"Welcome, students, to the Royal Academy." An old man stood on stage, greeting the hundreds gathered before him. His voice carried the weight of authority, the kind that shut people up whether they wanted to listen or not.
"This is the place where we groom the elites of the future—those who will shape the kingdom. You're all here because someone thought you were worth the effort. From this point on, it's on you to prove that wasn't a mistake."
"Every so-called genius from the major factions has been handpicked by their respective superiors. You'll spend the next few years clawing your way to the top... or getting trampled on the way there."
"I, the Headmaster of this academy, welcome you. But don't get too comfortable. Even though you've been accepted, you still have to earn your damn place. Fight for your rank. The best get the best. Or get left behind."
Nyx snorted, clearly amused. "So basically, power gets the front seat and everyone else rides in the trunk. Sounds fair enough." He grinned, already liking the atmosphere. All around him, the students wore the same expression—focused, cautious, and full of suppressed anxiety.
"And this year..." the Headmaster continued, dragging the tension like it was some grand reveal, "we're joined by a few who stand above even the rest of you: the crown prince, the daughter of the gold merchants, the Witch Queen's personal disciple, and other names you'll soon be too scared to speak."
Nyx's grin widened. "Oh, competition's tight, huh? Even better. Let's see who bleeds first." He turned to his group, expecting some reaction, maybe even a sarcastic jab. But all three of them just stood there, faces frozen, backs stiff, and eyes locked forward.
"At least blink or something, you damn mannequins," Nyx grumbled, waving his hand in front of Valon's face. "We're at a murder school for overachievers and I'm the only one enjoying it? Pathetic."
"You'll be redirected to your respective dorms by the teachers around you. Class selections begin tomorrow morning. Until then, get used to this place—it's going to be your home for the next few years."
With that, the headmaster left the stage, and the teachers quickly fanned out across the hall like herders guiding clueless sheep. Nyx and Valon were led off toward the boys' dorms while Samantha and Ruby veered off in the opposite direction.
---
"You guys have some serious identity issues, huh?" Nyx asked, tone light, hands tucked behind his head as he walked.
Valon hesitated before responding, guilt flickering across his face. "We didn't mean to hide it from you..."
"Chill, man. I'm not gonna cry over some mystery backstories," Nyx replied with a shrug. "If you wanna talk, talk. If not, I'll pretend I'm dumb as bricks. Just don't make me regret trusting you. That's all I ask."
He said it casually, like it was no big deal—but in his head, the weight behind the words hit harder than he let on. 'Last thing I need is the whole damn empire chasing me just because I found out someone's daddy runs a secret assassin clan or some shit,' he thought as he kept walking.
[They've got identity crises for breakfast. Don't you think this is gonna be fun?]
'Fun my ass. I came here for a reason, and I'm not dragging myself into their personal dramas till I'm done.'
[Oh, right. The oh-so-focused Nyx who said he wouldn't give a damn about this body's revenge. What happened, champ? Changed your mind already?]
'This ain't about that guy. I'm doing this for Rhea and Karl. So don't ever bring him up again.'
This time, his thoughts snapped sharper. Serious. Bitter. A thread of rage flickered beneath the surface.
---
"We're here," Valon said, stopping in front of their dorm room.
"Weren't we supposed to have two roommates? Where the hell are they?" Nyx asked, turning to the teacher who had escorted them.
"The remaining students—those who weren't directly selected—have to pass the entrance exams. They'll arrive after that." The teacher left without another word.
"Nice. Day one and we're already flexing privilege." Nyx flopped onto the bed, arms sprawled. Valon stood by the door, staring at him for a beat too long.
"I'm not a damn girl, stop looking at me like you're about to confess or something," Nyx grunted, sitting up.
Valon ignored the jab. "Nyx… can I ask something? Why are you really here? It's not about strength, right? I mean, your growth is already insane. You're practically a walking glitch. If it's personal, you don't have to—"
"Some bastard's pulling strings behind the curtain," Nyx cut in, his voice flat. "I came here to find out who and why."
Valon furrowed his brows. "Why the academy though? Wouldn't the capital have better answers?"
Nyx let out a dry chuckle. "My dad was labeled a traitor, remember? I get suspicious glances in this dump of a border city. You think the capital's gonna roll out a red carpet for me? They'd skin me alive and serve me on a gold plate."
Valon didn't push it, though he knew Nyx was still holding back. But he respected the boundary.
"Then… are you even a little curious about who we really are?"
"Nope." Nyx replied immediately. "Not even a fraction of a damn. Keep your secrets. Just don't stab me in the back and we're good."
---
"Samantha said to meet at the inn nearby. Wanna go now?" Valon asked, already slinging on his coat like he'd been waiting to leave since the moment they arrived.
Nyx raised an eyebrow, exhaling through his nose like he was about to start ranting. "Okay, but seriously... can someone tell me why the hell we always meet at a fucking inn? Every damn time. Are we allergic to normal places or what?"
His tone was full-on growl, the kind that said he'd rather face a hydra than walk into another stale-smelling, beer-stained tavern. Valon gave him a helpless shrug, the look on his face practically screaming Don't shoot the messenger, bro. I just work here.
"Not my call, man. I just follow orders when they come with sharp-eyed women attached."
Nyx rubbed his face, muttering under his breath, "Swear to god, if this one smells like mold and desperation again, I'm burning it down."
He got up anyway, tossing on his cloak and stretching his back like an old man with regrets. "Let's go before she sends a search party. Or worse, shows up here."
"Agreed," Valon nodded quickly. "Because let's be honest, I'm way more scared of Samantha showing up pissed than I am of you on a bad day."
Nyx didn't argue.
---
"Wassup," Nyx muttered as he dropped into a chair across from the girls, his posture the picture of careless exhaustion.
"You're late," Samantha said, her eyes narrowing.
Nyx shot her a flat look. "What, you want us to grow wings and teleport here?"
Samantha didn't respond to that. Instead, she leaned in slightly, resting her arms on the table. "What are your plans now?"
Nyx was halfway to grabbing a piece of bread but paused, blinking. "Plans? What plans? I figured I'd laze around the academy for a bit, maybe toss a few fireballs, take a few naps, hunt a few monsters—nothing too fancy. The system hasn't dropped any world-ending quests yet, so I'm coasting."
He glanced around the table, raising a brow. "Why? What about you lot? You all look like you're ready to wage war on the kingdom next second."
"The academy's different, Nyx," Samantha said, her voice gentler than usual. There was something in her eyes—concern, and maybe a little fear. "There are schemes everywhere. It's not just about fighting anymore. You have to be careful."
"I'm always careful," Nyx replied with a smirk, brushing her off like usual.
Valon snorted, arms folded across his chest. "Tell him. He won't understand until he's neck-deep in some noble's plan."
Samantha took a breath, eyes locking with Nyx's. "The Kingdom of Eleanor is in a fragile truce with Daktor. It hasn't escalated yet, but it will. Both kingdoms are already preparing their elites—training them, arming them, watching for weaknesses. This academy is one of their battlegrounds now."
She hesitated for a beat, then continued, her voice lowering. "There could be spies. People planted by factions. Sabotage, betrayal, maybe even bloodshed. This place is boiling, Nyx. Don't get burned."
He heard every word, felt the weight behind it. But he only smirked inwardly, that same reckless calm bubbling under his skin. He stayed expressionless, nodded once, and said nothing.
[She's got insight. Real strings behind her words. Watching you crawl through this political hellhole is gonna be a treat.]
'Yeah, yeah… I just have to keep moving. Fulfill the promise. Retire in peace. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere far. I didn't sign up for a war.'
His eyes flicked back to Samantha, her gaze still locked on him.
"So," he finally said, his voice calm but with an edge, "why are you telling me this? You do realize this kind of intel could get you in serious trouble if it got out. Dangerous stuff."
Samantha didn't even blink. "Because I trust you. That's it."
Valon and Ruby didn't say anything, but both met his gaze with quiet certainty, like a silent oath spoken through eyes alone.
"Trust, huh?" Nyx repeated, voice colder now. "Did you forget my entire family was branded as traitors? Every damn noble in the kingdom would love nothing more than to see me dead."
"Nyx…" Samantha's voice cracked slightly. "We don't know what happened. We don't know what Sir Rowan did or didn't do. But... he was our hero. My hero. That doesn't just vanish because of a brand."
"And besides," she continued, steadier now, "we've fought together. Lived through things together. I don't need a bloodline report to know I trust you. I just don't want to lose you."
There it was—that line. Nyx flinched. Just slightly. But it was there. 'I just don't want to lose you.' The words echoed, and in the back of his mind, a face surfaced. A memory clawed to life. Something bitter, something haunting.
He stood up. "I'm gonna leave," he said suddenly, his tone flat. No fire. No sass. Just silence in his wake.
Samantha instinctively moved to go after him, but Ruby caught her wrist. "Let him," she said quietly. "He just... needs some time."
---
After leaving the inn, Nyx didn't stop walking. He didn't care where his feet took him—he just needed to move, to get away before his mind caved in on itself. Before the walls of that quiet inn pressed too close around him and forced something out he wasn't ready to deal with.
By the time he finally stopped, the sun was dipping low, setting the sky on fire with hues of crimson and gold. The light kissed the world like a final farewell, but Nyx barely noticed. He stood still, wind brushing past him, alone in a quiet part of the academy's sprawling grounds—some forgotten cliffside where no one wandered this time of day.
"I tried, y'know..." His voice came out low, barely above a whisper. It wasn't meant for anyone else to hear. "I tried my damn best..."
The words hung in the air, hollow and aching. Like he was trying to convince someone. Or maybe just himself.
"It's not like I ran away from there..."
He looked down at his hands—trembling, stained with phantom blood. The sunset's light played cruel tricks, painting them red like they'd been dipped in something he couldn't wash off. Something from a past he refused to name.