The morning bell rang. A new student stood at the gate—silent, dressed in black, and wearing silk gloves that didn't match the Twilight Academy's uniform.
"Name?" asked Instructor Lan at the registration desk.
The boy replied without emotion, "Bai Zhen."
In the headmaster's chambers, the senior instructors gathered with furrowed brows.
"Bai Zhen of the Bai Royal House… Why send him here?" one asked.
"His family rules the Eastern Archipelago," another whispered. "A royal bloodline."
"More like a cursed one," Elder Mu muttered. "His clan uses puppet arts… some say they turn their own children into living dolls."
Back in Class D, Han Li raised an eyebrow as Bai Zhen entered.
"You're late," Han Li said.
"I wasn't sent to be punctual," Bai Zhen replied in a flat tone.
The students tensed, but Han Li just grinned. "Good. You'll get along well here."
Bai Zhen took a seat at the very back, unmoving. Even his blinking felt unnatural.
Shen Mu whispered, "Is he breathing?"
"He's... too still," Mei Lian murmured. "Like something bound his soul in threads."
During sword practice, when a flying dummy came at him, Bai Zhen raised his hand—and the dummy stopped midair, twitching. Invisible threads unraveled from his fingers, pulling the dummy apart with surgical precision.
Even Han Li narrowed his eyes.
Later that evening, Han Li stared at the sealed vault behind his quarters.
Inside lay a scroll that only someone like Bai Zhen would sense.
"Another piece on the board," Han Li whispered.
Somewhere deep in the eastern sea, a masked figure stared at the moonlit tide.
"So... the Puppet Prince has joined the class."
The sea hissed. The great game was beginning.