The train rattled steadily along the southern line, cutting through the gray sprawl of Seoul's outskirts.
Morning light streamed through the window, painting the empty seat beside Jiwoo in gold. He watched the city fade into quieter towns and low hills, the rhythm of the tracks matching the steady beat in his chest.
It had been a week since his acceptance letter arrived.
Now, his destination drew closer — Eclipse Academy, the once-proud heart of Korea's Hero training.
When the automated voice announced the stop, Jiwoo stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder. The station was small and nearly empty, the kind of place that felt suspended between past and present. From there, it was a fifteen-minute walk to the campus.
The road climbed gently uphill. Beyond a row of old cherry trees, the school appeared — grand, imposing, and quiet.
Massive iron gates marked the entrance, their metalwork shaped into twin crescent moons. Faded banners hung from stone pillars, each bearing the Academy's motto:
"Where Light Meets Resolve."
Even worn by time, Eclipse still held its dignity. Its buildings were built of pale stone and dark glass, the style old-fashioned but stately — like something meant to inspire awe long after its prime had passed.
The campus grounds stretched wide: open courtyards, tall lecture halls, a library with arched windows, and a training field large enough to host entire tournaments.
It was beautiful — not perfect, not shining — but strong in its silence.
Jiwoo paused at the gate, taking it all in. A few students passed by, chatting about dorm assignments and rankings. Most looked new like him, eyes bright with ambition or nerves.
A staff member stood near the main walkway, clipboard in hand.
"What's your name freshman?"
"Han Jiwoo"
The man handed him a small envelope. "Dormitory placement: Sector B, Room 214. Orientation starts at ten in the auditorium. Don't be late."
"Understood," Jiwoo replied.
"Also you're Class B"
The dormitory sat at the edge of the campus, overlooking a grove of trees. Inside, the building was neat but old — polished floors, tall windows, wooden desks that still carried faint marks of past students. His assigned room was empty for now. He placed his bag down and opened the window. The morning breeze carried the scent of dew and old stone.
From there, he could see nearly the entire academy: the training fields below, the clock tower at the center, and the long shadows cast by the east wing. Despite its faded reputation, Eclipse still felt alive.
At ten, the auditorium buzzed with the sound of a hundred new students.
They wore the academy's standard uniform — gray with silver trim — simple but formal. Jiwoo took a seat near the middle row, quietly observing.
When the murmuring settled, a man in his fifties stepped onto the stage. His hair was streaked with silver, his voice calm and firm.
"Welcome to Eclipse Academy," he said. "I am Vice Headmaster Lee Hyun, speaking on behalf of Headmaster Elias Kain."
A ripple of recognition moved through the crowd at the name.
Even Jiwoo had heard it before — Elias Kain, a veteran combatant from the Monarch War era. Though he hadn't been chosen as one of the Nine Heroes, his strength and leadership earned him deep respect among them.
After the war, he turned away from battle and began teaching, eventually becoming the headmaster of Eclipse Academy. Many called him "the man who built heroes," a title he carried with quiet pride.
Now, that same name carried the weight of legacy more than fame.
Lee Hyun continued, "Eclipse has seen better days, but our purpose remains the same — to shape those with power into protectors. Not for fame, not for status, but for duty."
He let the words hang before adding, "Classes begin tomorrow. Today is for orientation and settling in. You'll meet your instructors shortly."
The students rose as the speech ended. Jiwoo stayed still a moment longer, letting the words sink in before leaving with the crowd.
Outside, the campus gleamed under the noon sun. The atmosphere felt lighter now — laughter, chatter, the shuffle of uniforms against stone.
Outside, sunlight spilled over the courtyard as students poured out of the auditorium in noisy clusters. Laughter and chatter filled the air — first-years already forming groups, upperclassmen watching from the balconies above like hawks measuring prey.
Jiwoo lingered at the edge of the flow, his pace unhurried. He was scanning the open yard when a voice cut through the noise.
"Jiwoo!"
He looked up to see his sister weaving through the crowd — Han Jiwon, nineteen, third year, and the family's golden child.She looked exactly the same as always: sharp uniform, perfect composure, the kind of confidence that made people step aside without realizing it.
She reached him with a breathless grin. "You could've told me you were enrolling here."
"I didn't know myself," Jiwoo said. "Mom and Dad handled everything."
"Figures." She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth curved.
"Still, I'm glad. Makes this place a little less boring."
He smirked faintly. "Or a lot more troublesome."
"Depends on how long it takes you to catch up."
They walked side by side through the courtyard, sunlight reflecting off the old stone paths. For a moment, it almost felt normal — brother and sister, just talking.
Then her voice lowered. "How'd your awakening go?"
He hesitated. His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag. "E-rank, Dual Class."
Jiwon stopped mid-step. "E?" The single syllable hung heavy between them.
Her expression flickered — disbelief, then frustration, then something quieter. "That doesn't make sense. You've trained longer than most first-years here. You—" She caught herself, exhaled slowly. "You don't deserve that rank."
"And... What's that Dual Class?"
""They said it's Unknown also deserve's got nothing to do with it." Jiwoo's voice was calm, almost detached. "The crystal gave its answer. That's all."
For a heartbeat, neither spoke. Around them, laughter echoed from the far side of the yard. The world kept moving.
Finally, Jiwon said, "Then prove it wrong." Her tone was steady, but her eyes had that familiar glint — the same one she used to get before a match. "If Eclipse still means something, make it see what the Association couldn't."
He looked at her, the sunlight catching faint gold in his eyes. "That's the plan."
She smiled — small, sharp, proud. "Good. Because I don't intend to go easy on my little brother"
He almost laughed. "Didn't know it was a competition."
"With you? It always was even when we're in kendo back in the days." She tapped his shoulder lightly — a hit that carried both affection and challenge — before turning away. "Don't fall behind, Jiwoo."
She walked off toward the upper wing, sunlight tracing the edges of her uniform as the crowd swallowed her up.
Jiwoo stood there for a moment, alone amid the noise, the scent of dust and mana in the air.
E-rank or not… this is where it starts.
His hand brushed against his chest, where that faint warmth still pulsed beneath the skin — quiet, waiting.
He looked out over the training fields and the clock tower beyond, its hands frozen at eleven. "Let's see how long it takes to change that."
***
After lunch, the new students were guided through a short campus tour. Jiwoo took note of everything — the practice fields reinforced with mana stone, the older classrooms still running on traditional barriers, and the library that doubled as a mana archive.
It wasn't cutting-edge like the newer academies, but it felt authentic. Solid.
When they reached the combat yard, a group of second-years were already training. Their techniques were fast, coordinated, and precise — reminders of how far Jiwoo still had to go.
He watched quietly, hands in his pockets.
As one student's blade cut through the air, Jiwoo felt a faint stirring in his chest — that same pulse from the day of his awakening. It throbbed once, then faded, leaving behind only a faint warmth.
He drew a slow breath and let it pass.
By evening, he returned to his dorm. Another suitcase now rested beside the other bed. A moment later, the door opened, and a boy with messy dark hair poked his head in.
"Oh, hey! You must be my roommate, I'm Seo Minjae." the boy said, grinning. "Nice to meet you. Hope you're not one of those quiet types who never talk."
"Han Jiwoo," Jiwoo replied.
"Oh, the Association guy? I heard about that explosion. It's tough being an E Rank man"
Jiwoo gave a small shrug. "There's nothing I can do about it anyways."
"Fair enough," Minjae laughed.
Jiwoo glanced around. The wooden beams, the polished desks, the faint glow of lamps lighting the hall outside.
"Still, I think you need to watch out man, I heard seniors here are lunatics who make fun awakeners who's rank is lower than them"
"Yeah"
As night settled over the academy, Jiwoo stood by the window once more. The campus lights shimmered faintly against the dark, and in the distance, the skyline of Seoul blinked like stars behind clouds.
He thought of what his parents said — It's where you'll grow best.
Maybe they were right. Maybe they were preparing him for something he couldn't see yet.
Either way, Eclipse was now his world.
And for the first time in a long while, he felt ready to begin.