The morning of Kaito's departure dawned beneath a pale sky — clear, quiet, and deceptively calm.
The Ei Branch estate was already awake, servants bustling about, carriages being loaded, voices rising and fading like the rhythm of machinery. A faint scent of wet soil and blooming azaleas hung in the air.
Kaito stood before the gate, dressed in the Fei Clan's ceremonial uniform — a black coat lined with crimson thread markings that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. His gaze was steady, emotionless. Inside, calculations churned like a storm behind glass.
Lei Fei approached with slow, heavy steps, a hand resting on Kaito's shoulder.
"Min Academy will test everything — body, thread, and heart," he said, his tone both proud and grave. "Remember who you represent."
Geo Fei smiled softly beside him, though her eyes betrayed worry.
"And remember," she added gently, "you don't have to shoulder the world alone, Kaito."
"I understand," he replied, voice flat as steel.
From a short distance, Mei Fei waved, her bright energy a stark contrast to the solemn scene.
"Don't forget to send letters, mister serious! I'll be watching your progress!"
"…I'll try," Kaito said, almost mechanically.
"Try harder!" she pouted playfully, before bursting into laughter.
The sound faded as the carriage rolled away from the gate. Inside, Kaito stared through the window — the scenery sliding past like a dream dissolving into memory.
New environment. New variables. New opportunities.
He closed his eyes, feeling the faint pulse of his Karma Thread within his chest — black with a red edge, dormant yet restless.
---
Hours passed.
The gentle hum of the engine was interrupted only by the rhythmic creak of the wheels against the stone road.
When Kaito finally looked up again, the horizon had changed.
Rising before him was Min Academy, the legendary citadel of knowledge and combat — an empire suspended upon an enormous floating platform, woven entirely from condensed threads of energy. Towers of white steel and silver crystal spiraled toward the heavens, connected by bridges of light that shimmered with flowing runes.
The air thrummed with invisible power. Threads moved freely in the atmosphere — woven, unbound, alive.
Impressive, Kaito thought. But still primitive compared to the Seventh Era constructs I've seen… the energy efficiency alone is barely fifty percent.
The carriage passed through an enormous gate etched with the academy's crest: a spiral thread looping through a blazing star. The emblem pulsed as if alive, reacting faintly to Kaito's hidden presence.
---
Inside the registration hall, rows of students stood in line — nobles, clan heirs, common-born prodigies. Voices murmured, echoing off the high crystal walls.
A clerk, dressed in a white and gold uniform, looked up as Kaito approached.
"Name?"
"Kaito," he replied, his tone calm and unshaken.
The clerk tapped at a floating ledger of light. His eyes widened. "Ei Branch's adopted son? Awakening Thread Resonance Index at age 10… remarkable."
He handed Kaito a silver badge engraved with the academy's insignia.
"Welcome to Min Academy, student Kaito. May your thread weave greatness."
Kaito accepted the badge silently. Greatness? No. I only weave balance… and vengeance.
---
Outside, the campus unfolded like a city unto itself — marble gardens, training grounds that shimmered with barrier fields, and thread forges humming with radiant light.
Students gathered in circles, sparring with thread weapons or manipulating the air with complex weaves. Kaito walked among them, quiet as a shadow.
Whispers followed him.
"Isn't that the Ei Branch's new heir?""
"He doesn't look human… look at those eyes."
Kaito ignored them. Noise, he thought. The weak need to speak to confirm their existence.
He reached the first-year dormitory — an elegant building of dark stone, each door etched with the student's thread pattern. His was 7777. He stared at the number for a long moment, then opened the door.
Inside: simplicity. A bed, desk, window, and a small bookshelf.
Perfect.
He unpacked his few belongings methodically — every motion deliberate, mechanical.
Then he paused.
Outside, the air rippled. Someone strong had entered the dorm grounds.
---
The courtyard erupted in murmurs. A boy stood in the center — tall, with silver-white hair that shimmered like moonlight, and eyes like molten gold. Energy radiated from him in visible waves, threads of pure azure circling his form like serpents.
"Name's Rin Aetherion," the boy said with casual arrogance. "Top scorer of the entrance evaluations. If you think you're strong, prove it."
Silence. Then the crowd parted as his gaze fell on Kaito.
"You," Rin said, smirking. "You're the Ei Branch prodigy? You look… underwhelming."
Kaito's eyes met his, sharp and unreadable.
"Presence doesn't win battles."
The two boys locked gazes — their auras brushing like blades. For an instant, threads of blue and red flickered in the air between them, twisting like opposing fates before both dissipated.
Rin chuckled softly. "Interesting. I'll remember you, Kaito of the Ei Branch."
He turned away, the faintest smirk still on his lips — not mockery, but recognition.
"He's the Academy's chosen stare,one that would ascend to a rank 6 immortal in the future."Kaito thought.
---
That evening, Kaito explored the library — an enormous hall of glass and ink, filled with archives that reached the ceiling. He touched a scroll of ancient weaving techniques and murmured softly,
"These are relics of the Fourth Cycle… incomplete."
A mechanical librarian approached. "Student Kaito, are you interested in thread history?"
Kaito nodded absently. "I'm interested in origins. All threads trace back to something greater."
The librarian paused, scanning him with a faint blue light. "You speak as if you've seen it."
Kaito smiled faintly — a rare, cold smile.
"Maybe I have."
---
That night, he sat by his dorm window. The moonlight poured over him like silver water.
In the distance, the academy's great observatory pulsed with faint blue light, mapping the constellations of fate.
Kaito could see them — luck, and karma itself.
Thousands of threads tangled in patterns only he could understand.
Every thread here leads somewhere, he thought. And one of them… leads back to the gods who cursed me.
He reached into the air. A faint, red-black thread appeared, vibrating softly like a living heartbeat. It quivered — sensing something beyond.
A whisper crossed his mind.
Balance will demand its due, Dustborn.
Kaito closed his fist, snuffing the thread out. "Then I'll decide when the scales tip."
He turned from the window, eyes burning faintly in the darkness.
The academy slept.
But Kaito was already awake — calculating, planning, weaving the first strands of his next move.
The calm before the storm had begun.
---