The first morning at Eiryu Academy felt heavier than the afternoon had.
Seo Ramin adjusted his uniform jacket nervously as he approached Class 2-3. The hallway was quiet—almost unnaturally so. Footsteps echoed softly, but no one seemed to pass by. The air smelled faintly of old wood, like the scent of a library untouched for decades.
He glanced at the classroom door. Students were already seated inside. A soft murmur of voices floated out, but it wasn't like normal chatter. It was synchronized, almost rehearsed.
Ramin hesitated.
A quiet voice in his head—his Eiryu, instinctively alert—warned him. Something is wrong here.
Taking a deep breath, he slid open the door.
The classroom looked ordinary enough. Rows of desks. A teacher's podium. Windows letting in early morning sunlight.
Except it wasn't ordinary.
Every desk cast a shadow. Every chair cast a shadow. Even the books on top of the desks stretched long shadows across the polished floor.
But the students themselves… did not.
Ramin's pulse quickened.
He scanned the room carefully. There were about twenty students in total, all seated quietly. They wrote notes, tapped pens, and whispered soft greetings to one another. Every movement was precise, almost too coordinated. And yet… not a single shadow moved with them.
He rubbed his eyes, certain he was imagining it.
No. Shadows did not lie.
The homeroom teacher stepped forward, her heels clicking softly against the floor. She was elegant, mid-thirties, with a calm presence that commanded attention.
"Good morning, Class 2-3," she said. Her voice was measured, warm in tone, but somehow hollow. "Today, we welcome a new student."
All eyes—shadowless eyes—turned to Ramin simultaneously. A synchronized gaze that made the hairs on his neck rise.
He stepped forward. "Seo Ramin," he said, bowing slightly.
"Welcome, Ramin," the teacher replied. "Please take the seat by the window."
Ramin walked slowly past the rows. Every step felt amplified in his mind. He noticed the subtle hum of Eiryu energy from some of the students, but none of it matched what he'd expected. Most of it was faint, unrefined, almost dormant.
Until he reached the back of the classroom.
There, seated alone in the corner, was the boy from yesterday—Mo Tianxun.
He was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, one leg over the other. His eyes were sharp, watching Ramin, but his face betrayed nothing. His posture radiated confidence, the kind that made others uncomfortable without them knowing why.
Their eyes met. Ramin felt a strange pull, a resonance from his own Eiryu stirring.
Tianxun knows something.
He forced himself to sit by the window as instructed. The sunlight fell across his desk, casting a proper shadow this time, anchored firmly to him. A small comfort, but fleeting.
The teacher began the lesson.
"Today, we will review basic Eiryu flow control," she said, voice calm, controlled. She moved her hands slightly in front of her, a faint golden shimmer visible for a moment before disappearing. "Remember: control is not just strength. It is understanding. It is resonance. And above all, it is awareness."
Ramin's fingers itched. His own Eiryu responded instinctively. A gentle warmth radiated from his palms, pulsing in rhythm with the faint hum that filled the room.
Some of the students mirrored the teacher's hand motions, practicing in perfect unison. Their movements were sharp, precise—but again, no shadows moved with them.
Ramin frowned.
How can they control Eiryu if they don't cast shadows?
It was impossible. Shadows were always connected to energy, a reflection of life. And yet here, this anomaly existed.
He turned slightly to glance at Tianxun.
The boy tilted his head. No smile. No expression. Just quiet observation.
Ramin felt a flicker of doubt. Is he watching me—or controlling something else?
By mid-morning, students were paired off for basic Eiryu exercises. Ramin's partner, a quiet girl with glasses, offered a polite nod.
"Seo Ramin?" she said softly. "Shall we begin?"
Ramin nodded. The exercise was simple: focus Eiryu into a sphere of energy in the palm. Most students had trouble maintaining it for more than a few seconds, but Ramin's sphere glowed steadily, responding naturally.
"Good," the teacher said, moving closer. Her eyes lingered on Ramin for just a moment longer than usual. "You have talent, Ramin. That will be necessary in this class."
Ramin's brow furrowed. Necessary for what?
Before he could think further, a low hum resonated through the floorboards. The energy in the room subtly shifted.
Ramin felt it immediately—a ripple in the ambient Eiryu, faint but unmistakable.
He wasn't imagining it.
His partner froze mid-motion. Her sphere flickered, then dissipated. She blinked rapidly, looking around as if the room itself had changed.
The teacher raised a hand, and the room returned to normal.
But Ramin knew. Something had moved under the floorboards. Something unseen.
Lunchtime arrived. Ramin followed Seojin out to the courtyard.
"Hey," Seojin said cautiously, "how was your first full class?"
Ramin hesitated. "Weird," he admitted. "Some of the students… they didn't have shadows."
Seojin's fork paused mid-air. His eyes widened slightly, but his expression immediately returned to calm.
"Ah. I see."
"You knew," Ramin said flatly.
Seojin looked away. "I… didn't want to scare you on your first day. Class 2-3… it's different. But you'll find out soon enough."
Ramin studied him. "Different how?"
Seojin's gaze darted to the hallway, then back to Ramin. "Don't stay after sunset. Just… trust me."
Ramin frowned. "Why?"
Seojin shook his head. "Some things you don't understand yet. You'll see."
Ramin wanted to push, but a strange instinct made him stop. Something about Seojin's eyes… genuine fear, restrained.
He nodded. "Fine."
Seojin relaxed slightly and smiled. "Good. That's… good enough for today."
The rest of the afternoon passed without incident, though Ramin couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every shadowless student he passed seemed to glance at him in perfect unison. It was subtle, almost imperceptible—but he felt it.
After school, as students filtered out, Ramin stayed behind, curiosity overcoming caution.
The classroom was empty, except for one person: Mo Tianxun.
"You didn't leave?" Tianxun's voice was calm, measured. "Interesting."
"I wanted to understand," Ramin admitted. "Why don't the students cast shadows?"
Tianxun tilted his head. "Because they aren't… quite themselves."
Ramin frowned. "What do you mean?"
Tianxun stepped closer. "The shadows are connected to Eiryu, yes? But when the energy is restrained, or… influenced… shadows will falter. They vanish. Control the energy—or the energy controls you."
Ramin's hand twitched slightly. His Eiryu pulsed faster, reacting to Tianxun's proximity.
"Your Eiryu is strong," Tianxun continued, voice quiet. "Even now, it's resonating. That's why I'm interested in you."
"Interested how?"
Tianxun smiled faintly. "We'll see. For now… just be careful."
He walked away, back to the corner where he always sat. His figure was calm, detached, yet the energy he carried seemed to linger long after he left.
Ramin exhaled shakily.
Something about this class—about this school—was dangerous.
Not physically. Not yet.
But he could feel it.
The absence of shadows wasn't just strange. It was a warning.
And he had no idea how deep the warning went.
As Ramin left the building, he noticed his own shadow stretching long across the courtyard.
It moved normally, solid and anchored—but he felt it lag for a fraction of a second.
A chill ran down his spine.
The first day at Eiryu Academy was over.
And Class 2-3 had already started changing him.