The morning sun painted Godwick's Academy in hues of gold and crimson, its ancient spires standing tall against the cloudless sky. Students in regal uniforms flooded the grand walkways, their laughter and idle conversations filling the air. Yet, as Dark stepped through the gates, something shifted.
The usual noise dulled.
Whispers slithered between hushed voices, exchanged like rumors of a ghost sighting.
That's Dark, right?
Did he always carry himself like that?
No way. Something's wrong.
Dark had always been a shadow, an afterthought in the academy halls—a boy who walked with his head down, who never met anyone's gaze for more than a second. A nobody. But today, something was different. His steps were measured, his shoulders squared. He no longer shrank under the weight of the nobles' sneers. His expression was unreadable, his gaze steady.
And that made people uneasy.
Dark didn't notice. Or rather, he didn't care.
His mind was focused on something else. His glasses, now missing, had left him feeling... unshackled. As if a fog had lifted from his vision, revealing a world he had never truly seen before. He didn't just feel different. He felt awake.
Inside the Classroom...
The grand lecture hall of Godwick's Academy was a place of prestige, its towering stained-glass windows casting colored light upon rows of students clad in the uniforms of nobility. The air carried the scent of ink, parchment, and burning candle wax.
Professor Aldrin, a man of strict precision, stood before the class, his violet robes flowing as he addressed his students with an air of practiced authority.
Professor Aldrin: Today, we shall refine our understanding of elemental convergence. Magic is not simply about force—it is about control. And so, I would like a volunteer.
Dark, seated in the back corner as usual, felt the shift in the room.
He knew what was coming.
Professor Aldrin: Dark.
A ripple of amusement passed through the students. Low chuckles. Mocking glances.
Student 1: (whispering) Here we go again.
Student 2: (snickering) This is going to be painful to watch.
For as long as anyone could remember, Dark had been the academy's greatest failure. His inability to properly cast even basic spells had turned him into a laughingstock.
But today was different.
Dark stood up without hesitation.
No tremble in his hands. No nervous glance to the floor.
Just silence.
As he walked to the front, the class went quiet. Something about his movements—the way he carried himself—made even the most arrogant nobles pause.
He extended his hand.
The moment the incantation left his lips, a surge of energy rippled through the air. A perfect sphere of light coalesced in his palm, its form steady, unwavering.
Not flickering.
Not unstable.
Perfect.
The class froze.
The same spell that had failed him time and time again now formed with absolute precision.
Student 3: (muttering) No way...
Professor Aldrin observed in silence, his sharp eyes betraying the faintest flicker of intrigue.
Professor Aldrin: Well done.
That was all he said before gesturing for Dark to return to his seat.
No mocking laughter. No cruel remarks.
Only stunned silence.
Dark returned to his seat as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't just shattered every expectation placed upon him.
And that, more than anything, unsettled them.
The Courtyard...
The academy's courtyard was a place of splendor. White marble fountains, enchanted gardens blooming with ever-changing flowers, cobblestone paths winding between towering oak trees. A place for the elite to bask in their superiority.
Dark sat on a bench beneath the sprawling branches of a cherry blossom tree, the wind carrying petals through the air like drifting snow.
He exhaled slowly, watching the world pass by.
Something isn't right.
His fingers twitched. His senses felt sharper, more aware than ever before. Every whisper, every glance thrown his way—he could feel them.
He wasn't used to this level of clarity.
The presence of others had always pressed down on him like an unbearable weight, but now? Now it felt distant. Insignificant.
Then—footsteps.
A group of noble students approached, their expensive boots clicking against the stone pavement. Their leader, a tall boy with silver hair and a smirk that dripped arrogance, crossed his arms.
Noble Student: You're acting different, aren't you?
Dark met his gaze. Calm. Unblinking.
Dark: Perhaps.
That single word sent a ripple through the group. The usual reaction—the flinch, the stutter, the submissive retreat—was absent.
This wasn't the same Dark they were used to.
The noble's smirk faltered, but he recovered quickly.
Noble Student: Watch yourself, Dark. Just because you've had a good day doesn't mean you're better than us.
Dark tilted his head slightly, considering the words.
Then, he smiled.
Not the smile of a beaten-down weakling.
No.
This smile was something else entirely.
Dark: I have no such illusions.
The noble took a step back, a flicker of unease crossing his face. Without another word, he turned and walked away, his group following close behind.
Dark watched them go, expression unreadable.
For the first time in his life, people were afraid of him.
And he didn't mind.
That Night...
Dark sat in his dimly lit dormitory, the flickering candle casting elongated shadows against the stone walls. His fingers traced the broken frame of his glasses, the shards of shattered lenses resting on his desk.
Dark: (thinking) What did Ace mean?
His conversation with Ace earlier had lingered in his mind. "You just don't remember who you really are yet."
Dark: (softly) Restraint...
Had he been restrained this whole time? Weakened? Suppressed?
If so—by what?
He clenched his fist, the air around him growing heavy.
Then—a whisper.
Soft.
Ethereal.
Not from the room.
Not from any physical source.
But from inside.
???: You're beginning to understand.
Dark's breath hitched.
His grip on the glasses tightened.
Dark: (thinking) That voice again...
It wasn't his.
But it wasn't foreign either.
Like a forgotten memory clawing its way back into existence.
Dark: (whispering) Who... am I?
The whisper did not answer.
But deep inside, Dark knew.
Something was awakening.
Dark felt it coiling deep within him, a slow, deliberate unraveling, like chains loosening after centuries of restraint. His chest felt heavy—not in a painful way, but in a way that made him hyper-aware of his own existence. Every breath, every heartbeat, every twitch of his fingers. It was as if he had been walking through life submerged in water, everything dulled, sluggish, restrained. But now, the water had receded, and he could finally see clearly.
His fingers twitched against the shards of his broken glasses. They felt different now, insignificant. The thought of putting them back on, of willingly returning to the haze he had lived in for as long as he could remember, felt wrong. Almost insulting.
His reflection in the window caught his attention. The candlelight flickered against the glass, casting shadows across his face. He had always looked at himself and seen something fragile, something breakable. But now, the boy staring back at him looked... different.
His gaze wasn't weak.
His expression wasn't uncertain.
There was something lurking in his own eyes, something ancient, something patient.
Something waiting.
He leaned forward slightly, studying his own face. The faintest smirk curled at the corner of his lips. He hadn't meant to smile, but there it was—subtle, unreadable. It wasn't forced. It wasn't nervous. It was... natural.
A realization settled over him, sinking into his bones.
This was who he was supposed to be.
The thought sent a shiver through him.
A knock at the door shattered the moment.
Dark turned his head, his muscles tensing before he caught himself. He wasn't used to being on edge. He wasn't used to being aware. Before, he would've jumped, hesitated, maybe stammered out a response.
But now, his body simply reacted, his mind calculating before he even registered the movement.
He stood, walking toward the door with slow, deliberate steps. His hand reached the handle, but he didn't open it right away.
He could feel something.
A presence on the other side.
It wasn't hostile.
But it wasn't harmless either.
He opened the door.
Ace stood there, hands in his pockets, golden eyes flickering in the dim candlelight.
Dark didn't react, didn't speak. He simply stared, waiting.
Ace raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly.
Ace: Not even a nervous hello? Damn, someone's growing up fast.
Dark tilted his head slightly. The teasing tone didn't phase him the way it used to.
Dark: You knew I wasn't who I thought I was.
Ace's smirk widened, but his gaze sharpened, studying him.
Ace: Took you long enough to figure it out.
Dark didn't move.
Dark: You're not surprised.
Ace shrugged, leaning casually against the doorframe.
Ace: I've been watching you for years. I knew there was something buried under all that fear and self-pity. I just didn't think you'd wake up this soon.
Dark's fingers twitched at his side.
Dark: Wake up.
Ace's smirk faded slightly, replaced by something more thoughtful.
Ace: You've been restrained your whole life. Not just by fear, not just by the academy, but by something deeper. Something deliberate.
Dark's jaw clenched.
Dark: The glasses.
Ace nodded.
Ace: Those weren't just for vision correction. They were a seal.
The weight of the words settled into Dark's chest like a stone sinking into deep water. He had suspected it, but hearing it confirmed made his stomach twist.
Dark: Who did it?
Ace's gaze flickered with something unreadable.
Ace: Someone who wanted you weak.
Dark exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm.
Dark: Why?
Ace studied him for a moment, as if deciding how much to say.
Ace: Because you're dangerous.
Dark's fingers curled into his palm.
Dark: To who?
Ace's smirk returned, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Ace: Everyone.
Dark didn't flinch. Didn't react the way he might have before.
Instead, he simply nodded.
Dark: Good.
Ace let out a short chuckle, shaking his head.
Ace: I had a feeling you'd say that.
Dark turned slightly, glancing back at the broken glasses on his desk.
Dark: What happens now?
Ace pushed off the doorframe, straightening up.
Ace: Now? You do what you were always meant to do. You stop letting yourself be controlled. You stop playing their game.
Dark turned back to him, eyes cold.
Dark: And if I refuse?
Ace's smirk was sharp as a blade.
Ace: Then you'll never get your answers.
Dark held his gaze for a long moment. Then, he stepped aside.
Dark: Come in.
Ace stepped inside without hesitation, shutting the door behind him.
The room fell into silence. The only sound was the faint flicker of the candle on Dark's desk, casting unsteady shadows along the stone walls. The air had shifted—thicker now, heavier.
Dark didn't speak right away. He just watched Ace, his crimson eyes sharp, calculating. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for. An explanation? A warning?
Ace, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. He strolled across the room, brushing his fingers against the bookshelf, pausing only to glance at the shattered glasses on Dark's desk. His smirk deepened.
Ace: (mocking) Guess you won't be needing these anymore.
Dark didn't react. Not outwardly. But something in his mind stirred. A whisper, distant and unreadable.
Dark: (low) Tell me what you know.
Ace let out a short chuckle, rolling his shoulders as if stretching before a game.
Ace: (casual) Straight to it, huh? Alright. You're not who you think you are.
Dark: (flatly) I figured that much.
Ace: Yeah, but knowing isn't the same as understanding. And from the way you're standing right now, all rigid and ready to jump at me? (grinning) You don't understand a damn thing yet.
Dark's jaw tightened, but he didn't deny it.
Something inside him was breaking apart, and he didn't even know what it was.
Ace leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
Ace: (softly) Ever wonder why you've always felt so... weak? Like you were walking through life half-asleep?
Dark inhaled slowly, his mind flashing back.
The constant exhaustion. The sluggishness. The way his body never seemed to move the way it should.
Like something had been holding him back.
Dark: (quietly) ...The glasses?
Ace smirked, nodding.
Ace: Bingo. Those weren't just glasses. They were a limiter. A cage. And you've been living inside it for your entire life.
Dark felt a pulse in his skull—an almost painful sensation, like a memory trying to force its way to the surface.
Dark: Who put them on me?
Ace: (shrugging) Your family.
Dark went still.
Ace: The oh-so-powerful Amatori bloodline. They dumped you here, sealed your power, and left you to rot. (tilting his head) That's gotta sting, huh?
Dark's fingers curled into fists.
It didn't make sense. It made too much sense.
Dark: (low) Why?
Ace exhaled through his nose, pacing slightly.
Ace: Because they were scared of you.
Dark felt something crack inside him.
Ace: They didn't just abandon you, Dark. They erased you.
The words hit hard.
For years, he had thought he was just an orphan, a mistake, a weakling tossed into the academy to be forgotten. But now?
Now, he wasn't just a mistake.
He was a threat.
And that changed everything.
Dark: (softly) They feared me...?
Ace grinned.
Ace: And they were right to.
Dark exhaled slowly, the weight of the revelation settling deep in his bones. He wasn't just some nobody thrown away by his family—he was intentionally buried.
But something didn't add up.
Dark: (thinking) If they wanted me gone, why let me live at all?
Before he could ask, the air shifted.
A presence.
Not from Ace.
Not from inside the room.
But inside him.
Dark inhaled sharply, his vision blurring.
A sudden, sharp pain stabbed through his skull. He clutched his temple, his breath coming fast.
Ace didn't move. Didn't react. He just watched.
Ace: (calmly) Finally waking up, huh?
Dark's knees nearly buckled as a memory—no, a fragment—flashed through his mind.
A battlefield.
A sword drenched in blood.
A name spoken in fear.
Not Dark.
Something else.
Someone else.
And then—
A whisper.
Not his.
Not Ace's.
Something deeper.
???: (amused) Do you remember now?
Dark's breath hitched.
That voice—
He knew it.
Somewhere, in the deepest part of him—
It was his own.
But not this him.
A different one.
Ace took a step forward, his voice low, almost excited.
Ace: Yeah. There it is. Now we're getting somewhere.
Dark's hands trembled.
His mind felt split in two.
Who was he?
Who had he been?
And why—why did it feel like the answer was something he shouldn't remember?
Dark: (hoarse whisper) What... is happening to me?
Ace's smirk widened.
Ace: Oh, buddy...
Ace: (grinning) You're about to find out.
End Of Arc 5 Chapter 2.