The night was unnaturally quiet at Rivan Academy.
The new-built walls stood strong, glowing faintly in the moonlight. Villagers-turned-students slept peacefully, their dreams filled with hope.
But shadows do not sleep.
Inside the training yard, Parashu meditated under the ancient tree. His aura was steady, sharp—like a blade waiting to strike. From a distance, unseen, a pair of eyes observed him.
Rivan's eyes.
He clenched his fists. "Why… do I still feel human when I see him fight? I'm not supposed to feel anything."
Suddenly—
a cold wind swept through the grounds. The air shimmered. Reality itself twisted.
Darpanesh had arrived.
The Illusionist.
His voice echoed like a whisper in every ear:
"Children of the Academy… your strength is nothing but a dream."
Students woke in panic, running through corridors—only to find fire where there was none, screams where there was silence. Illusions painted the Academy in chaos.
Parashu leapt to his feet. His eyes sharpened.
"This… is not real."
Yakshini rushed beside him, gripping her staff.
"But the fear is real. He wants us to break from the inside."
And then—
A figure appeared at the main gate.
Kamravinash.
The rain started pouring, heavy and cold.
His voice thundered across the Academy grounds:
"You train for hope… while we fight with grief. Which is stronger? Which will last longer—the smile of the living, or the screams of the dead?"
Students froze, shaken by the raw power of his words.
Even some of the villagers lowered their weapons, doubt clouding their hearts.
Inside the shadows, Rivan's heart raced. His mission was clear:
Whisper doubt. Spread fear. Break unity.
But as he watched Parashu rallying his friends, shouting "Stand together! None of this is real!"
…for the first time, Rivan felt torn.
The infiltration had begun.
The real war was not outside these walls—
It was inside the hearts of those who still dared to hope.