Morning sunlight crept across the windowsill, far too bright for someone who had planned to stay under the covers and pretend life didn't exist. Unfortunately, life always had other plans for me. Especially the kind of life where you wake up in a world that seems personally designed to bully you to death.
I rubbed my eyes, sat up, and found a weight on my chest.
"…Whiskerdoom."
The oversized, sarcastic ball of fur yawned on top of me, stretching like he owned the place. His stubby tail flicked once before he gave me a look that screamed, "Finally awake, idiot?"
"Why are you using me as a mattress again?" I asked.
"Because you're soft," Whiskerdoom replied without even blinking. His voice carried that smug, gravelly tone only a cat-shaped demon could pull off. "Also, I needed the vantage point in case assassins came through the window."
"…That's not funny."
"It's not a joke."
I decided not to think about that too deeply. Instead, I turned to the desk in my cramped room. Something sat there — crisp parchment sealed with wax, glowing faintly like it wanted to bite me.
I froze. "What… is that?"
Whiskerdoom hopped off my chest, landing with a dramatic flourish only a six-pound creature could manage. "That," he said, "is trouble. The kind you can't ignore."
I swallowed and reached for it. The seal was marked with an intricate crest — the Academy's emblem.
My heart sank. "No. Nope. No way. This is bad news. Do you know whose life got ruined in the Academy?"
"Riel's," Whiskerdoom answered instantly, as if savoring the reminder.
Riel — the original villain of the story. The one everyone hated, the one destined to fall, the one whose shoes I had the misfortune of filling. And the Academy? That was where his reputation had burned brightest.
I broke the seal with trembling hands and unfolded the parchment.
"To Lord Riel Arkwood — You are formally invited to attend the Royal Arcadia Academy, beginning next month. Your admission is sponsored directly by Her Highness, Princess Celis Arclight."
I reread it. Twice. Three times.
Then I dropped it on the desk and covered my face with both hands. "Oh no. Oh no no no. She's trying to kill me."
Whiskerdoom tilted his head. "Or she's trying to watch you die slowly. Both are equally likely."
"Why would she sponsor me of all people? She hates me. Everyone hates me. This is like volunteering to walk into a den of wolves with a steak tied around my neck!"
"Correction," Whiskerdoom purred. "It's like walking into a den of wolves where all the wolves already know you once poisoned their cousin."
I groaned. The worst part was, he wasn't exaggerating. The Academy wasn't just a school — it was the stage where heroes were molded, where princesses smiled their most dangerous smiles, and where villains like me were publicly humiliated until the world cheered.
"This is a death flag," I whispered. "A giant, sparkling, waving in the wind death flag."
Whiskerdoom hopped onto the desk, swiping his paw across the letter like he was dusting it. "You could always decline."
I shot him a look. "Decline? And then what? Get branded a coward? Disrespect the Princess's order? You know what happens to people who disrespect the Princess in this world?"
"They live longer?" he suggested hopefully.
I shook my head. "They vanish. Off-screen. That's worse."
Whiskerdoom's whiskers twitched, his version of a smirk. "Then it seems you have no choice, oh great Lord Riel."
I slumped back in my chair. The paper still glowed faintly, as if mocking me.
"…I knew it," I muttered. "This really is an invitation I can't refuse."
And just like that, the road to the Academy — and to the disaster awaiting me there — had begun.