Blades Against Wings
The cafeteria erupted into chaos.
Ghost struck first, her blade leaving streaks of icy light across the air. Iris twisted beside her, flames curling along her sword, both assassins moving in a deadly rhythm. They weren't allies, not truly—but Jack had grown too dangerous for either of them to ignore.
Jack's wings responded before his mind did. Blue fire rippled outward, each feather becoming a shard of energy. He swung once, and the shockwave knocked back two Serpents mid-leap, their bodies slamming into the cracked wall.
Ghost pressed harder. "お前は制御できない!" she hissed in Japanese. "You can't control it!"
But Jack understood every syllable. His eyes narrowed. "Then I'll learn while beating you."
He dove forward, wings sweeping in an arc that shattered tables and chairs into dust. Ghost parried, Iris sidestepped, but the wave of force carried them both back.
The clans murmured, uneasy. Even the Griffins hesitated.
The Watchers Break Through
Outside, the Watchers clashed with the last line of mirror-beasts. Reyes' shield flickered under relentless strikes, sparks flying as claws scraped against its surface.
"Push forward!" he barked.
A squad broke formation, flanking the constructs with heavy rifles. Blue-white bursts of plasma cut through glassy torsos, shattering them into a rain of shards. The air smelled of ozone and smoke, the night vibrating with the Mirror Realm's screech.
The path to the school finally opened. Reyes didn't hesitate.
"Inside! Move!"
The Watchers charged through the ruined doors, their bangles glowing bright as the Mirror energy pressed in. The hallway walls warped like liquid silver, lockers bending into distorted shapes. The air was thick, heavy, like breathing underwater.
At the end of the corridor, they could hear it—clashing steel, explosions of flame and frost, the roar of something not human.
"Jack…" Reyes muttered, gripping his weapon. "Hang on, kid."
The Clash Tightens
Back in the cafeteria, Jack lunged again. His wings snapped open, sending feathers like glowing knives across the room. Iris spun, her blade deflecting one, but the second grazed her cheek. A thin line of blood shimmered, evaporating almost instantly against the heat of her aura.
"You dare…" Iris whispered, her voice laced with fury.
She shifted to Mandarin, testing him:
"他比我们想象的更危险."
"He is more dangerous than we imagined."
Jack blinked once—and then answered back in perfect Mandarin, shocking her.
"危险的不是我,而是你们逼我成为的东西."
"It's not me who's dangerous—it's what you're forcing me to become."
The room went still. Even Ghost faltered for a heartbeat.
That was when the cafeteria doors exploded inward.
The Watchers stormed in, rifles raised, shields glowing, eyes widening at the scene: Jack airborne, wings of fire stretching to the ceiling, clans arrayed in full combat, Ghost and Iris poised like twin executioners.
"Contact confirmed!" one Watcher shouted into comms. "The boy has manifested!"
Reyes saw Jack's eyes—burning, but not lost. Not yet.
He raised his voice above the storm.
"Jack! Stand down! We can help you!"
But Jack's wings flared, and the choice came in fire.
Wings of Fire, Shields of Light
Jack's body trembled, not with weakness, but with a power too big to contain. Every wingbeat cracked the cafeteria ceiling, each feather glinting like a comet. The Mirror Realm pulsed through him, fire and frost braided together, threatening to consume his veins.
Ghost circled him, sword glowing blue. Iris matched her, flames rising higher. They weren't allies, but in this moment, their blades aligned against him.
Jack's mind screamed: They'll kill me if I falter. They'll cage me if I yield.
He moved first. His wings snapped downward, hurling a wave of force that tore the floor apart. Tiles shattered, tables flipped, students dove aside. Ghost leapt over the shockwave, Iris carved through it with a flaming slash—but both staggered back.
The clans roared in response. Serpents ignited their gauntlets, Griffins summoned storm-winds, Reapers drew blades from shadows. All eyes burned toward Jack.
And yet—somewhere above the chaos—there was awe.
The Watchers' View
Reyes shoved his way into the cafeteria, shield held high.
"Jesus Christ…" one Watcher muttered.
The scene looked like a warzone staged in the heart of a school: walls bleeding molten silver, students in armor and masks, fire and lightning splitting the air, and in the center—a boy with wings of fire and frost, radiating enough energy to tear the city apart.
Reyes felt the bangle on his wrist vibrate violently, straining against the Mirror pressure. He barked into his comm:
"All units hold fire! Do not engage the boy unless absolutely necessary!"
The younger Watchers hesitated, rifles quivering. Jack didn't look like a boy anymore—he looked like a myth come alive.
Reyes pushed forward, his voice steady but sharp:
"Jack! Listen to me! You're not their weapon. You're not their enemy. You're more than this!"
Jack's gaze snapped to him. For a heartbeat—just a heartbeat—he saw the man who had shadowed him for months, the stranger watching from rooftops and unmarked cars.
"Why should I trust you?" Jack's voice cracked, layered with fire. "All of you… watching me like a specimen in a cage."
Reyes didn't flinch. "Because I know what happens if you lose control. And I'm the only one in this room trying to keep you alive."
The Language of Secrets
Ghost took her chance, lunging at Jack's blindside. Iris followed, twin flames trailing. Jack twisted, wings flaring, deflecting both. The air cracked with impact.
Ghost growled in Russian this time, testing him:
"Онещенеготов. Мыдолжныегосломать."
"He's not ready. We have to break him."
Jack's reply in flawless Russian cut through the smoke:
"Яникогданесломаюсь. Дажееслиэтоубьетменя."
"I'll never break. Even if it kills me."
The room froze again. Clans exchanged wary glances. Ghost's eyes widened just a fraction. Iris's flames dimmed for an instant.
Reyes caught it, his heart kicking. The kid understands everything… no barrier holds him. That's why they fear him.
And then, chaos broke again.
The Collision Course
The Griffins moved first, unleashing a torrent of wind that shook the cafeteria. Serpents followed, plasma bolts firing from their gauntlets. Jack's wings folded around him, creating a shield of burning frost. The blasts ricocheted, sending scorch marks across walls.
Reyes snapped his shield forward, absorbing the stray impacts. "Hold fire, damn it!"
But no one was listening. The clans surged, Jack roared, Ghost and Iris pressed in, and the Watchers stood caught between stopping a massacre and surviving one.
The cafeteria had become the center of a storm.
And at its heart, Jack realized the truth:
Every eye was on him. Every blade, every bullet, every scheme—he was the axis of their world now.
The Unleashing
Jack stood in the wreckage of the cafeteria, wings stretched wide, their edges glinting like blades forged from starlight and storm. Blood dripped down his knuckles, though it wasn't his own. Around him, the floor cracked in spiderweb fractures, humming with an energy that didn't belong to this world.
The clans had regrouped. Their eyes were wild, but not with fear alone—there was hunger there, the raw urge to topple him before he became something they could never challenge again.
They rushed as one.
Spears of plasma. Shadows like claws. Bolts of lightning. Blades of fire.
Jack's body moved before his mind gave command.
A step forward, and his wings tore the air, sending shockwaves that collapsed tables into splinters. His fist shot out, cloaked in fire that wasn't Iris' flame but something older, rawer—a phoenix's inferno that incinerated the Serpent who dared strike first.
Another pivot, and frost coiled from his palm, jagged spears erupting from the ground, impaling the shadows of the Reapers mid-lunge. Their screams froze in the air, shattering into silence.
Then came the Griffins. Wind howled as their wings cut down, spears aimed for his chest. Jack's own wings folded, then exploded outward, scattering their storm like paper in a hurricane.
This isn't power, Jack thought, even as the Mirror Realm screamed within him. This is inevitability.
Watcher
Reyes' shield rattled under the pressure of the boy's outburst. Light flickered dangerously across the band's edge. His squad cried out as their bangles overheated.
"Captain!" one shouted in Russian. "Мыневыдержим! Онразорвётсамоздание!"
"We can't hold it! He'll tear the building apart!"
Reyes didn't answer immediately. His eyes were locked on Jack. The boy wasn't just stronger than the clans. He was absorbing them. Every strike, every language, every tactic—he was pulling it all inside.
"Not yet," Reyes muttered in English, his voice tight. "Don't stop him yet."
His second-in-command gaped. "Sir—he'll kill them."
Reyes' lips curled into something grim. "Good. They need to see it."
Jack
Ghost reappeared behind him, blade glinting with poison. Iris followed, fire lashing out like chains.
Jack closed his eyes.
The Mirror inside him answered.
When his eyes opened, they were no longer human. One burned like the sun. The other glowed with glacial void.
The clans froze. Just for a heartbeat. But it was enough.
Jack moved, and the world bent.
Ghost's blade shattered before it touched him. Iris' fire was swallowed into his own, then spat back as a tidal wave that hurled her into the cafeteria wall, stone cracking around her limp form.
Jack's wings spread wider than before—wider than should have been possible. They weren't feathers anymore. They were weapons, blades of living light edged with fire and shadow.
He rose a foot off the ground, every step sparking light across the broken tiles. His voice came out layered, human and not:
"You want me on my knees?"
The clans trembled.
"Then kneel yourselves."
And the air bowed. The gravity in the room twisted downward, forcing knees to buckle, spines to bend. Even those who fought it—Ghost, a bloodied Serpent, a Griffin clutching a broken spear—were pressed lower, their bodies straining, sweat pouring down their foreheads.
Jack stood above them, wings burning like the dawn of a new god.
Watcher
Reyes' breath left him in a slow, bitter exhale. "So this is it."
The rookie at his side whispered, trembling, "Sir… is he even human anymore?"
Reyes' eyes never left Jack. His shield hummed, his body shaking under the backlash of the Mirror's power.
"No," he said finally, voice hard as steel. "He's more. And now the world will have to survive him."
The Aftermath
Silence followed.
Not the silence of peace. Not the silence of calm. But the heavy, suffocating silence that comes after a storm tears apart the sky and leaves the world unsure if it survived.
Jack lowered his wings slowly, the air still crackling with their energy. Light flickered along their edges, fading but not vanishing. His feet touched the ground, though it groaned under him as though the weight of his existence alone threatened to split it apart.
The clans were on their knees.
Ghost's hand still clutched her broken blade, her face pale but her jaw tight. Iris' fire sputtered weakly across her bruised body as she pulled herself upright against the cracked wall. The Griffins gasped, struggling to stand, their feathers singed, their pride shredded. The Reapers clutched their shadows as though the darkness itself had abandoned them.
No one spoke. Not yet. Not until the sound of glass cracking drew every eye upward.
Above, the cafeteria's windows finally gave way, raining shards like broken stars onto the ruined floor. The shards clattered around Jack—but not one touched him. Each piece curved in midair, skittering harmlessly away from his skin.
The clans noticed. Their eyes widened. Their fear deepened.
Jack looked at them—not with hatred, not with fury. But with something far worse. Indifference.
"You wanted a war," he said, voice still layered, though quieter now. "You wanted to prove yourselves. You thought I was prey."
His gaze swept over them like a blade. One by one, the clans lowered their heads further, some trembling, some scowling through clenched teeth, none able to meet his eyes.
"You're not ready to fight me," Jack finished.
Watcher
Reyes exhaled as the bands on his wrist cooled. His squad collapsed against the outer shield, panting as though they'd run marathons.
"Sir," his second-in-command rasped in Mandarin, "他是怪物. 没有人能阻止他."
He's a monster. No one can stop him.
Reyes didn't answer immediately. His eyes never left the boy who had just bent the strongest clans of the Mirror School to his will.
Monster wasn't the word. Not anymore.
But he couldn't let his squad see the tremor in his hands, or the thought whispering in his mind like a curse:
If he doesn't break, he'll be king. If he does… he'll be ruin.
Jack
The cafeteria reeked of smoke and blood. Yet Jack felt… empty.
The Mirror inside him was silent now, its hunger sated. His wings faded back into his shoulders, his eyes returning to their mortal colors. He breathed hard, chest heaving, his fists trembling not from exhaustion but restraint.
A thought cut through the haze: They'll never forgive this.
And they wouldn't. Ghost's glare, though weakened, burned hotter than any fire. Iris' eyes shimmered with something unreadable—rage, sorrow, or something else. The Griffins murmured to each other in their storm-tongue, half in fear, half in vengeance.
He had shown too much. More than he ever meant to.
Jack closed his eyes. "This fight's over."
He turned his back on them. On all of them.
And walked out.
Every step he took was followed by silence. None dared move until his shadow vanished through the cafeteria doors.
Clans
The silence broke at last.
Ghost spat blood onto the floor, her voice ragged but sharp. "He thinks it's over?" She coughed, clutching her ribs. "It's not over. It's just beginning."
A Griffin laughed bitterly, wings twitching. "Beginning? He made us bow like dogs."
"He made us bleed," another snarled.
Iris pressed a trembling hand against her chest, her breath uneven. "He made us see."
The room turned toward her. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes shadowed. She whispered something in Japanese, almost to herself:
"鏡は砕けるけれど,破片は刃になる."
The mirror may shatter, but its shards still cut.
None understood it fully. Not then. But they would.
And so, the clans—humiliated, fractured, and burning with vengeance—rose from the rubble.
Their war wasn't over.
It had just been rewritten.
Shadows and Councils
The cafeteria smelled of ash long after Jack had gone. His footsteps had vanished, but the weight of his presence still pressed against the walls like a ghost refusing to leave.
The clans gathered among the wreckage—scattered, bleeding, furious.
Clans' Secret Retaliation Meeting
It was Ghost who broke the silence. She slammed her cracked blade into the ground, sparks biting the air. Her voice was low, serrated, her silver hair sticking to the blood on her face.
"He humiliated us. All of us. If we don't respond, we're nothing."
The Griffins shifted uneasily. One of them muttered in Russian, thinking Jack couldn't hear anymore:
"Оннасуничтожил, какбудтомыбылимухами."
He destroyed us like we were flies.
But Jack wasn't there. Only Iris tilted her head, understanding perfectly, and her lips curved in a grim smile.
The Reapers' leader, black-eyed and pale, spoke from the corner where shadows curled. "He's not just another rival. He's something else. Something worse. We should tread carefully."
"Carefully?" Ghost snapped. "I don't know about you, but I don't bow to anyone. Not to him, not to anyone."
Her words burned, but Iris raised a hand. "No. He's right." Her voice was soft, but it cut through the room. "Jack isn't prey. He's not predator either. He's a mirror. Whatever we show him, he'll reflect back at us."
A hush fell. Even the Griffins' storm-chatter died.
Then Iris added, quieter, in Chinese so only some understood:
"鏡子会学会模仿一切.最终,它将比原始更锋利."
The mirror learns to mimic everything. In the end, it becomes sharper than the original.
Ghost narrowed her eyes. "So what do you suggest?"
Iris' fire flickered in her palm, dim and controlled. "We don't fight him as we are. We adapt. We evolve. We become more than what he can reflect. And then—when he least expects—we break him."
The Griffins hissed their agreement. The Reapers nodded in silence. Ghost smirked, blood on her teeth.
And so, in the ruins of their defeat, the clans forged a single thought: Jack would not stand above them forever.
The Watchers' Private Council
Far from the school, in a hidden chamber lined with dim blue light, the Watchers convened.
Commander Reyes sat at the center, his wrists still marked by the heat of his protective bangles. Around him, agents spoke in fragmented tongues, fear dripping into every syllable.
One slammed his fist on the table. "Оннеребенок. Этооружие."
He's not a child. He's a weapon.
Another countered in Japanese: "武器でも守護者でもあるかもしれない."
He may be a weapon—or a guardian.
The voices overlapped, colliding in Russian, Chinese, Spanish, Arabic—dozens of languages blending into a storm of doubt.
Finally, Reyes raised his hand, and silence fell. His voice was gravel and iron.
"Jack is neither weapon nor guardian yet. He is potential. Potential is more dangerous than either."
He leaned forward, eyes hard. "Our orders are clear: observe, contain if necessary. But understand this—if he chooses the wrong path, it won't be the clans who suffer first. It will be the world."
The chamber grew cold. No one spoke after that.
Jack
Meanwhile, Jack walked alone under the night sky, the weight of both silence and whispers pressing against his back. He didn't need to hear the languages spoken in secret. He already knew.
They were plotting.
They were watching.
They were waiting.
And though he told himself he wanted no part of their games, deep in his chest the Mirror stirred—hungry, eager, whispering:
Let them come.
Ashes of Evolution
The school looked untouched in the morning. Its windows gleamed, its halls hummed with laughter and chatter. Yesterday's battle was erased, as though it had never been.
But beneath the surface, shadows grew restless.
The Clans' First Experiment
Deep under the gymnasium—beneath locked doors and hidden stairs only a few dared to tread—the clans gathered. The walls of the chamber dripped with condensation, old pipes groaning overhead. Strange symbols burned faintly on the floor, a fusion of ancient runes and stolen tech.
The Griffins stood on one side, wings tattooed on their backs glowing faintly. The Reapers lingered in the corners like smoke. Ghost's Phoenix Clan was in the center, her silver gaze sharp as blades.
On the altar between them lay fragments: shards of Jack's shattered energy from the cafeteria fight, glowing faintly like embers refusing to die.
"This," Ghost said, her voice soft but lethal, "is our way forward."
One of the Griffins scoffed. "You want us to touch his power? To let it crawl inside us? That's suicide."
"No," Iris whispered, stepping closer, her hand trembling above the shards. "It's evolution."
The room held its breath as she spoke again, this time in Japanese:
"死を恐れるなら,成長も恐れることになる."
If you fear death, you will fear growth as well.
The Reapers muttered uneasily. Ghost tilted her head, smirking.
"Jack adapts because he reflects. But what if we take his reflection and twist it? What if we forge ourselves in the fire of his shadow?"
The chamber pulsed with heat. The shards hummed louder, responding to their intent.
For the first time since their defeat, the clans weren't fractured. They were united—by hunger, by defiance, by fear of being left behind.
They reached for the shards. And the chamber roared to life.
The Watchers' First Move
Miles away, in the Watchers' covert headquarters, Commander Reyes stared at a wall of holograms. Each flickered with Jack's face from different angles, caught on hidden cameras.
A younger agent slammed his report onto the table. "He doesn't sleep. At least, not like us. His energy levels don't dip. That isn't human."
Another added in clipped Russian: "Мыдолжныизолироватьего. Дотого, каконизолируетнас."
We should isolate him before he isolates us.
Reyes didn't answer immediately. He pulled a small black case from beneath the table and placed it carefully in the light. Inside rested a band of metal, faintly glowing—the Bangle of Silence, a prototype meant to dampen energy signatures.
"If the clans are foolish enough to keep poking him, let them burn," Reyes said. His voice was cold steel. "Our concern is containment. Surveillance isn't enough anymore. We need proximity."
He closed the case with a sharp click. "Assign an agent. Place them close. Within his circle."
Murmurs erupted. "That's suicide!" one cried.
Reyes looked up, his eyes hard as stone. "Then find me someone who doesn't fear death."
Jack
Jack sat at the edge of the school rooftop that same morning, his bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, staring at the city.
He felt it—something shifting beneath the surface. The clans stirring. The Watchers watching closer. Threads tightening around him.
He exhaled slowly.
They're not ready.
But the Mirror inside whispered back:
Neither are you.
Sparks in the DarkThe Clans' Evolution
The underground chamber shook with light.
The shards of Jack's energy had melted into liquid fire, crawling into the veins of those who dared to touch them. The air stank of burning metal and blood.
One Griffin screamed as feathers burst from his back, not wings but jagged blades of steel. His eyes glowed gold, then fractured into a kaleidoscope of broken mirrors.
The Reapers convulsed, their shadows tearing loose from their bodies, slithering like independent beasts.
Ghost herself stood at the center, still as stone, her hand clutching a shard pressed to her heart. Her lips moved, whispering words in ancient Mandarin:
"火は魂を試す."
The fire tests the soul.
Her body ignited in blue flame. For a heartbeat, she looked less like a girl and more like a god reborn in feathers and fire. The Phoenix within her screamed, stretching its wings wider than the chamber could contain.
And Iris—poor, defiant Iris—collapsed to her knees, her fingers clawing into the stone floor. Her hair turned pale silver, threads of light weaving through it like veins of crystal. She looked up, eyes shimmering with languages that weren't human at all.
The chamber doors burst outward from the force.
When the smoke cleared, the clans stood changed. Broken yet stronger. Beautiful yet monstrous.
But something darker lurked in their silence.
The Watchers' Agent
Morning sunlight spilled over the school courtyard. Students milled about, laughing, running, tossing papers.
Jack sat on a bench, headphones draped around his neck, pretending to scroll his music but staring at the world with a sharpened calm. He already sensed it—something foreign pressing against the ordinary rhythm.
A shadow fell across him.
"Mind if I sit here?"
The voice was smooth, unfamiliar, wrapped in a polite smile. The newcomer was tall, lean, with dark hair cut neatly and eyes that were too sharp for a transfer student.
Jack's gaze flicked once, reading him like an open book. His aura was muffled, deliberately quiet, as though caged. The bangle hidden under his sleeve pulsed faintly, wrapped in leather to disguise the glow.
"New?" Jack asked, sliding his bag aside.
The student nodded, offering a hand. "Name's Kai."
Jack took it, grip steady. His eyes narrowed.
Behind Kai's smile was something that didn't belong. A silence too heavy, too practiced.
Jack leaned back, pulling his hood lower. "Welcome to Westbridge."
Kai's smile never faltered. "Thanks. I hear things get… interesting around here."
Jack didn't answer. He just tugged at his headphones and pressed play, but his reflection in the glass window behind him smirked faintly—separate from his own expression.
The Mirror knew.
Crossroads
Far below, in the chamber still crackling with burnt magic, Ghost's new flames burned like a beacon.
And far above, in the bright sunlight of the schoolyard, Jack stared at the new arrival who wasn't what he seemed.
The world was shifting, piece by piece.
And everyone was playing with fire.
Broken Wings, Hidden FangsThe Clans in Shadow
The underground chamber had gone quiet, yet silence itself felt poisoned.
Ghost sat cross-legged on the cold floor, flames whispering around her like living silk. Every breath she took left trails of blue fire hovering in the air, as though even her exhalations had become untamed sparks.
Iris leaned against the broken wall, silver hair catching faint glimmers of the torchlight. Her skin radiated faintly, runes rippling across it like writing in a book only she could read. But her hands trembled.
From the far side, a Griffin warrior slashed his new blade-feathers against stone. The shriek of steel made everyone wince, and when he turned, his eyes weren't human anymore—they reflected like shattered glass.
One of the Reapers tried to rise, but his own shadow pinned him down. It thrashed and hissed like a living beast, snarling against his will. The boy clawed at his arms, voice cracking.
"It won't stop… it won't let me go!"
The rest watched in silence. They were all mutating in ways they couldn't control. The power Jack's shard had awakened was not a gift—it was a gamble.
Ghost closed her eyes. When she opened them, her pupils had turned avian, sharp, burning. She whispered in Russian, low and bitter:
We are no longer children.
Iris caught the words, her lips tightening. She answered back in Japanese, soft and cryptic:
Dream or reality?
The others didn't understand. And that was the point.
The Watcher's Trap
The school rooftop was quiet at lunch hour. Jack liked it that way. The sun was sharp, but the breeze kept him from suffocating. He sat with his lunch unopened, eyes half-lidded, as though listening to music that wasn't there.
The door creaked.
Kai stepped out, hands in his pockets, a half-smile carved across his face. "Didn't think anyone else came up here."
Jack didn't move. "Didn't think anyone cared."
Kai walked closer, his steps too measured, too quiet. He stopped near the rail, gazing out at the courtyard below. "Funny thing," he said casually, "schools like this… everyone looks normal. But if you watch carefully, you see cracks."
Jack tilted his head, finally meeting his eyes. "You watching a lot, then?"
Kai's grin widened a fraction. "It's a habit."
A silence hung between them, sharp as a blade. Kai reached into his pocket and tossed a small object at Jack. It spun once in the sunlight before Jack caught it—smooth metal, no larger than a coin, etched with tiny circles.
"What's this?" Jack asked, voice flat.
Kai shrugged. "Lucky charm. Thought you might like it."
Jack turned the coin in his palm. For a split second, he felt the faint pulse of energy humming inside—something ancient, hidden. He closed his fist and smiled faintly, though his eyes darkened.
"Thanks," he said, slipping it into his pocket.
But the moment Kai turned away, Jack's reflection in the rooftop doorframe smirked with teeth that didn't belong to him.
The Mirror was watching.
Cracks Widen
Below the school, in the hidden chambers of the clans, powers strained against their owners. Above, in the open light, an undercover Watcher pressed his game against the boy at the center of it all.
And Jack…
Jack walked between both worlds, already knowing neither would survive unchanged.
Sparks in DaylightThe Hidden Fire
The cafeteria buzzed like a hive. Laughter, trays clattering, the usual chaos. To everyone else, it was an ordinary school day. But to Iris, every sound pressed like a blade to the skull.
Her hands shook as she unwrapped her bento. The silver runes on her arms shimmered faintly, glowing beneath her sleeves. She bit her lip, forcing herself to breathe slow—one, two, three—but the markings pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.
Across the room, Ghost sat quietly with chopsticks in hand. But the air above her tray warped faintly, heat rising where there should be none. Her eyes flickered phoenix-blue for a moment, and the noodles in her bowl sparked into flames before snapping back into normalcy.
No one noticed—except Jack.
He leaned back in his chair, casual, one eye half-lidded. His reflection in the cafeteria window leaned forward instead, smirking, whispering words only he could hear.
"Cracks," the Mirror hissed. "They'll split soon. They can't hold it."
Jack blinked, face unreadable. He reached for his drink, acting like nothing happened.
The Accident
Kai strolled through the cafeteria, tray in hand, wearing his usual careless grin. But his eyes darted—sharp, calculating, always watching. He "accidentally" nudged the back of a freshman's chair. The boy stumbled forward, colliding with a table, sending a tray flying—soup, glass, and metal cutlery crashing toward Jack.
It was too fast for any normal student to dodge.
But Jack didn't move.
The glass and soup froze inches from his face, suspended in midair. The cafeteria lights flickered once, then everything clattered harmlessly to the floor, as though gravity had hiccupped.
Gasps rippled through the room. Students blinked, rubbed their eyes, muttered about déjà vu. For them, the scene slipped through memory like water through fingers.
But Kai saw.
His grin widened a fraction, his eyes cold. "Interesting," he murmured.
Jack finally looked at him, expression blank. "Clumsy."
Kai chuckled. "Guess so."
The Warning
After lunch, Iris pulled Ghost aside in the stairwell, voice low and trembling.
"You felt it too, didn't you? He's—"
Ghost cut her off, eyes burning faintly. "Don't say it. Not here."
She glanced over her shoulder, and for a heartbeat, her feathers shimmered through her hoodie, sharp and burning-blue. She clenched her fists until they vanished again.
"Hold it together," Ghost hissed, voice dropping into Chinese, harsh and clipped:
"他正在看我们."
He is watching us.
Iris understood. She didn't need to ask who "he" was.
The Mirror Stirs
That night, Jack lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The coin Kai had given him pulsed faintly in his palm, its etched circles glowing like an eye.
His reflection in the window twisted, grinning wider than his own face.
"They want to hide from you," it purred. "They speak in borrowed tongues, they burn themselves trying to control what you already own. Why pretend?"
Jack closed his hand around the coin, pressing it to his chest.
"Not yet," he whispered.
His reflection only laughed.
When Sparks Become FlamesThe Crack in the Veil
Morning sunlight spilled across the quad, washing the stone steps of the academy in gold. Students lounged with backpacks at their feet, the lazy chatter of normal life rising like birdsong.
But beneath it, Iris felt the shift.
It was always subtle at first—like the way shadows seemed to stretch too long, or how laughter carried a fraction too slowly through the air. A seam tearing in silence. She clutched her sleeve tighter over her forearm. The silver tattoos writhed, glowing faintly through fabric.
"Not now," she whispered to herself. "Please… not here."
Ghost, across the courtyard, froze mid-step. Her gaze snapped toward Iris, then toward Jack, as if sensing the same ripple. Her eyes flashed blue. The ground beneath her sneaker smoked faintly.
The Outburst
It started with a sound—like glass cracking.
A sophomore tripped on the edge of the fountain, his water bottle tumbling across the stone. Instead of spilling normally, the water surged upward, coiling midair like a serpent before splashing against the ground with unnatural force.
Students gasped. Some laughed nervously. But then Iris's arm flared, glowing sigils crawling across her skin. Her textbooks burst apart, pages scattering, each one sizzling as though licked by fire.
Ghost's control shattered. Feathers of blue fire unfurled from her shoulders, wings snapping wide with a burst of heat that sent students screaming and dropping phones.
The courtyard descended into chaos.
Phones shook in their owners' hands. Screens glitched, recording nothing but static. The Mirror's influence bending perception, burying evidence before it could ever exist.
Jack in the Middle
Jack stood at the heart of it all, utterly still, as if the chaos moved around him instead of through him. His reflection in the fountain water leaned close, whispering like a friend who had been waiting for this exact moment.
"They can't hide anymore. You feel it, don't you? The crack is permanent."
Iris stumbled toward Jack, eyes wide with panic, voice trembling as she slipped into Russian without thinking:
"Оннедолженэтовидеть. Неон."
He mustn't see this. Not him.
But Jack understood every word.
He met her gaze calmly, though the Mirror behind his eyes laughed.
The Watcher's Net
High above, leaning lazily against the rooftop railing, Kai watched the chaos unfold. His grin never reached his eyes.
He tapped his wristband once, and a thin shimmer expanded across the quad—a subtle net of energy invisible to the panicking students. To him, it was like stringing threads in a web.
"Dance for me," he murmured. "Show me what he is."
The coin he had given Jack pulsed in answer from the boy's pocket.
The Silence After
And then—just as quickly as it had begun—the chaos ended.
The fountain was still. The pages lay scattered, untouched by fire. The students blinked, rubbed their temples, muttered about stress, déjà vu, weird dreams. The veil had reset the memory.
All except for three.
Iris, Ghost, and Jack.
They stood in the courtyard, staring at one another like survivors of a fire no one else remembered.
And on the rooftop, Kai leaned back with a wolfish grin.
"Oh yes," he whispered. "He's the center. All roads lead to Jack."
The Questioning & The NetThe Hidden Corner
The quad had swallowed its own chaos. Laughter returned, conversations resumed, and for most students, nothing had happened at all.
But Iris's hand shot out, fingers curling tight around Jack's wrist.
"Come with us," she hissed, dragging him toward the shadow of the old library. Ghost followed, her steps sharp, her aura still leaking faint trails of blue smoke.
Jack didn't resist. His calmness unnerved them more than anything else. He should have been shaking, babbling, denying. Instead, his expression was quiet—watchful.
Iris released him only when they reached the stone archway hidden by ivy. Her silver tattoos flickered faintly like restless lightning under her sleeve.
"You understood me." Her voice cracked. "When I spoke in Russian. You looked right at me. No hesitation."
Jack tilted his head. "Why wouldn't I?"
Ghost stepped closer, fire shimmering faintly in her eyes. She switched to Japanese, her tone clipped and sharp:
"彼は人間のはずよ.どうしてこんなことができるの?"
He's supposed to be human. How can he do this?
Jack's answer came in perfect Japanese, without pause. "人間だからって,分からないわけじゃない."
Just because I'm human doesn't mean I don't understand.
Both girls froze.
The Accusation
"You're lying," Iris whispered. Her pupils thinned, predator-like, as her power stirred. "No one learns all of that on their own. Not even us. Languages are built into our bloodlines, our sigils, our clans. You—" She stepped closer, trembling. "You shouldn't be able to hear us like that."
Jack's lips curved faintly—not quite a smile. "Maybe you shouldn't assume what I can or can't do."
Ghost exhaled sharply, her aura flaring, wings half-manifesting before she forced them down. "You're dangerous, Jack. More dangerous than you admit. If you're hiding something, we need to know. We can't have…" Her voice softened, almost breaking. "…we can't have another betrayal."
For the first time, Jack's gaze flickered—like he wanted to say something but swallowed it back.
Kai's Net
Above them, unseen, Kai leaned over the roofline. His bracelet glowed faintly, feeding energy into the shimmering threads that spiderwebbed across the courtyard and around the library walls.
Every word, every flicker of emotion—they were his now. He tapped a control, and a faint outline of Jack's aura began to form, like heat shimmering off pavement.
And what he saw made his grin widen.
The boy's aura wasn't one color, like the others. It wasn't silver like Iris's storm, or blue like Ghost's flame. It was layered. Dozens of hues, cycling, shifting, consuming each other like a storm of mirrors.
"Ah," Kai whispered. "So that's why they can't place you. You're not one of them. You're all of them."
The net pulsed. Slowly, silently, Kai tightened it. A trap Jack couldn't see, but soon—soon—he would feel.
The Moment of Truth
Back below, Iris's voice trembled with anger and fear.
"If you're on our side," she whispered, "prove it. Tell us the truth. Who are you, Jack?"
For a heartbeat, the world stilled. Jack could feel the threads of Kai's net brushing against his skin, tugging faintly at his heartbeat, his breath. He knew someone else was listening. Watching.
But Iris and Ghost—eyes wide, caught between distrust and something softer—waited only for him.
And Jack, who carried every language, every reflection, and every secret he couldn't yet reveal, had to choose:
Tell them enough truth to keep them close.Deflect with mystery, playing into the fear and attraction both girls felt toward him.The Half-Truth
Jack exhaled slowly, the faintest crack of weariness slipping through his mask. He met Iris's gaze—hers like stormlight, cutting and raw—and Ghost's, fire and sorrow burning behind her composure.
"You're right," he said softly. "I'm not normal. But I'm not your enemy either."
Iris's breath caught. Ghost stiffened but didn't move.
Jack's eyes lowered, voice measured, careful. "I don't know why I understand what I do. Maybe it's a curse, maybe a gift. All I know is—it's always been there. Waking up knowing things I shouldn't, speaking things no one taught me. It scared me at first. Still does."
The truth rang in his words, yet the omissions were knives hidden in cloth.
Ghost's expression faltered. For the first time, doubt softened her suspicion. Iris leaned closer, studying him like she could peel away his skin and find the truth beneath.
"You're saying you're… what? Some kind of vessel?" she asked.
Jack didn't answer—because anything more would unravel everything. Instead, he let the silence settle, heavy, dangerous.
It was enough to keep them close. Enough to make them want more.
And enough to keep Kai watching from above, smirking at how easily Jack spun half-truths like silk.
The Shadow
But in another thread of possibility, Jack chose differently. He leaned back against the ivy-laced wall, his posture relaxed, the ghost of a smirk touching his lips.
"Mysteries," he said quietly, "are sweeter than answers. Don't you think?"
Ghost stiffened, her aura sparking in frustration. "You—"
"Think about it." Jack's voice lowered, smooth as a blade sliding free of its sheath. "You're drawn to what you don't understand. You want to know more, even when it burns. That's why you're here. Both of you."
Iris's cheeks flushed—not entirely from anger. She hated how his words sank into her bones, how he twisted fear into fascination.
"You play dangerous games," she whispered.
Jack's smirk widened just enough. "Maybe. But you're still playing with me."
The silence that followed wasn't filled with trust. It was charged, electric—an edge where attraction and suspicion blurred until neither girl could step away.
Above them, Kai chuckled under his breath. "Oh, he's clever. Too clever. But that's fine, Jack. Keep your mysteries. I'll peel them away myself."
Convergence
Both paths bled into the same truth: Iris and Ghost left the ivy-shadow not with answers, but with Jack tangled deeper into their lives. Whether through his fragile honesty or his intoxicating mystery, he bound them closer.
And high above, Kai's net pulsed tighter, wrapping around Jack's aura like a predator coiling to strike.
Soon, the Mirror Clan would have to choose—trust Jack, or destroy him before his secrets consumed them all.
Tongues of War
The air between them grew taut, every breath steeped in danger. Moonlight crawled down the ruined walls, painting the courtyard in fractured silver.
Kai crouched like a hawk, eyes cold, blade resting casually across his shoulder. He spoke first—his words low, clipped, in Russian.
«Тыслишкомспокоендляжертвы.» (You're too calm for prey.)
Jack's eyes flicked upward, unblinking. "Funny. That's what I was thinking about you."
Kai's jaw tightened, but the smirk never left his face. He switched tongues—Japanese now, his words edged with challenge.
「死ぬ準備はできているか?」 (Are you ready to die?)
Iris's grip tightened on her weapon. Ghost muttered a curse under her breath, muscles tensing, but Jack only tilted his head as if deciphering a puzzle no one else could.
"準備?" Jack repeated, his Japanese rough but intelligible, his grin widening. "I don't prepare for death. I prepare for victory."
That got Kai's attention. His smirk faltered—just a flicker. The boy shouldn't have understood.
The shadows above stirred uneasily. One Griffin whispered in Mandarin, a harsh hiss through the ivy.
"他听懂了." (He understood.)
Ghost's eyes snapped toward Jack, realization dawning. He wasn't supposed to know. No outsider could follow this weave of assassin tongues—yet somehow, Jack did.
Iris looked at him sideways, suspicion and intrigue warring in her gaze. "What else are you hiding, boy?"
Jack didn't answer. Instead, he raised his mirrored blade, letting it catch the moonlight until its fractured glow splintered across the courtyard like shards of glass.
The Griffins finally moved.
They dropped from the rooftops in unison, shadows sprouting wings of steel. The courtyard erupted—ivy tore, stone shattered under boots, blades whistled through air.
Kai launched first, his strike a streak of silver cutting straight for Jack's throat.
Jack met it head-on.
Their swords clashed in a burst of sparks, light scattering like a shattered mirror.
And just like that, the night exploded into war.
The Break of Blades
Jack stood in the eye of the storm, his new blade humming with a resonance that wasn't bound by steel. It vibrated with something older, stranger—something no clan recognized. His wounds sealed with light, and his stance sharpened until even the most disciplined assassins flinched.
Then he moved.
The courtyard lit up as his blade carved arcs of mirrored flame. Every strike carried an echo, a phantom copy of itself, so Kai faced not one attack but many—an army of blades in the hands of a single boy.
The first swing disarmed Kai.
The second flung him back into the cracked stone.
The third carved a line of fire across his chest, forcing the proud assassin to his knees.
Gasps and cries broke from the Griffins, some shouting in French, some in Japanese, others in Russian, trying to veil their horror.
"Оннечеловек…" (He's not human…)
"Impossible!"
"Shinde iru hazu da!" (He should already be dead!)
But Jack understood every word. His lips curled in a grim line.
Kai coughed blood, yet when he lifted his head, his grin had returned—wider, fiercer. His aura, already blazing, exploded outward like a green inferno. The tattoos on his arm spread across his body, glowing brighter, burning symbols into his skin. The ground quaked beneath him.
"Don't… underestimate me."
In a single motion, his blade snapped back into his grasp, shimmering with a venomous light. He slashed upward, unleashing a crescent of energy so violent it tore the courtyard wall apart.
Jack caught it with his mirrored sword, sparks raining down like falling stars.
The air screamed.
Kai roared, unleashing everything, every forbidden art drilled into his body by the Griffins. His form split into dozens of afterimages, striking from every angle at once, each slash humming with killing intent.
Jack met them all. His blade moved with inhuman rhythm, countering strike for strike, until sparks became firestorms, and the courtyard glowed like a battlefield between gods.
Neither yielded.
The clans who watched fell silent, their usual banter and hidden tongues forgotten. Even Iris, even Ghost, said nothing now. Only the clash of steel, the tearing of stone, and the burning air filled the night.
It was no longer a duel.
It was a war contained within two bodies.
And everyone watching knew—whoever won would change the balance of every clan forever.
When the World Shakes
The air rippled as Jack and Kai's blades clashed again, the collision ringing like the tolling of a war-bell. Sparks flew in showers that ignited fragments of the courtyard, the ground trembling as though some ancient god stirred beneath it.
Jack's breath came steady, impossibly steady, as though the strange light coursing through him carried his lungs, his heart, his very blood. Every time Kai's blade slashed down, Jack's mirrored sword answered, flowing like water, harder than diamond.
Kai spat blood but never faltered. His grin widened into something savage, almost feral. The veins on his arms glowed like molten threads beneath his skin, the ancient markings of the Green Griffins now crawling across his body, warping him into something less than human, more than human.
"You think you can carry all that power, boy?" Kai roared, his voice half-human, half-snarling echo. "Then carry this!"
He leapt, both hands gripping his blade, and brought it down with the weight of a collapsing mountain.
Jack raised his sword. When the weapons met, the ground itself cracked, a spiderweb fracture racing outward in all directions. Whole slabs of stone lifted from the courtyard as though gravity itself had been shattered. The watching students staggered back. Some fell to their knees. Even Iris had to throw her arm up to shield her eyes from the storm.
For a heartbeat, the clash locked them in stillness—Kai's strength against Jack's awakening—before the force erupted in a shockwave that shattered the nearest walls and blew bodies into the air.
Through the haze of dust, Kai came again, relentless, his sword a blur. He spoke now in fragments of languages, desperate incantations woven into every strike.
"死ね!" (Die!)
"Сломайся!" (Break!)
"Cendre à cendre…" (Ashes to ashes…)
Words meant to confuse, to curse, to cloak his intent. But Jack heard them all, understood them all. He answered not with words, but with steel. His blade sang in arcs of mirrored flame, each swing dragging echoes of itself through the air until Kai was forced into a storm he could not control.
At last, Jack struck. His sword came down in a mirrored arc that split the courtyard's great fountain in two, the spray of water erupting like blood. Kai barely managed to cross his blade in time, the force driving him to one knee.
The Griffins shouted in a dozen tongues.
"Chef!" (Boss!)
"Capitán!"
"Aniki!"
But Kai only laughed, coughing crimson onto the stones. His grin widened, eyes glowing with the madness of one who had touched too much forbidden power.
"You're… not human, Jack." His voice broke into a rasp, but still carried pride, fury, defiance. "And neither am I. So let's finish this… as monsters."
He rose again, blade trembling with a green fire so bright it painted the ruins of the courtyard in sickly light.
Jack tightened his grip. The mirrored sword pulsed, whispering to him in a thousand voices. His reflection stared back at him in its polished steel—not just his reflection, but shadows of countless selves, countless futures. For the first time, fear touched him.
And still, he raised the blade.
The final clash came with the weight of inevitability. Their swords met mid-air, and the world seemed to shudder beneath the blow. Windows exploded. The clock tower of the academy groaned, stones toppling. Students were thrown off their feet, tossed like leaves in a storm.
And then—
A blinding surge of white tore between them.
The air shimmered, and heavy boots pounded the cracked ground. A ring of figures appeared, bangles glowing at their wrists. The enforcers—the secret squad of cops who alone bore witness to the hidden war—had arrived. Their protective bangles pulsed with power, holding back the shockwaves, stabilizing the broken air.
"Enough!" one of them roared, his voice amplified by the bangle. "This city won't survive another second of your duel!"
Jack stumbled back, his mirrored sword dimming in his grip, its voices falling silent. Kai staggered too, his fire sputtering, his chest heaving like a beast caged too long.
Both glared at each other across the ruined courtyard, their bodies wrecked but their wills unbroken.
The battle was unfinished.
But for tonight, it was stolen from them.
An Uneasy Pact
The ruins of the courtyard smoldered under the pale wash of moonlight. Smoke curled like ghosts from the shattered walls, and the fountain lay cracked open, its waters bleeding into the earth.
For the first time since the battles began, the leaders of the clans stood together—though none lowered their weapons. The Green Griffins, the Silent Fang, the Crimson Veil, the Iron Talons, and others, battered and bloodied, all kept their wary distance. Their eyes flicked toward Jack, toward the mirrored blade humming faintly in his grip, and toward Ghost and Iris who stood at his side like shadows.
Kai spat blood and staggered upright, his sword clattering to the ground. He studied Jack for a long moment, then turned to his own clan members. "We've bled enough tonight." His voice was hoarse but firm. "More, and none of us will have anyone left to command."
The Crimson Veil leader, a tall girl with scarlet streaks in her hair, narrowed her eyes. "So what? We call a truce because you're too broken to stand?"
Ghost stepped forward before Jack could answer. Her assassin's hood was torn, one sleeve shredded, but her eyes glowed like burning sapphires in the dark. "Not a truce," she said coldly. "A choice. Either we keep killing each other until the real enemies sweep in and finish what's left… or we fight together."
Her words cut through the tension like a blade.
Iris added softly, her tone carrying the weight of prophecy, "The enforcers will return. And when they do, they won't care which clan bleeds—they'll erase us all. Unless we stand as one."
Silence fell. The leaders shifted uneasily, suspicion warring with recognition. They had all felt it—the raw weight of the enforcers, the way their bangles bent reality, the way they vanished as if time itself obeyed their command.
Jack finally lifted his head. The moonlight caught on his blade, scattering fragments of reflected faces—his, Kai's, Ghost's, Iris's, and the others, all overlapping, all bleeding into one another. For the first time, he realized what the mirror sword was showing him: not just himself, but everyone bound by its reflection.
He raised the sword high, its glow flaring like a beacon. "We are enemies no longer," he said, voice ringing with command he didn't know he possessed. "From this night forward, there is only one clan. One mirror. One fight."
The Crimson Veil leader's jaw clenched, but she slowly lowered her weapon. "And what do you call this… new clan?"
Jack's eyes met Ghost's. For a moment, the chaos fell away, and there was only the weight of her gaze—sharp as knives, yet trembling with unspoken fire. She gave the faintest nod.
"The Mirror Clan," Jack said. "Born of all reflections. Stronger than any single blade."
One by one, weapons lowered. The air shifted—still heavy, still sharp, but no longer ready to explode.
Ghost exhaled, stepping to Jack's side, closer than she ever had before. Her voice dropped so only he could hear. "You just made yourself a leader."
Jack smirked faintly, though his knuckles were white on the hilt of his blade. "Don't sound so surprised."
She tilted her head, studying him, her lips curving with a hint of something dangerous, something tender. "I'm not. I just hope you can handle the weight that comes with it."
Their eyes lingered longer than they should have, the battlefield forgotten for the space of a heartbeat.
The Birth of Mirrors
The courtyard was silent but for the hiss of dying flames and the soft rasp of breath from the survivors.
Jack stood at the center, sword still raised, its mirrored surface trembling with captured light. Every clan leader had lowered their weapon, but the unease hadn't left the air. Trust was not born in words—it was carved, scar by scar.
"We need more than promises," Ghost said, her voice carrying across the ruined stone. She pulled back her hood, revealing the streak of blue ink that cut across her jawline, glowing faintly in the moonlight. "If we're to call ourselves one clan, we need a mark that binds us. Something none of us can walk away from."
The Crimson Veil leader scoffed. "A mark? On your terms?"
"No," Iris interrupted, her tone even, eyes glittering like glass under starlight. She lifted her hand, the faint shimmer of her own aura reflecting in the cracks of the fountain's waters. "On the mirror's terms. The blade decides."
Jack frowned, not fully understanding, until the mirror sword pulsed in his grip. A ripple of silver light coursed through its length, spilling across the broken courtyard like a tide. The flames bent inward, shadows twisting. Reflections bloomed across the cracked stone—each clan leader's face, each fighter's scars, all woven together as if the blade itself was gathering them.
The sword whispered against his palm, a resonance that wasn't sound but understanding. Jack raised it higher, and the reflection burst outward, splitting into fragments that leapt to each warrior's skin.
A mark seared itself onto their forearms, glowing for a heartbeat before settling into ink-black lines: a sigil of fractured glass, a mirror broken but not destroyed, the cracks forming a single shape that caught the light no matter where it turned.
Gasps echoed. Some staggered back, clutching their arms. Others stared, wide-eyed, at the identical sigil now binding them.
"The Mirror Clan," Jack said, voice low, steady. "Not yours. Not mine. Ours."
For the first time, no one argued.
Ghost glanced down at her mark, then at Jack. Her lips curved, half-smirk, half-something softer. "Looks like you've just branded us all," she murmured.
Jack almost answered, but the air shifted. The ground rumbled under their feet. Iris's head snapped toward the horizon, her expression hardening.
"They're here," she whispered.