The next morning didn't arrive with the usual chime of the Academy's bells or the distant hum of student chatter. Instead, it arrived with a heavy, pressurized stillness that turned the campus into a sprawling graveyard, a campus full of young prodigies who suddenly found themselves staring at their own hands, doubting their ability to reach the Rank 1 they dreamed about. And if they reached it, could they actually fight like what they saw?
Valeria had just finished getting ready to go to training when the heavy, rhythmic thud of combat boots stopped outside her door. She didn't need to check to know who it was.
The door slid open before she could even reach for the handle. Darius stood there, his frame cutting off the light from the corridor. He didn't step inside. He didn't need to. His presence already occupied every inch of the room.
"Instructor Darius," Valeria said, her voice clipped and cold. "I didn't expect a house visit."
"I leave in ten minutes," Darius said. His voice was no longer the booming roar, but the quiet, level tone was somehow more terrifying. He held out a thick, plain black leather folder. "You will find everyone's new training plans and every tool that is in the training ground and how to use them."
Valeria took the folder. It felt heavier than it looked. "Teacher, about Roy. Is there really no other way? I don't feel I deserve this."
Darius's eyes narrowed, the violet sparks in his irises flickering dangerously.
"Rank 1 isn't a trophy, Valeria. I only let you children treat it as one so you would actually try. In reality? It's a collar." Darius stepped forward, forcing Valeria to take a half-step back. "It means when one of these idiots decides to do something stupid and nearly gets thousands of people killed, you are the one who should have seen it coming. You are the one who should have stopped it before it happened. You are the one who stops the fuse before the bomb detonates."
Valeria looked down at the folder. "I understand."
"Do you?" Darius leaned in, his voice dropping to a predatory whisper. "Because right now, you look like you're mourning a friend. A Rank 1 doesn't have the luxury of mourning. You have a class that is terrified and can't regulate their own heartbeats, a doubled schedule, and no instructor for a week. Fix it."
He turned toward the hallway, his coat snapping behind him.
"The folder contains a biometric scanner. Once you sync, the platform is yours. I expect a report on my desk the moment I return."
"And if they ask about him?" Valeria called out, taking a step outside the room. "If they ask if he's coming back?"
Darius paused in the middle of the hallway, looking back over his shoulder. The light from the hallway caught the hard lines of his face, making him look less like a teacher and more like a statue of an old warrior.
"Tell them they agreed to be a part of this. They agreed to the possibility of one of them dying. If they can't get over the possibility of one of them leaving, then they need to train until reality stops hurting. Otherwise, they'll be the next ones gone."
After he finished, he left, leaving Valeria alone in the silence.
The sound was the worst part.
It wasn't a standard lock or a new door that was only opened by the teacher's hands. It was the heavy, industrial thud of Enchanted Lead-Steel. Roy sat on the edge of his bed, eyes fixed on the door, listening to the rhythmic clack-hiss of the magitech welders on the other side.
The Academy workers didn't speak. They worked with a clinical, terrifying efficiency. They were sealing a containment breach, not punishing a student.
Then came the window.
A low, tectonic hum vibrated through the floorboards. Outside his glass, a shimmering grid of hexagonal energy snapped into existence. It was the same high-density barrier used to protect the Academy's island.
Roy let himself fall on his back, staring at the ceiling. "I don't want to do this, but—"
He sighed and closed his eyes.
Valeria finally reached the platform after taking her time to read the files and get the authority to use the machines and tools. She thought everyone would be focused on their training in silence, but to her surprise, she heard shouting.
"What do you mean he deserves it?!" Omar's voice echoed off the training ground.
"He put everyone in danger. He is lucky it just ended like that!" Elise shouted back.
Valeria picked up her pace. Omar and Elise were in the center of a shouting match, and everyone around them was watching.
"He didn't want it to end that way. Didn't you hear that there is something we don't know about?" Omar said.
"It doesn't matter what he is going through or why he did it. The only thing that matters is that he put lives in danger, and that fact alone makes not killing him enough mercy," Elise clapped back.
"Mercy?" Omar staggered back as if he'd been hit. "Mercy? Fucking mercy!" He turned on his heel, storming past Valeria without even seeing her. "Those dumbasses don't know a thing," he muttered under his breath.
Valeria sighed and looked at Elise. "What happened?"
"Don't look at me. He was the one who started it," Elise said.
Valeria pinched the bridge of her nose. "That wasn't what I asked."
Marie stepped up to Valeria, looking worried. "Omar wanted to reach out to Roy. Elise told him to focus on the training. It turned ugly fast."
"It's already falling apart," Valeria muttered, then looked at Marie. "Can you go and make sure he won't do something stupid?"
"Sure." Marie ran to where she saw Omar going.
Marie walked to the forest, but she didn't find Omar. She continued until she reached the river. She looked all around her, but she didn't find anything. But then she saw something. Far away, one of the tips of one of the mountains in the mountain range was shaking.
"Could it be?"
She took to the air, her flight messy and unpracticed. She was just above the trees so they could catch her if she fell, as she had yet to master flying. Her flight was a mess. She kept hitting the trees under her and going too high. She needed complete focus on flying. As she got close, she began hearing a sound.
CRACK. SHATTER.
Just before she reached her goal, she fell inside the forest. She continued walking.
The trees, normally, would be touching the mountain, but there was a clearing at the base of the mountain. When she walked out of the forest, her eyes opened fully, and her mouth opened slightly from shock.
"Ha?"
Omar was standing right under the mountain, shirtless, scars all over his back. Deep, old scars. But that wasn't what made Marie shocked at first.
A crack that reached the tip of the mountain. No, it wasn't just a crack. The mountain split in half.
And in front of Omar were massive, impact circles where his knuckles had met the stone.
Omar retracted his hand to his side. "What do you want?" he asked, still facing the mountain that began to heal back to its normal form.
Inside Roy's mind, between the moon and the sun, a land where half is always day and the other is always night, Roy walked in the middle of it, where night and day mix.
Roy walked slowly between the trees.
Scrape.
The sound of metal shaving wood grew stronger and stronger as he got closer.
Scrape.
It was steady.
Scrape.
It was rhythmic.
Scrape.
It was the work of someone who had done this many times.
Roy finally reached his goal, a clearing inside the forest that was flat and mostly empty except for one tree log in the middle and an old man sitting on it, crafting different shapes with wood.
Unlike the other ghosts, who were wreathed in fog, this man was clear. He looked more alive than Roy did.
He was a giant, eight feet tall, his hair as white as it could get. He had a beard and a mustache. They were long, but not long enough to cover his mouth or make his hand full when he grabbed it.
His body was muscular; wearing a short-sleeve white shirt, his arms were covered with every kind of scar possible. And you didn't have to see to know that the scares were also all over his body.
He didn't look up. "What brought you here?" he asked softly.
Roy walked, his hands behind his back and looking down. "It has been a long time, Bors."
Bors continued shaving the wood, a thin ribbon of cedar curling away from his blade. "Aye. A long time. I still remember the last time we met, your words. I didn't think you would break it that fast." He sighed, finally setting the knife down. "But I understand why."