The morning bell rang across Eclipse Academy, echoing down the old corridors like a warning.Today wasn’t normal. No classes, no schedule. Every student was told to gather in the main auditorium, but no one knew why.“Okay, I’m calling it,” Minjae said as he and Jiwoo followed the crowd. “They’re either expelling someone, or we all failed as a species.”Jiwoo gave him a side glance. “You really think they’d cancel class just to kick someone out?”“You’d be surprised,” Minjae muttered.The auditorium was already packed — voices bouncing off the metal walls, holograms flickering above the stage. The LED strips overhead buzzed faintly, struggling to keep up with the heat of too many bodies in one place.Instructors stood along the sides, arms crossed, faces unreadable. That was never a good sign.Then the lights dimmed.A hush fell over the room as the side door opened and Headmaster Elias Kain stepped out. He didn’t need a microphone — his presence alone was enough to shut everyone up.

Morning in the Eclipse Academy's arena, the air itself trembling under the voice of thousands of spectators. For the first time in years, the great banners of Eclipse didn't hang in shame — they blazed under the morning light like challenges to the world.A wave of cheers followed — deafening, electric, hungry. After years of silence, Eclipse was alive again.In the prep hall below, tension replaced the noise. Students stretched, paced, or whispered silent prayers.Minjae stared at the trembling walls, his gloves half-pulled on, voice dry."Tell me this doesn't feel like we're marching into an execution."Rina's lightning sparked faintly across her fingertips, the air around her crackling in rhythm with her heartbeat."Maybe it is," she said flatly, eyes sharp."Encouraging," Minjae muttered, tugging at his collar.Across the room, Jiwoo adjusted his training jacket, gaze steady and calm.He could already feel the pressure of the crowd — like a storm pressing against his chest."Just