2026-04-24 09:29:17
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Murderer
Alpha Academy. Lectures were going on as usual — the familiar murmur of teachers' voices, the scratch of chalk on blackboards, the occasional rustle of notebook pages — when all of a sudden, an explosion ripped through the silence.The entire academy building shook.Windows rattled in their frames. Dust rained from the ceiling. Students screamed, chairs scraped against floors, and within seconds, chaos had replaced order. People ran out of their classrooms — some driven by fear, others by curiosity to see what was happening. After all, not all students of the academy had awakened a Regalia. For the ordinary humans among them, an explosion of this magnitude was a genuine threat to their lives.A voice rang out from the intercom — the announcer, trying to give information about the situation."Everyone, remain calm," the voice said, strained but professional. "It seems one of our students has lost themselves to their Regalia and become an Ajuma. The school staff will quickly take care o
Special elite
Back at Damian's home, he could be seen lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. What he was thinking about was something he had almost forgotten he had."Now that the money Mr. John gave me is almost completely spent," Damian muttered under his breath, "I think it's about time I look for a part-time job."More than half of the money had been used for repairs to the damage caused by Cleave. At best, he only had enough left to survive for one more week.He began to browse his phone, searching for any job he could do."Construction job," he read aloud, scanning the listing. "It pays ten Z dollars a week."A smile spread across his face. He was more than physically able to breeze through that kind of work. His expenses were only five Z dollars a week, meaning he could save half of his earnings indefinitely — provided he got the job.Just then, he felt a presence.An unsettling presence. Not like Cleave's signature — but the presence he felt was more like the absence of something. A void
I made it
In an isolated place where Damian only found solace and comfort — a place he visited once a month — he stood directly in front of his grandfather's grave. A thin trail of tears lined his cheeks, catching the pale light filtering through the canopy of old trees that surrounded the small cemetery. The air was still and heavy, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and wildflowers that had grown wild around the weathered headstone."I made it, Grandpa," Damian said, kneeling in front of the grave. He placed a bouquet of flowers on the gravestone — fresh blooms he had picked on his way here, their petals still wet with morning dew. "I've gotten stronger too. If only you were here to see me."He paused, gathering his thoughts."The academy is a lot easier than I thought. Maybe it's because of the way my life has been going." A bitter smile crossed his lips. "I also found out I have a devil inside of me. Oh, and I almost got killed. That would have been sad."He looked at the gravestone — a
Ranks
Alpha Academy. The morning sun cast long golden rays through the tall windows of the classroom, illuminating drifting dust motes that floated lazily in the air. The familiar scent of chalk and old books hung in the room, mixed with the faint underlying hum of Zeta energy that permeated every corner of the building.Damian walked into the classroom calmly. A few people shot glances his way, their eyes lingering for a moment before returning to their conversations. He looked toward his and Sagara's usual table — empty — then glanced around and spotted a free chair close to Austin."Can I sit here?" Damian asked.Austin spared him a glance, then nodded.The classroom fell into a brief, surprised silence. After all, Damian was probably the only person who could be considered Sagara's friend. Seeing him seated elsewhere, away from the silver-haired boy, was enough to draw quiet whispers.The time was just 8:30. Lectures would start at nine, so there were still thirty minutes before Mr. Sin
Mindscape
Two days had passed since Damian began training under Hinata at the Kaname clan estate. The evenings had blurred into a rhythm of practice and correction, of blue Zeta energy flickering across his skin as he worked to master the advanced armament technique she had taught him.Boost.He had learned it. Not perfectly — he lacked actual practice due to his condition, his legs still refusing to obey — but he had internalized the procedure. The circulation, the compression, the layering of energy around skin, muscles, and bones. It had started to feel natural, almost second nature. Like breathing, but with intent.Now, Damian sat on the edge of Sagara's bed — the same luxurious bed in the same luxurious room that belonged to the silver-haired boy — with the book about channeling open in his lap. The pages were worn from repeated reading, the margins filled with notes he had scribbled in his own handwriting. The afternoon light filtering through the tall windows cast long shadows across the
Boost
The Kaname clan estate stretched out under a cool evening sky, the last traces of daylight fading into deep shades of indigo and violet along the horizon. The second moon — the Zenexian Orb — hung low and luminous, its pale silver-blue light washing over the training grounds in a soft, almost ethereal glow. The air was crisp and carried the faint scent of pine and distant water, the kind of quiet that made the world feel larger than it was. Two people occupied the training area. Damian sat in his wheelchair at the edge of a wide concrete platform, his hands resting in his lap, his mismatched eyes — one red, one blue — reflecting the moonlight. Hinata stood a few meters away, her ash-gray hair tied back in a practical ponytail, her maid's outfit immaculate despite the evening chill. Her silver eyes studied Damian with the calm patience of someone who had trained many students before. "The Kaname clan," Hinata began, "is renowned for its barrier and binding techniques. We have dedi
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