Night blanketed the academy soon enough; everything was still. The breeze was slow and cold outside. The moon hid behind dark clouds. The atmosphere was calm.
Inside the dorm room, shadows stretched across the walls, the faint flicker of moonlight escaping through the space between the curtains. Sei lay motionless on his bed, eyes half-lidded as he listened carefully to the silence — Navi's soft breathing from the other side.
He waited for them to sleep.
The clock's minute hand ticked in silence. It was deep in the night — the kind of time that felt hollow.
Sei slipped the blanket aside and rose without a sound. His feet made no more than a whisper on the floor. He moved like smoke, careful not to wake Navi, not even Fari, whose silver fur gleamed faintly under the moonlight from the window.
With each step through the empty hallway, his heart pounded louder. He stepped out into the garden. The slow, cold breeze greeted him.
The towering wall stood in front of him, silent. He took a quick glance around and then found the place where the tunnel was. His hand slid over the hard wall. Though he had done it before, it still made his skin crawl as his hand slipped through the solidness. Then he stepped in.
Darkness was the only thing waiting inside the tunnel, his nose filled with the same smell of damp earth and stagnant water. It was colder this time — or maybe it was just his imagination.
Walking through the uneven surface of the tunnel, he finally emerged in the same alley. His heart filled with a strange creep as he saw the place untouched — broken crates and rocks. He could hear the strange humming from the city, the golden glow visible from above the roofs. But the place was now filled with mysterious calm.
Then Sei saw it — at the far end of the street.
A figure stood, hidden in darkness and covered by a cloak. He stood still like a stone sculpture waiting for someone. As soon as their eyes met, the figure turned and ran towards the city.
Sei's body moved instinctively. "Wait!" he called out, running behind him.
The figure ran precisely — faster than an average human — through the glowing streets of the Capital. Sei followed him as best he could. He wanted answers, and there was only one way to get them.
Meanwhile, back at the tunnel, Navi emerged into the alley, gasping softly as her body passed through the wall. Her eyes darted around in shock. She had never seen such a thing. This was beyond what she could have thought.
"Sei?" she whispered, heart thudding.
No answer. Only silence. She was alone.
She held her arm close to her side, bracing herself against the sense of fear. "Sei?" she whispered again, but her voice was devoured by the walls of the empty alley.
She moved forward hesitantly, the humming of the city getting louder as she walked. Her boots tapped unevenly against the cobbled stone as she exited the alley into the heart of the Capital.
The sight made her stop. The city opened before her like a dream too bright to be trusted.
The Capital was glowing with dozens of lanterns hovering in front of shops, casting golden pools of warmth along cobblestone streets. Shops were still open; the view was like a painting come to life. Children laughed, trailing behind late-working parents.
It was past midnight, yet the city danced — not too crowded but not too silent.
Navi's mouth parted slightly, awe curling in her chest — but beneath that wonder, fear still stayed.
She moved quickly, weaving through the crowds of people, her heart pounding hard not only from the beauty but also from the question: where was Sei?
Then — two shadows stepped into her path.
Two men. Tall, rough faces, clearly drunk. One swayed slightly as he noticed her — his grin crooked, lips twisted in an unpleasant hunger.
"Hey there, little bird," he drawled, voice slurred and thick.
Navi took a step back.
The second man circled behind her, trapping her between them.
"She's got those fancy school robes," he sneered. "Probably rich and soft."
The first man laughed, ugly and loud.
Navi's figure trembled with unseen unease and fear, her fingers clenched. "Don't... touch me," she said, her voice shaking. Her breath uneven.
"Oh no, we just want to talk," one of the men spoke, slurring.
She tried to dart past them, but one grabbed her arm.
She tried to scream but couldn't. Her blood flow increased because of fear. She stood frozen, her chest rising and falling with frantic breaths.
She looked around. The city didn't stop for her — the lights still glowed and people still walked past.
While somewhere far away, atop a hill shrouded in mist and lightning, rose a fortress of jagged stone and ancient curses.
It sat unwavering in a storm, its tall towers reaching the dark clouds above like claws.
Inside, the hall that stretched long was colder and darker than the stormy night outside, the ceiling above lost in shadows of time.
The second floor, stretched like an arc over the wide hall, had nine thrones lined inside the arc — one of them at the center, taller than all the rest. Eight of them were occupied, each figure sitting upon the throne clad in thick shadows and an eerie aura that radiated malice.
Each of them watched from their places like nobles watching a fight inside a cage.
And in the great hall, in a pool of fresh blood, stood a figure — long white hair and a suffocating crimson gaze. Gillian stood tall, unwavering.
Blood dripped from his sword, slow and rhythmic, falling into the pool below like drops in still water. Beside him lay a mangled, unrecognizable body, broken beyond comprehension.
One of the figures stood. "How... how is this possible? He was the third strongest here."
"He challenged me on his own accord," Gillian replied, his voice flat and cold. "He lost because he was foolish. Couldn't comprehend the power of the enemy he was going against."
His clothes were torn at places, revealing an antique physique and visible wounds, which seemed to heal on their own. His face was calm — too calm for a human standing in such a situation.
The silence stretched.
Then the figure on the central throne rose, his dark, sinister aura sharper than the rest.
"You are strong, Gillian Fredrik," they spoke. "You have earned your place by defeating the one who challenged you," the voice echoed through the chamber, high with authority.
"I welcome you in place of Gluttony as the third place in the Crescent Order," they declared.
Another soft laugh echoed through the chamber — a female — her voice soft like silk but laced with poison. "Oh my... so handsome," she purred. "Would you spare a night with me, Gillian dear?"
Gillian said nothing. His eyes darted toward her for a moment, then returned to stillness.
"I will do things my way. I am not bound by any of you," he declared, turning around. Jerking off the blood from his sword, he left with those words.