Victoria smiles, but it doesn't touch her eyes. The look is empty. She nods once."Yea, basically what they said."
Zaria stares at her, disbelief all over her face. "What?" She gestures to the four year-fives as though they're particularly ugly furniture. "After we just got back you want us to fight them?"
For half a heartbeat Victoria's mask slips; I see a crack of annoyance between her brows. Then everything resets, perfect neutrality restored. "Our house is the smallest in the school. That being said, we can't have weaklings dragging us down. Proctor Julian may have seen something in you to choose you for the house, but he leaves the inner workings to us for the most part. If someone dies in training.." she shrugs lightly, "so be it."
Zaria's eyelid twitches. Her lips flatten until the color drains from them. It's the most emotion ive seen from her since she thought I had died. I watch it all with the kind of resignation I've had since stepping into this place. A break? Mercy? For them to say, "Good work today, get some rest"? No. This is the Academy. This is the Empire and we are their Elites. Their demi gods. Their property to train into killers.
But that's okay, I've long understood the type of world I live in. Have ever since I was an orphan in the outskirts. If I can, I'll kill them. Every single one of them. Not because it gets me anything. But outof spite. Out of pride. Because I refuse to kneel. Fuckers can't even let us relax for one day.
Dominic lifts his good hand, trying to cut in. "Is there at least—"
Brutus cuts him off before he can finish. The sound that comes out of him is half a grunt, half a growl. "Let's go. This is fucking tedious." he rolls his eyes in disgust.
Dominic shuts his mouth swallowing whatever he was going to say.
Aravind just shrugs. His shoulders rise and fall, easy, casual, but his eyes flicker between us like he's silently apologizing. I narrow my eyes at him and I swear I could hear exactly what he was saying with that shrug "Sorry, but this is how it is. Sorry, but I'm not stepping in."
Then Alexandra steps forward. Calm and measured. She walks to the far wall, where a huge stone slab stands with some kind of lever fixed into its face. She places her hand near it, turning her head slightly so we all see.
"This is an artifact that allows us to change the training room into a simulated environment," she says quietly.
"We will be transforming the room into a city. Inside the castle will be a flag. Your job is to retrieve it, and ours is to stop you." Her head tilts slightly, her mouth pulling at the corners but it was a crude attempt of a smile. "Simple, no?"
Lucain shakes his head. He looks like he wants to ask something; eyebrows furrowed, lips parting but before he can, Victoria waves her hand once, cutting him off.
"All you need to do is touch it."
Lucain freezes, taken aback. His eyes widen for a moment, and then his mouth shuts I can tell from his face that was exactly his question. Whether touching counted or if we needed to bring it somewhere. Now he has his answer.
Vihaan sneers, his voice dripping with impatience and contempt. "Alright, enough of this shit. Just start it already."
Brutus laughs a short, pleased bark then rolls his neck until the joints pop one by one. The sound echoes through the quiet hall. Ala's expression never changes. Aravind crosses his arms, waiting. Alexandra studies each of us the way a doctor might study test subjects, then grips the lever and pulls.
The slab groans, stone grinding against stone, and symbols flare to life across its surface. The floor shakes under my boots. The air feels thick, charged, like it's about to snap.
The walls ripple. What used to be stone stretches and bends, colors shifting. The ceiling flickers, then vanishes, replaced by endless black sky. The torchlight is gone, traded for dim lanterns that glow on crooked posts.
The ground under me changes. Smooth stone becomes uneven cobblestone, damp and slick like it rained earlier. Buildings rise around us, jagged and close, shadowed alleyways splitting between them. They look old, weathered, lived-in, but I know they're not real.
I glance up. A castle towers in the distance, massive and dark against the false horizon. Its highest spires cut into the black above like teeth.
The training hall is gone. In its place, a city. I stare in awe at the transformation happening around me, what type of fucking artifact is this?
I look again at the Castle in the distance and I exhale slowly clearing my emotions and thoughts. I recite the mantra that I've taken since fighting that monster. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.
I reach for the same feeling as before and I feel the wolf constellation buried in my soul orb stir, I see it in my mind move and growl low and guttural, and a snarl of joy and hunger rumbles through me. The voices press closer, their whispers rising, sliding into place as we once again join our collective wills together for the sole purpose of violence.
The crack in my soul orb throbs, the vile corruption festering just beneath the surface from where that bitch struck me. It waits, patient, eager to spread. I feel it pulsing there, but I shove it aside and ignore it. I don't care about it currently. My voices need hate.
And my hate is endless.
I draw on all my hate and anger, and the voices erupt. They howl triumph, wild and exultant. They are giddy.
Because I accept them.
Because I am them.
They whisper to me as our wills merge " Submission or death for all who live. In the end, it matters not"