The walk to the Twilight Dueling Arena felt like a death row march. Henry could feel every stare from the other students, their whispers following him like dead leaves in the wind. News of his "mishap" in class had spread like wildfire. He wasn't just the mysterious new kid anymore; he was the unstable monster.
The arena was a massive, open-air stone circle, surrounded by humming, crystalline spires designed to measure magical output. Master Kael stood beside Headmistress Zanara, their faces a mixture of clinical curiosity and apprehension.
"Mr. Henry, please take your position in the center," Headmistress Zanara said, her formal voice barely hiding the academic excitement in her violet eyes. "Just relax. Let the energy flow naturally. The crystals will record everything."
"This is going to be fun," Tsukuyomi giggled in his mind, her presence a weirdly comforting cold spot against his panic.
The last sliver of sun vanished below the horizon. For a heartbeat, there was a suspended silence. Then, the temperature in the arena plummeted.
A sudden, crushing pressure descended on everyone, an aura so thick and predatory it made the diagnostic crystals whine erratically before cracking, one by one, showering the stone floor with glittering dust. Master Kael and Headmistress Zanara took an instinctive step back.
Henry's white hair bled into a deep, starless black. When he lifted his head, his eyes glowed with a malevolent crimson light. A slow, arrogant smirk spread across his lips.
"So," the new Henry said, his voice a smooth, dangerous baritone that echoed in the sudden chill. "This is the famous 'diagnostic'? I have to say, I'm a bit underwhelmed. I was expecting more... fireworks." He glanced at the shattered crystals. "Oh, dear. I think I broke your toys. You really should invest in better equipment if you plan on poking things you don't understand."
"Your aura..." Master Kael whispered, his smoke-hands twitching nervously. "It's pure entropy. It's not just an affinity for shadow; it's darkness itself."
"Ten points for the smoke professor," Henry mocked, giving a sarcastic bow. "And the headmistress? What does your profound wisdom deduce from this little transformation?"
Headmistress Zanara regained her composure, her expression hardening. "You are the nocturnal manifestation. The personality Joseph warned us about. You are under the authority of Aegis Academy. I suggest you cooperate."
Henry laughed, a cold, humorless sound. "Cooperate? You think you're in control, but..." He started walking toward them, and with each step, his aura intensified, a palpable wave of cold and menace that made Zanara and Kael flinch.
"That's enough!" Zanara yelled, raising a polished wand. A shimmering missile of pure magic shot from its tip. "You will be detained!"
The missile flew toward Henry. He simply slapped it out of the air with the back of his hand. The spell didn't explode; it fizzled, burrowing into the stone floor before erupting harmlessly into the sky far behind him.
"W-what?" Zanara stammered, her composure finally cracking. "T-that's not possible! That was supposed to contain your magical powers!"
"Is that your best threat?" Henry tilted his head, the smirk widening. "How about a counter-offer?" He stopped, and the shadows on the arena floor writhed. They shot up, not as tentacles, but as razor-sharp claws, meters long, aimed directly at the two professors. "How about I teach you a lesson about what happens when you poke the dark?"
He lunged forward. Master Kael grabbed his wand to blink away, but the shadow-claws were faster, almost upon them when a blinding light flooded the arena. It was so intense, so absolute, that Henry's shadow constructs turned to dust. He cried out, dropping to his knees as the light weakened him.
From the sky, a woman descended as if walking down an invisible set of stairs, small motes of light appearing with every step she took. She wore immaculate white robes trimmed with intricate gold thread. On her chest, a symbol glowed with its own power: a radiant sun.
"That is enough, child," the woman's voice was calm, but it resonated with a power that made the very air vibrate.
Henry froze, snarling at the newcomer. The light she gave off was physically painful, searing his skin like acid.
The woman ignored his death glare. She raised a hand. In her palm, a sphere of golden plasma formed, a miniature, newborn star. With a gentle flick, she sent it high above the arena. The tiny sun erupted in a silent flare, bathing everything in a convincing, relentless daylight.
For the nocturnal Henry, it was agony. He screamed, an inhuman sound of rage and pain, as the light forcibly reversed the transformation. He collapsed onto the stone floor, unconscious in his white-haired form.
The woman in white finally reached the ground. She looked at the unconscious boy, then at the two stunned professors.
"Headmistress Zanara, Master Kael," she said, her voice flat and cold. "You were informed he was a special case. What, exactly, made you think a 'diagnostic' at twilight was a good idea?" Her eyes, as golden as the sun she had made, shone with disapproval. She crossed her arms, waiting for an answer they didn't have. "From now on, the case of student Henry is under my jurisdiction. The jurisdiction of the Solari Clan."