The world was made of chains.
They stretched endlessly in every direction, vast iron links suspended over a depth that had no bottom and no echo.
Some hung straight, others curved and overlapped, forming narrow paths and fragile platforms where balance mattered more than strength.
The chains moved slowly.
Only the slow groan of metal shifting against metal.
On one such crossing of chains, a small dog paced.
Its claws scraped softly against the surface, the sound repeating again and again as it walked in circles.
A faint collar of string rested around its neck, loose and weightless, serving no clear purpose.
The animal wandered without direction, pausing sometimes to sniff the empty air, ears twitching toward movements that never revealed themselves.
Slowly the steps began to slow down and once high tailed lowered.... He was Hungry.
One day, a small piece of food landed on the chain nearby.
The sharp sound startled the dog into stillness. It approached carefully.
After a long hesitation, it swallowed the food quickly, almost guiltily.
The same thing happened the next day.
The same sound. The same place.
The dog came sooner this time, anticipation replacing fear. Its tail moved cautiously, unsure whether happiness was safe.
Days passed.
Eventually, the dog began waiting before the sound arrived. It sat facing the empty space where food usually appeared, body stiff with hope it tried to hide. When the food finally fell, relief made its legs tremble.
Then the timing changed.
The sound came later than expected. The dog remained seated, tail wagging at every distant shift of the chains, stopping each time nothing followed. When food finally arrived, it devoured it without hesitation.
The delays grew longer.
The dog waited. Hunger forced it to pace, but it always returned to the same spot, afraid absence might mean failure. When food came, it whimpered softly before eating.
Some days the food arrived early, startling the dog awake in panic. Other days it came so late the animal trembled from weakness. Once, it arrived twice, leaving the dog staring at the empty space afterward, uncertain which moment had been correct.
Slowly, the dog stopped exploring the chains.
One day, the sound never came.
The dog waited politely.
Hours passed. Its body shook with exhaustion, but it did not leave. Its tail moved slowly against the metal, conserving strength. Its eyes remained fixed on the empty space where food had always fallen.
There was no anger in its gaze.
Only patience.
Around it, the chains continued their endless shifting, indifferent, as the dog waited for a pattern that no longer existed.
Slowly dog's innocent eye turned sharp and cold.
***
"That is all for today. Next, follow the instructions sent to your communicators to find your assigned dormitory. Once settled, you may proceed to the cafeteria for some late supper. There will be a round of interviews after that, to prepare your suggested curriculums. Get a good night's rest. Your training starts tomorrow."
The announcement ended, and conversation immediately filled the hall as people began gathering their belongings and forming groups.
Ayanokouji remained seated for a moment longer.
The academy was moving quickly. Ayanokouji noticed that too much information was compressed into too little time.
Most people would adapt simply by following the flow.
Ayanokouji preferred understanding structure before participating in it.
There were gaps everywhere. Social hierarchies were already forming, subtle but unmistakable. Certain students recognized one another, exchanging quiet remarks that carried familiarity he did not share. This hall was evidently filled with individuals of importance, though the reason remained unclear to him.
That would change soon enough. Before the solstice arrived, he intended to study everything the academy allowed access to. History, factions, internal conflicts, precedents.
Movement beside him drew his attention.
The quiet girl rose carefully from her seat.
Her posture was upright, almost refined, yet her hand lingered against the bench just a moment longer than necessary before she stepped forward. She moved with restraint, measuring space through balance.
Blindness had made her life really hard.
Somewhere along the way, she had learned this through repetition rather than instruction.
Tables appeared where memory insisted there was empty space.
Corners struck shoulders without warning.
Stairs punished misplaced trust.
Each mistake left behind small lessons written in bruises no one else noticed.
At first there must have been resistance, the stubborn belief that things would become normal again.
That belief rarely survived long.
Eventually frustration softened into quiet endurance, and endurance into a careful acceptance that the world would not slow down for her.
She no longer reached outward expecting help. Her movements carried the self contained discipline of someone who had already decided that inconvenience belonged to her alone.
She walked directly toward a table.
Ayanokouji stood and followed. Just before she collided with it, he tapped the tabletop once.
The sound rang clearly through the surrounding noise.
She startled slightly. "Ah- yes?" she asked, turning toward the sound, her voice gentle and composed despite the surprise.
He stepped ahead and tapped the next obstacle. Then another. A steady rhythm formed, shaping a path through sound alone.
She paused, listening.
Understanding arrived quietly. Her shoulders eased, and a small, careful smile appeared.
"Oh..." she said softly. "You're guiding me."
She adjusted her direction immediately, following the absence between sounds rather than the sounds themselves.
"Thank you," she added. "I hope I'm not troubling you."
Ayanokouji continued walking without reply.
Behind them, Sunless watched the exchange with growing disbelief.
He folded his arms, staring as if witnessing something fundamentally incorrect about reality... As his expression slowly darken, He was trying to Understand what Kiyotaka was trying to accomplish.
Ayanokouji glanced back once and pointed toward his abandoned seat.
Sunless frowned but walked over anyway. A folded paper rested there. He picked it up and read.
|Let's meet after the interview.|
Sunless exhaled slowly through his nose.
Without giving out a reaction he started heading toward the dorms.
Meanwhile, the girl walked beside Ayanokouji, her steps cautious but gradually less tense. One hand remained slightly raised, not searching blindly, only prepared in case certainty failed her.
Each tap allowed her to adjust smoothly, learning his rhythm faster than expected.
"You're very considerate," she said after a while. "Most people only notice after I bump into something."
Kindness, in her life, often arrived late. After embarrassment had already settled in.
After apologies she felt obligated to give even when accidents were unavoidable.
They turned into a corridor where footsteps echoed against high walls. Passing students slowed briefly, their gazes lingering on Ayanokouji before sliding away, unsettled by what they could not interpret.
The girl sensed the shift immediately.
"...Are people staring?" she asked, her voice lowered slightly.
Ayanokouji tapped the nearby wall once.
A soft laugh escaped her, faintly embarrassed. "I thought so."
There was acceptance in the sound rather than discomfort.
They reached a staircase. Ayanokouji tapped the first step and then the railing.
She stopped at once, listening carefully before nodding to herself. Her hand found the railing with practiced precision.
"Thank you," she said again, more softly. "I still need a moment with stairs."
She descended slowly, counting under her breath, each step slow. The habit was not fear but prevention, a method learned after trusting too quickly and paying for it with gravity and pain.
Ayanokouji matched her pace without hesitation.
"You don't have to walk this slowly for me," she said politely midway down. "I'll manage."
Yet she did not ask him to leave.
At the bottom, her shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, as though tension she no longer noticed had briefly loosened. She turned toward where she sensed him standing.
"...I'm really grateful," she said. "You didn't even know I needed help."
The sincerity in her voice lingered longer than the words themselves.
Behind them, Sunless arrived and stopped just blaming his luck. "This is ridiculous," He didn't wanted to meet them so soon.
Ahead, the corridor stretched calmly, evening light filtering through tall windows.
The steady rhythm of tapping continued as Ayanokouji guided the girl forward, each sound replacing uncertainty with direction.
For once, her steps carried less anticipation of collision, less readiness for sudden correction.... And a believe that she might not feel pain today.
As Ayanokouji tapped the door assigned to her, he stepped back immediately, his heel sliding lightly against the floor to make his distance clear.
The girl released a quiet breath she had not realized she was holding. Relief softened her shoulders.
"Thank you... for bringing me here," she said gently, turning toward where she sensed him standing.
She was looking to her right when he was standing to her left... But, That's just minor detail.
There was warmth in her voice, but also hesitation, as if she were deciding whether she was allowed to ask what came next.
After a moment, she spoke again, more carefully.
"Is... your Flaw related to speech?"
Ayanokouji remained still for a second before tapping the wall twice.
No.
She tilted her head slightly, confusion touching her expression. Silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable, only uncertain.
"...Then," she asked, her voice lowering, "are you... not talking because of me?"
The question came out quickly at the end, edged with nervousness she tried to hide. Someone accustomed to being an inconvenience learned to assume responsibility for silence.
Ayanokouji tapped twice again.
No.
Her shoulders eased, though embarrassment followed almost immediately. She clasped her hands together lightly.
"Oh... I see. I'm sorry. That was a strange thing to ask."
A brief pause passed before she gathered the courage to continue.
"Is it... something else, then?"
Ayanokouji lifted his hand and tapped the wall seven times, evenly spaced.
She listened closely, counting without meaning to.
One. Two. Three.
Her brows knit faintly as the taps continued.
Seven.
Whether she understood or not remained unclear. She did not ask for clarification. Instead, she nodded slowly, as if accepting an answer she might understand later.
"...I hope it gets easier," she said softly.
The words were simple, spoken without curiosity or intrusion, only quiet kindness.
Ayanokouji turned and began walking away. His footsteps were heavier than before, echoing down the corridor as distance grew between them.
***
Ayanokouji stepped into his assigned dormitory and closed the door behind him.
The room was simple and carefully arranged. A bed rested in the corner, with a table and dresser placed beside it in practical alignment. A few steps farther in, a bathroom door stood slightly ajar.
It was nothing in front of the dorm he was assigned in ANHS.... But, Ayanokouji wasn't picky in such stuff.
Across the outer wall, a wide panel displayed the image of a snowy park.
Several sets of clothes bearing the Academy emblem had been folded neatly and left for him.
Ayanokouji began examining the room without hesitation. He checked beneath the bed, ran his fingers along the edges of the table, opened drawers, inspected hinges, vents, and corners where devices could be hidden.
Nothing revealed itself.
He stood still for a moment, eyes lingering on the artificial window while his thoughts continued moving beneath the surface, connecting small observations into patterns not yet complete.
Without sitting down or allowing himself rest, Ayanokouji turned and left the room again.
***
Ayanokouji left his dormitory and began walking without a clear destination.
The residential corridor opened into wider passages that connected the sleeper section together.
Identical doors lined the walls, each hiding a private living space prepared for someone expected to sleep more than live. Some rooms opened briefly as students entered, revealing glimpses of living areas.
He did not slow.
The medical center appeared farther ahead, separated by thicker doors and quieter lighting. The interior resembled a shrine more than a hospital. White surfaces reflected soft illumination, and rows of advanced equipment.
Ayanokouji watched for a second before continuing to move.
Outside corridors connected to open paths bordered by small parks. Artificial grass and carefully arranged trees softened the otherwise reinforced structure.
Beyond them stretched training fields.
Wide grounds extended under open sky, marked for combat drills and survival exercises. Classrooms stood nearby, practical buildings.
The cafeteria lay along the main route back toward the residential block. Automated stations distributed meals efficiently while students gathered in uncertain groups.
They were present everywhere.
He walked past an area different than the rest of the facility. Through tall windows, natural wood furniture softened the interior of a staff lounge where instructors spoke quietly among themselves.
Farther out, the outer wall became visible through reinforced glass corridors.
Ayanokouji stood there briefly.
Students continued moving behind him, unaware of how controlled their paths truly were. Every section connected cleanly into another, guiding movement without forcing it, allowing freedom that remained carefully contained.
He turned away and resumed walking.
His pace remained unhurried, yet his route never repeated unnecessarily. Corridors, exits, open grounds, and monitored spaces arranged themselves quietly into order as he moved through them, each observation settling into place without comment.
Soon Ayanokouji found a library too and checked it out.
Conclusion... Security was everywhere yet what he planned was possible.
***
Soon enough, Ayanokouji found himself seated across from an administrative worker.
The man greeted him with a calm, professional smile that did not falter even after properly registering Ayanokouji's appearance.
The worker pointed toward his own ears, raising his brows in question.
Can you hear?
Ayanokouji waved his hand lightly from side to side.
No.
The worker paused, reconsidered something internally, then nodded as if adjusting an invisible checklist. He took two notebooks and two pens, sliding one set across the table.
They began.
The worker wrote carefully.
|Would you mind telling me what type of Aspect Ability you received? Combat, sorcery, or utility?|
Ayanokouji stared at the question for a moment. Then he picked up the pen and began to write.
The pen snapped in half.
Both of them looked down at it.
Ayanokouji examined the broken pen calmly.
The worker blinked once, then silently handed him another.
Ayanokouji tried again.
The second pen broke too.
This time the worker's smile tightened slightly, the expression of a man reconsidering several life choices at once.
He slowly retrieved the remains, inhaled, and wrote again.
|If your ability is combat related, please nod.|
Ayanokouji shook his head.
|Sorcery?|
Another shake.
The worker hesitated before writing the final option.
|Utility.|
Ayanokouji shook his head again.
The worker stared at him.
Ayanokouji stared back.
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, the worker wrote, slower this time.
|Do you… not know what your ability does?|
Ayanokouji nodded innocently.
Up close, his eyes trembled slightly, unfocused in a way that suggested nervousness.
The worker watched it for several seconds, visibly trying to decide whether this was tragic, concerning, or paperwork-heavy.
He sighed. Loudly.
Very loudly.
The next questions became progressively simpler.
|That's alright. Are you able to directly deal damage with your Ability?|
Ayanokouji tilted his hand uncertainly.
|…Can you buff something?|
A small shake.
|Do you intend to survive?|
A pause.
Then a polite nod... Multiple nods.
The worker leaned back in his chair, staring briefly at the ceiling like a man silently asking higher powers for patience. Eventually, he returned to writing, professionalism stubbornly intact as the interview continued in increasingly defeated silence.
***
The interview went smoothly.
As Kiyotaka stepped out, he paused inside the cafeteria, now mostly dark with only a few students lingering over late meals.
He sat at one of the empty tables and waited.
Sunless arrived several minutes later. He noticed Kiyotaka immediately but said nothing, simply walking toward him with his usual careless posture.
Kiyotaka stood the moment their eyes met and turned toward the dormitories without a word.
Neither of them spoke until the dorm door closed behind them.
Sunless dropped onto the bed as if he had already claimed it, leaning back slightly while watching Kiyotaka stand against the wall.
"So," he said at last, voice calm but edged with interest, "what's your plan?"
Kiyotaka didn't answer verbally. Instead, he raised his palm and the [Divine Ledger] appeared, its surface filling with written thoughts as observations formed into clear records.
Lines described corridors, camera placements, behavioral patterns, and the interview itself.
Sunless leaned forward despite himself and placed a finger on the Ledger the same way he had seen Jet do before.
Information flowed.
He watched Kiyotaka walk every corridor, pause at every intersection, notice details most people ignored. The interview replayed next, awkward questions written in overly formal sentences that no normal person would bother writing during real conversation.
When the memory ended, a quiet laugh escaped Sunless.
It wasn't amusement alone. There was disbelief in it, and something heavier underneath.
"Yeah," he muttered, shaking his head slightly. "They asked me the same things."
His gaze lingered on the fading text.
For the first time, he had seen how Kiyotaka's mind worked from the inside.
It never rested.
every interaction a piece placed somewhere unseen. Sunless had survived by instinct, lies, and adapting faster than danger could catch him, but this was different.
Sunless usually only begins his planning once situation calls for, But By reading Kiyotaka brain he felt exactly different... Like...
Kiyotaka was the one making situations to begin with.
"I get the scouting," he said, voice steadier now. "But you didn't walk all that just to admire architecture. So what are you really planning?"
Kiyotaka tapped the notebook resting nearby. Words appeared slowly.
|Let's hack into the interview data.|
The faint humor disappeared from Sunless's face. Silence stretched between them as the weight of the idea settled in.
Getting caught wouldn't mean a warning.
Jet's words surfaced in his memory without invitation.
It's not personal. It's a system.
Sunless stared at the writing for several seconds.
He exhaled slowly.
All his life, systems like this had turned people like him into prey. Weak ones disappeared.
Careless ones died. Smart ones survived just long enough to become tools for someone stronger.
He wasn't sure, It was a academy for a reason can just two of them really do it....
But then he thought, Because it's only two of them... They can do it.
Treacherous Lost from Light and a freak.
then smiled faintly, though there was no warmth in it.
"A system, huh…" he murmured. "It should still be a system even if it's upside down."
His eyes lifted toward Kiyotaka.
"How do I know this isn't a trap?"
Kiyotaka seemed to expect the question. He raised his hand slightly, and three chains appeared in the air.
Sunless straightened instantly, his shadow shifting beside him on instinct.
"Is… that your Aspect Ability?"
Kiyotaka nodded.
He raised two fingers and spread them apart. Two chains extended forward, connecting their souls before Sunless could fully react. Runes unfolded in front of his eyes, forming words he somehow understood without reading.
[Fate, bear witness to this moment.
Mark the path we choose to walk.
Let intent be carved where lies cannot follow.
Let memory hold what words cannot deny.
If one turns against the thread once woven, Stand not silent nor afar.
Claim the breaker without mercy,
And leave the design to the one who remained.]
Sunless instinctively stepped back as more runes appeared.
[If you agree to make this Binding Vow, Say I vow.]
Cold air slipped into his lungs. For a brief moment, instinct screamed at him to refuse. Binding himself to someone he barely knew went against every survival rule he had learned.
But another thought followed quietly.
His voice came out low.
"I vow."
Chains tightened gently around both souls as new runes manifested before his eyes.
[[[[[[[Bindling Vow]]]]]]]
[Hearken.
Before threads may entwine and destiny be written, the holder of this sacred Memory must lift their voice in chant. Not to command.
But to acknowledge.
For Fate is not summoned by silence. It is stirred by invocation.
Let the words be offered as incense to the unseen loom. Let intent be laid bare. Only when the chant is spoken and accepted by all who stand within the circle shall the strands descend, luminous and unseen, ready to bind.
***
[Those Who Step Before the Loom]:
?
?
?
***
[The Measure of the Thread]:
This covenant shall endure not by days nor by seasons, but by purpose.
So long as the named intent remains incomplete, the threads shall hold. When the condition carved into the vow is fulfilled, or when all bound wills release it as one, the weave shall loosen and dissolve.
Until that hour, it shall not fade.
***
[The Sacred Equilibrium]:
A Binding Vow is not a bargain of convenience. It is an offering laid upon balanced scales.
No oath may trespass upon a Flaw, nor tamper with an Innate ability, nor wash an Aspect clean of its ordained imperfection. Such transgressions are beyond mortal permission.
Each promise must mirror its counterpart. Each risk must find its equal.
If the scales tilt toward absurdity or greed, Fate will not weave.
Balance is the price of binding.
Equality is the door through which destiny consents.
***
[The Judgment of the Unseen]:
Fate stands witness.
When the vow is spoken and sealed, it is no longer sound. It becomes law etched into the marrow of existence. The threads that descend will coil about the souls of those bound, luminous and unbreakable.
Should one betray the vow, the threads will not fray. They will tighten.
The chains that once joined in union shall constrict in judgment. The bond that protected shall become the instrument of ruin.
For a Binding Vow cannot be broken.
It may only be fulfilled.
Or endured.]
Sunless read the runes and said "I Vow" again."
New runes surfaced in the air, brighter than before.
[[[[[[[Binding Vow]]]]]]]
[Those Who Step Before the Loom]:
Kiyotaka.
Sunless.
***
The third chain dissolved without sound, fading as if erased from existence itself.
Only two remained, stretched between their souls in silent confirmation that the vow required no more witnesses.
More symbols unfolded, forming lines that demanded definition rather than permission.
The vow required terms.
Thought alone was enough.
[The Measure of the Thread]:
Kiyotaka: Until we go into the Dream Realm.
Sunless: Until we go into the Dream Realm.
***
The chains tightened slightly, not painfully.
Another set of runes emerged, slower this time.
[The Sacred Equilibrium]:
Kiyotaka: I oath to not use this plan against Sunless.
Sunless: I oath to not use this plan against Kiyotaka.
***
For a brief moment, nothing happened.
Then the final rune appeared.
It did not ask for input.
It did not wait.
The letters carved themselves into existence with absolute authority, each word settling like a verdict already decided.
[The Judgment of the Unseen]:
Fate now stands witness to this vow.
If the Measure of the Thread is fulfilled, the chains will fade and release you both, their purpose complete.
But if the vow is broken, the chains will pass judgment themselves, tightening around the betrayer's soul until nothing remains. Fate does not forgive. It only enforces.
***
Ayanokouji woke early, After a quick shower, he changed into the clothes provided for him. The uniform fit perfectly.
He remembered the talk he had with Sunless last night, Their plan isn't a instant one, It has steps to it... First step begins today.
When he stepped into the corridor, conversations faltered almost immediately.
A faceless boy covered in scars walking calmly toward breakfast tended to disrupt morning peace.
Some students pretended not to stare. Others failed honestly. One girl nearly greeted a wall instead of her friend while watching him pass.
Ayanokouji continued walking as if none of it existed.
The cafeteria was already alive with noise. His eyes scanned once before settling on a familiar sight.
Sunless sat at a table with the quiet girl from yesterday. Every other seat nearby was occupied.
Ayanokouji approached and tapped the table twice.
She flinched before recognizing the sound, her expression softening immediately.
"Good morning," she said, smiling gently. "Please, sit."
He tapped once and took the seat.
"Thank you for helping me yesterday," she added.
Another single tap.
Across the table, Sunless watched this exchange like a man witnessing a conspiracy unfold in real time.
His gaze shifted from Ayanokouji's empty face to his own tray... Just to go back to Ayanokouji's mouth and back to his own food once again.
A smile escaped Sunless as he felt somewhat satisfied.
Ayanokouji staring at him just narrowed his eyes and looked away as Sunless continued smiling in satisfaction.
Ayanokouji looked behind the girl as he sees the social worker and narrowed his eyes further. They were almost closed.
Movement near the far wall drew attention as a large screen flickered to life. Students gathered quickly, curiosity overpowering dignity. Murmurs spread through the cafeteria.
"Rankings," someone whispered dramatically, as if announcing an execution.
Ayanokouji looked up.
Names filled the screen, ordered neatly from highest to lowest. Reactions followed instantly. Pride at the top. Despair in the middle. Existential crises near the bottom.
His gaze moved calmly downward.
Last place: Kiyotaka.
Second last: Cassie.
Third last: Sunless.
He stared for a moment.
Then slowly turned toward Sunless.
Sunless was already looking at him.
Ayanokouji tapped the table once in agreement.
Neither looked particularly disappointed.
If anything, both seemed mildly satisfied.
Across the cafeteria, students whispered about incompetence and poor performance while the two people in question sat calmly at breakfast, having deliberately buried themselves at the bottom.
Ayanokouji's gaze drifted upward again, scanning the top ranks until one name caught his attention.
Name: Nephis
True Name: Changing Star
He paused briefly.
Ayanokouji lowered his gaze again, as he gives himself a sarcastic remark.
'Oh no.... A true name, I wish I had one.'
Ayanokouji's first trial... Was.... Hmmm.... Well..... interesting i guess?
He wonders what Nightmare she had... If she wasn't just doing it for attention off course.
Ayanokouji slowly opened his eyes a little wider, the motion so slight that most would have missed it entirely.
Sunless didn't.
A faint discomfort stirred in him as an old memory resurfaced. Their first encounter returned uninvited.
Ayanokouji's attention drifted across the cafeteria. He was not looking at faces but at movement, at lips shaping conversations, at reactions spreading through the crowd like ripples. Surprise, admiration, resentment. Each emotion revealed itself without needing sound.
Certain figures drew longer pauses.
Caster stood among a group, but his focus was fixed not on the words True Name displayed above the rankings, only on a single name beneath it.
Nephis.
Ayanokouji noted the distinction without forming conclusions yet. The pattern was incomplete, though its outline was beginning to emerge.
He searched the room again and soon located her.
Nephis sat alone, drinking coffee in unhurried silence. The surrounding noise seemed unable to reach her table. She looked detached from the excitement around her, as though rankings meant little.
Then her gaze lifted.
It settled directly on him.
On his eyes.
She watched him calmly while taking another sip, neither curious nor hostile.
'Sharp perception' he noted silently.
He resumed reading conversations around him. Fragments drifted past.
"If getting a True Name was that easy, that freak from yesterday would have one too. 'Unseen Unknown.'"
Laughter followed.
Ayanokouji showed no reaction, though the corner of his vision lingered there a moment longer than necessary.
Across the cafeteria, the atmosphere shifted as Caster approached Nephis. Voices lowered instinctively.
"Lady Nephis. I am Caster from the Han Li clan. I see your trial went well?"
"It is what it is."
"I am glad you returned unharmed. Not that I doubted your abilities."
"Thank you."
A simple exchange, yet the room treated it like an event. Expectations gathered around them.
Ayanokouji observed quietly.
Not the words. The distance between them. The reactions of onlookers. Who watched openly. Who pretended not to. Who felt threatened. Who felt relieved.
Pieces moved without realizing they were moving.
Sunless noticed his attention lingering and frowned slightly, sensing calculation even if he could not see its shape.
Ayanokouji's gaze passed once more over Sunless, then Caster, then Nephis, each observation quiet.
He just watched nothing else....
Yet something subtle settled into place.
Like a thread drawn quietly through separate points, unseen by those it connected, tightening little by little with patient precision.
And none of them noticed when they had already become part of its design.
***
After leaving the cafeteria, the noise faded behind them, replaced by long corridors filled with students moving toward their assigned schedules.
Sunless walked beside Kiyotaka for a while before slowing slightly, studying him from the corner of his eye. There was something deliberate about the way Kiyotaka moved today.
As if every step already belonged to a decision made earlier.
Sunless tilted his head.
"You're going to the introductory combat class?"
Kiyotaka looked at him and gave a slow, confirming nod.
That only made Sunless more confused.
Combat? From him? After everything he had seen yesterday, it didn't fit neatly into any conclusion. Kiyotaka avoided attention too carefully to throw himself into something so visible. Either he was hiding poorly… or hiding something deeper.
Sunless opened his mouth, ready to ask another question, then stopped halfway.
He remembered yesterday. Trying to go against Kiyotaka's thinking had felt like chasing reflections in dark water. Every answer only created more questions, and none of them felt safe to hold onto.
Yeah. Not doing that when it's not directed at me.
He exhaled through his nose and lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug.
"Whatever. Have fun punching people, I guess."
Without waiting for a response, Sunless turned down another corridor leading toward the survival classes. His steps were casual, but his expression lingered somewhere between curiosity and unease.
Behind him, Kiyotaka continued forward alone, unhurried, blending into the stream of students heading toward the training grounds.
The introductory combat class was meant to teach basics.
Yet the quiet certainty in his pace suggested he wasn't going there to learn.
After all, today would likely be the last time he attended classes normally. They moved too slowly for his hunger for understanding. Once his plan began, there would be no need for him to chase knowledge or connections anymore.
Soon enough, they would come to him on their own.
***
As Sunless returned to the dorm after an exhausting survival class, he dropped onto his bed and let out a slow breath. His body wanted rest.
His shadow slowly detached himself.
It peeled away from him along the floor, stretching outward like a lazy animal forced awake.
His encounter with Kiyotaka refused to leave his thoughts.
That mental had been irritating in ways he still couldn't properly describe.
Since yesterday night, Sunless has been trying to learn new abilities of his shadow, but he couldn't. When he met Kiyotaka and went against him, he had figured out his shadow's ability through sheer hatred and desperation. He was trying to recreate that feeling.
Now, with the [Shrouded Puppeteer], mental interference was no longer hanging over his head like a guillotine.
The Spell called his shadow an invaluable helper.
Which meant he had been using it like a decorative rug.
"There's more you can do," he murmured.
The shadow slid across the dorm under his control, flattening, stretching, rising along surfaces before collapsing again.
Nothing new came.
He needed urgency again.
Sunless sighed. "God damn it."
The shadow slipped beneath the door and entered the corridor, flowing forward as he guided it through strips of darkness cast by overhead lights.
It paused briefly between the boys' and girls' bathrooms.
If he were to go in girls bathroom and get caught escape would be really urge-
"Yeah, No."
The shadow immediately fled the scene at impressive speed.
Sunless sat upright as a strange tingling spread through his limbs, his senses stretching thin between body and shade. The academy corridors unfolded before him through shifting darkness.
Then he accelerated.
The shadow leapt from one student's silhouette to another, skipping across moving feet and sliding along walls without breaking momentum.
It climbed a column in a spiral, dropped from a ceiling beam, then darted beneath a passing cart before launching forward again.
A staircase appeared ahead.
Instead of slowing, Sunless angled the shadow upward.
It ran along the vertical wall, crossed the railing as a thin smear of darkness, and dove straight through overlapping shadows cast by the upper lights, reappearing several meters ahead in a smooth jump that made his pulse spike.
"Oh," Sunless whispered, suddenly grinning. "That's new."
He pushed harder.
The shadow ricocheted between pillars, skimmed beneath benches, and snapped forward again, movement growing reckless yet precise. Each transition felt tighter.
For a brief moment, exhaustion vanished.
There was only motion.
Only improvement.
The combat dojo came into view ahead, its wide entrance spilling steady light into the corridor. The shadow slowed reluctantly, pooling near the doorway before settling into stillness.
As Sunless took a deep breath before going up again pushing himself even further.
The tangling in his limbs kept increasing, He knew he was really close to figuring out something.
Soon he reached the top and narrowed his eyes at what was happening.
***
There are two main reasons that I am here. Since this is just an introductory class, the Awakened rock will make us spar and do other exercises to assess our level.
After that, we will be divided into three levels, but that's not important.
Sunless and I have already planned a way to break into the staff room and get the data.
But before that, I had to do this. Just getting the data doesn't work if I don't know the potential of every single one of them.
So I decided to attend this class today. The Awakened rock is collecting data, and so am I.
I am making my own list of the people who are good and those who are bad. Such information will help me control the Dream Realm once the solstice comes. Currently, it's just a strength test. The real party will start once the sparring begins.
Most of the athletic ones are scoring between fourteen and sixteen. I myself got a score of thirteen.
How sad. I am so weak.
Oh, Nephis is going now. Hmmm, she didn't take a stance, and the punch she put momentum into was only half done. She doesn't seem to be using her Aspect either. Well, that is sad. I will have to get her information from the data after all.
She punched and scored sixteen. Impressive for that stance.
Right after Nephis, Caster made his appearance. He already seems to have all the Sleepers under his control, and he is from the Han Li clan, yet he referred to Nephis as "Lady."
It goes deeper than it looks. If everyone here already knows the Han Li clan, then they should have known Nephis too. I am sure it isn't just some really powerful clan hiding their daughter. If that were the case, she wouldn't have revealed her true name.
It goes deeper. I just need more information, which wouldn't be hard to get.
Today will be the first and last day I come to such a class.
…
Twenty-one…
Wow. I could barely follow his fist, even with three eyes open under my T-shirt.
So, a speed-related Aspect. Interesting.
Yet he is slower than Jet by quite a lot. I guess the gap between a Sleeper and an Ascended is just that much.
Only a few interesting ones are in this hall. Quite disappointing.
"Not bad. Now, we will move to sparring and evaluate your general level of training. I need two volunteers to begin."
Nephis was the first one to step into the center of the stage.
This is really interesting, but I doubt she is going to use her Aspect.
An extremely muscular guy followed her. This is going to be disappointing. He seems too high on his own pride, and when he punched earlier, his stance wasn't that good.
It will probably end in a second, only if Nephis is as strong as I think she is.
"The rules are simple. Make your opponent's back touch the floor or throw them out of the ring. Use whatever abilities and techniques you find appropriate."
As expected.
As soon as the fight started, the man rushed at Nephis and just kicked. That's the most obvious trajectory I have ever seen. It will end in a single redirection.
…
As expected, all Nephis did was redirect him and use his own momentum against him. Others just think that the more muscles you have, the more powerful you are.
...
Welp, that was a massacre. She just kept beating everyone with a single move. She had the intimidation factor too.
After taking the huge guy out, the others were already intimidated and hesitated with their moves, so it was really easy for her to keep doing it.
Uh, everyone is staring at me to go. Only Caster and I are left. As I sit with my face resting on my palm, everyone stares at me, happy that it's not their turn anymore. Caster himself glances toward me.
Well… that's interesting, I suppose.
The silence grows as time passes.
It was never mentioned that I can't go last, after all.
The one I am after right now isn't Nephis. I can go after her in the Dream Realm.
Caster, the only reason I am in this class is because of you. Go ahead and defeat Nephis. Since she won't be using her Aspect, and considering her fighting style and your speed, you will probably win fairly fast.
Show me, Caster, how good you are so I know what to expect from you.
Others have started to scream at me to go down first. It doesn't matter.
And just a second later, Caster looked at me, stood up, and walked down.
Slowly, I opened all the eyes hidden below my T shirt.
***
Caster is really fast. Even with most of my eyes open, he is still moving slightly faster than what feels natural to track. A normal person wouldn't even register the transition, one moment he's standing still, the next he's already crossed half the distance.
In a few milliseconds, he's in front of Nephis.
But she was ready.
Before the signal to begin had even fully settled, I noticed the faintest movement in her hand. She must have prepared something while watching him during the strength test.
Caster's fist drives straight toward her center. She pivots at the last instant, turning her torso just enough to shift the line of impact. The punch lands on her shoulder instead, and the force spins her slightly off balance.
He doesn't hesitate. Instead of pressing forward blindly, he vanishes from her front and reappears at her back, using speed to rewrite positioning.
Nephis squares her body as if preparing a counterattack toward where he had been.
Too simple.
The punch she appears ready to throw doesn't match her earlier restraint. Someone who fights that well doesn't suddenly commit to something so obvious.
It's bait.
Caster takes it.
He circles behind her and shifts his weight into a finishing strike, confident that she's reacting to outdated information. His momentum transfers fully into the punch.
That's when she changes.
The forward punch dissolves into something else entirely. With only a slight adjustment of her hips, she converts the stored motion into a sharp backward elbow.
The elbow cuts through the air toward his face.
Under normal conditions, he wouldn't be able to stop. He has already committed too much weight forward. Speed doesn't erase inertia.
But his speed isn't normal.
He bends just enough. The elbow grazes past by the smallest margin. The difference between impact and escape is almost negligible.
Now Nephis is the one extended.
Caster doesn't try anything elaborate. He disrupts her base with a quick hook of his leg and adds a controlled push. It's not overwhelming force that sends her down, just a precise exploitation of balance.
She falls.
He catches her before she hits the mat, reducing the impact.
The entire exchange lasts less than two seconds.
Nephis walked back to her seat as now everyone looks at me their eyes filled with laughter, Me not going before caster must have triggered them.
Now as I walk down all of them are mocking me and calling me a freak.
Soon I reached the center where caster just looks at me and smiles.
"I don't blame you for not stepping, It must have been hard."
And now I stood there everyone rooting against me.
***
There was a reason Ayanokouji didn't go down before Caster.
He needed Caster to interpret delay as fear.
A Legacy like Caster was conditioned to read delays as weakness. A fraction too slow to step forward, a fraction too late to answer a challenge those details shaped hierarchy.
By remaining still, by allowing others to move before him, Ayanokouji let that narrative form naturally.
Caster was underestimating him.
Why didn't Caster see through such deception? It actually didn't start here. No, Not at all.
The starting of this right here, Was the ranking. No one would go on a mind game with someone without Nose, Ear, Mouth and ranked last in the ranking.
Currently, Ayanokouji's plan was to survive for one second after the signal, take a hit cleanly, slide out of the circle. Make the fear convincing enough that even scrutiny would validate it.
To preserve the illusion, he intentionally closed most of his eyes. Only a few eyes remained active. If his gaze tracked too smoothly, too precisely, the lie would unravel. His eyes had to hesitate. They had to look human.
The signal came.
Caster disappeared.
'Now that he underestimates me, he won't begin with something layered. In his mind, I'm weak.'
Space warped in front of him as Caster materialized mid-punch, the strike already accelerated through hip rotation and forward drive.
Ayanokouji's eyes followed, slightly delayed.
But the real movement had happened earlier.
In the stillness before the signal, he had measured the invisible interval between anticipation and action. There is always a microscopic compression before motion, a coiling of intent. A millisecond before that threshold, he shifted his weight entirely to the right, loading his rear leg while keeping his upper body seemingly unprepared.
The punch cut through air.
Caster adapted instantly. The right arm retracted only enough to transition, and his body rotated again, tightening the angle to fire a second strike from the same side at closer range.
He noticed Ayanokouji's gaze settle on his right hand before the fist was fully formed.
...
So he changed the equation.
The right hand became bait. His hips snapped in the opposite direction, torque traveling through obliques into a compact left kick aimed at the ribs. The It was designed to break alignment rather than cause visible damage.
Ayanokouji's eyes never left the right fist.
His guard lifted left.
The kick met a prepared frame forearm aligned with ribcage, elbow tucked, weight grounded. Impact dispersed through structure instead of soft tissue.
The eyes were the bait.
Casters widened his eyes.
He began reviewing the sequence not as a series of reactions, but as a chain that might have been constructed in advance.
The ranking. The hesitation. The controlled tracking. Each detail aligned too cleanly to be coincidence.
He shifted strategy.
Against Nephis, he had attempted a rear engagement and nearly paid for it when her elbow cut into his advance. Repeating that exact pattern would be inefficient. Someone calculating would expect him to avoid that mistake.
Which meant that avoiding it could itself become predictable.
If Ayanokouji believed Caster would not attack from behind again, he would guard forward. If he believed Caster would reverse that expectation, he might prepare to turn.
The layers stacked.
Caster vanished once more.
He reappeared directly in front.
The decision was deliberate. Intelligent opponents often overcorrect, anticipating inversion. By choosing the obvious vector, he tested whether Ayanokouji was playing the same depth of game.
Ayanokouji did not turn.
Because he had never committed to the assumption of a rear attack.
This spar was a chess game, Ayanokouji had just premoved everything before it even began.
His gaze was already aligned with Caster's eyes the moment he materialized.
Caster felt the constriction then, Every tactical shift he introduced seemed to exist within parameters that had already been mapped.
His adjustments were real, but they did not expand the battlefield, they moved within it.
His punch was preloaded during transition, momentum carried forward by spatial displacement.
He committed fully.
He braced for the logical counter an intercept, a deflection, a redirection that would convert his forward drive against him.
Instead, Ayanokouji absorbed it.
No block.
The strike landed cleanly against his torso. Force transferred, driving him backward as his feet slid toward the boundary of the circle.
This duel was over.
***
This fight right here was the starting point of four plans Ayanokouji had set in motion. If he had failed this fight, three of those four plans would have had to change drastically.
His first plan was to develop connections without actively pursuing them himself. Right now, everyone must be seeing that he lost. But only those perceptive enough would notice that he had held back, that everything from his delayed movements to his last place rank had been intentional.
They would approach him, even when he was alone in the library, and try to bring him to their side. They would feel in control because they believed they were the ones initiating contact. They would never suspect that this approach had already been predicted.
The second plan involved the Dream Realm. It was going to use the first plan as its foundation.
The third plan involved the girl. Just like the second plan, it relied on the first plan as its base.
And the fourth plan concerned how he was going to collect interview data. This fight right here was its foundation.
Everything went according to Ayanokouji's plan. Now everything would be kick started as he began setting ideas into motion.
He felt relieved.
***
As the man who had fallen between Black and White through the waterfall finally made his decision, the world calmed.
The divide straightened, the ground returned beneath his feet. White to the right, Black to the left. The waterfall became a stream again.
He looked at the sky. It too was Black and White.
Now he had decided.
Many had died because of him. Even if he had not struck them down, they had perished because he existed.
He tried to remember the last time he had acted without calculation, without thought for the future, but no memory came. Everything he had done carried purpose, carried reason, and he had followed it without pause.
He no longer wanted to live that way.
He wanted mistakes, reckless mistakes that others his age made. He wanted to feel and act beyond thought, to stumble, to fail, to be human in ways he had never known.
He had never wanted to be a masterpiece. He had only been forced into it by the world.
As if testing some fragile hope, he turned his back to Black and stepped onto White.
It was ironic, shameless. So many had died because of him, so many had been broken into nightmares. And still he walked.
He took his first human decision... greed.
He might perish because darkness lived in his heart. He might survive. No one could say.
He walked, dissolving slowly into White, and for a moment he felt peace. It seemed to hold him, to carry him, to let him exist without judgment.
But it was too easy.
Black emerged like a living volcano, swelling and crawling, He tried to hold to White, to the warmth that had almost claimed him, but Black reached, twisted, dragged. It crawled through the light, dissolving it as it consumed him.
Fate always claimed what it was owed.
He could see it, even as it swallowed him, a cruel certainty threading through his vision. He could not escape. He could not resist.
This was the Fate.... And Fate always enforces.
And he was fated to be the bad guy.
***
And the fourth plan concerned how he was going to collect interview data. This fight right here was its foundation.
Everything went according to Ayanokouji's plan. Now everything would be kick started as he began setting ideas into motion.
He felt relieved.
Ayanokōji felt it before he understood it. A quiet, unfamiliar sensation crept into his chest, spreading slowly, Relief.
It made no sense. This was not a victory, not even a milestone worth acknowledging. It was just the start of four plans, nothing more.
So why did it feel like something had been completed?
The question echoed in his mind, growing louder, heavier, more suffocating with each passing second.
He tried to reject it, to suppress it the same way he had suppressed everything else his entire life, but the feeling refused to disappear. Instead, it deepened.
Relief turned into something else.
Something dangerously close to happiness.
His breath faltered. For the first time in a long while, his composure cracked. He tried to step back, to physically remove himself from the moment.
His foot moved, but his body felt wrong, disconnected, as though it no longer fully belonged to him. The circle beneath him seemed less like a boundary and more like a cage.
He tried to run from it, to struggle against whatever was happening inside him, but the attempt collapsed before it could even take form.
And then, he lost.
The happiness consumed him.
It hollowed him out, replacing something fundamental with something alien. He stood still, just at the edge of the circle.
Then his eyes began to open.
Not just once, not just normally, but again and again, as if something inside him demanded more sight, more awareness, more understanding than a human should ever possess.
Each eye trembled violently in its socket, darting in unnatural movements.
They looked at everything.
At every student in the room.
At the corners others avoided.
At the shadow that clung to the edges of the walls.
It was as if nothing could escape his gaze anymore. As if every detail, every movement, every breath was being etched into something permanent and unforgiving.
The class fell into silence.
These were only Sleepers, They were only trained to kill monsters... Not a monster in human skin.
A human was supposed to feel human.
What stood before them did not.
There was just a air around this Ayanokouji, Air.... That was absolute?
The eyes stared at everyone in a quick succession, Once it was on one row the next second other row, It never stopped.
Someone near the back let out a faint, broken breath, quickly stifled as if even that small sound felt like a mistake.
Those eyes filled like they were staring directly at your soul... Notmal sleepers were intimated, They shouldn't be, They were trained to fight monsters... But... They still were. They stayed silent.
Because every instinct told them that if they did, they would be noticed.
Ayanokouji's eyes continued to shake, more violently now, the motion growing unstable, almost desperate. They stared at individuals and at no one at all, Slowly, the white of his eyes began to redden, thin veins surfacing.
Tears formed, but they did not soften his expression. If anything, they made it worse.
Because even as his eyes filled with tears, something else appeared.
A smile.
within his gaze.
It was subtle at first, barely noticeable, but it grew steadily.
Caster was the first to react.
He had been watching standing there all this time, He didn't really feel scared of it, He just couldn't move because a lot of eyes just stared at him.
.
.
[.][Holy art by Arliet3298 (insta)]
.
.
Nephis, on the other hand, did not step back.
She stared.
Her expression remained calm, but there was a sharp focus in her eyes, an attempt to understand what she was witnessing rather than recoil from it.
She wanted to step forward.
To be at the center of it.
Ayanokouji tilted his head slowly, the motion unnatural in its stillness, as though his body had forgotten the normal rhythm of movement. His eyes, still trembling, still wide and red, fixed themselves onto Caster.
The smile within them deepened.
For a brief moment, the entire room felt like it stopped breathing altogether.
Then he began jumping on each one of his feet, Slowly getting used to the rythem.
That day, many of Ayanokouji's plans changed drastically.
*******
Man, were the first two chapters of Dramatic Irony boring? They were setup chapters, but I feel like they might have been too boring.
Okay, listen. You know everything needs a proper transformation to build aura. I'm only going to do something this long one more time, with an angry Kouji, and then I won't.
I know it was too long, but I couldn't just half ass it.
This scene took me hours!
Next chapter - Either Wednesday or Thursday.