The window above Asher's bunk was cracked. Just wide enough for cold air to bleed through.
He leaned forward, elbows on the steel sill, eyes locked across the courtyard. Thirty feet up—etched in obsidian above the archway into the processing tower—was the mural.
It stared back.
Once, it had shown a faceless god. Towering. Weapon raised. A spear of light plunging into a writhing serpent at its feet. He remembered it clearly.
But now…
The god was gone.The spear was gone.Only the serpent remained.
It coiled across the arch like it had eaten the others. Like it was watching. Waiting. Ready to cross some invisible line and slither into the Academy.
Its eyes shimmered faintly, almost wet in the early light. Alive.
Asher didn't blink. He just reached back and tapped the bunk's steel frame.
Ryvak stirred on the adjacent mattress. "What?"
Asher tilted his chin toward the window. "Look."
Ryvak rubbed his face, groggy. He followed Asher's gaze—and froze.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I saw it when we first got here. Freaked me out."
"What happened to the god? The spear?"
Ryvak hesitated. "Don't bring it up to anyone else… I asked another initiate about it the other day. He looked at me like I was nuts. Me. Nuts." He pointed at himself. "Not a chance."
Asher's voice dropped. "So why are we the only ones who can see it?"
Ryvak didn't answer.
Later that morning
Breakfast was the same: eggs, oatmeal, sausage.
Back in the dorm, free time stretched like an empty page. Instructors had told them to stay in the in-processing tower. Asher sat on the edge of Ryvak's bunk, staring at his hands.
Ryvak flopped down across from him. Rolled his shoulders. "You really wanna know what I can do?"
Asher raised a brow.
"They call it Flashbrand. No idea who names these things."
Asher cut in, "There's a guy in one of the northern fortresses. Classified every Void mutation and weakness. Some genius."
"Sounds about right." Ryvak grinned. "Anyway—my power? I can show people a false memory. Just flashes. Lasts a second or two. Wipes me out, though."
"What kind of flashes?"
"Well, for example… Brian, that dice-cheating bastard? Next time he tries to hustle someone, he'll see Warden Vei walking in wearing nothing but a towel."
Asher cracked a faint smile.
"I can mess with people like that. But again—only for a second. Then I'm drained for hours."
Asher leaned forward, voice lowering. "After they injected me... I could feel it reacting."
Ryvak's grin faded.
"The thing," Asher said. "IT."
He didn't have to explain.
"I saw a thread," he continued. "First time was on the nurse. I thought I was losing it. But it looked real. A dark string—from her shoulder to the door."
Ryvak leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. "Damn. That's... actually pretty good. Where are they now? Can you move them?"
Asher shrugged. "Haven't tried."
He closed his eyes. Focused.
And when they opened, the room shifted—just slightly.
Faint threads of Void energy stretched between everything. Bunk to floor. Wall to ceiling. One ran from Ryvak's chest to the wall behind him. They pulsed faintly. Invisible to anyone else.
Asher reached out. Pinched one.
It twitched. Then unraveled like smoke.
Ryvak jolted. "What was that?"
"It faded," Asher whispered. "Like it was never real."
"Creepy."
"Interesting."
Later
They were allowed to roam the lower halls.
Lunch wasn't for another hour. Asher wandered alone.
The tower was colder down here. Empty. His boots echoed along stone corridors. He passed a long stretch of polished armor—Void blacksteel, meant to reflect light back across the hall.
That's when he saw him.
A boy. Shaved head. Blank eyes. No House crest. Thin frame. Walking past the armor.
But the reflection was wrong.
It rippled.
Like the mirror couldn't hold him. Couldn't contain his existence.
Asher turned the corner—
Nothing. Just an empty hallway.
But a spiral glyph glowed faintly in the floorstone. It pulsed once… then faded.
Footsteps behind him. Ryvak skidded to a stop. "Did you see that kid?"
"Yeah," Asher muttered. "Either we're both going insane… or this place is."
Trial Two
They lined up under the arch again. The serpent still coiled above.
Still watching.
Sgt. Nix led the class into the next room—a dark chamber adjacent to the first trial.
Twelve chalk circles. Two rows of six. In each circle: a black steel chair, reinforced with obsidian and fitted with humming glyph restraints.
No one explained how they worked.
Warden Malvek Durn stood off to the side, one arm folded, the other—a massive Void-forged gauntlet—resting against a pillar. Glyphs pulsed inside its plating. He didn't blink.
"This will be your second trial," Nix called. The room quieted.
"The purpose of this trial is to determine House placement. Think of it as... self-reflection." He chuckled at his own pun.
"Each experience will differ based on who you are. Due to privacy laws, we won't see what you see. But we'll know the type of person you lean toward." Another chuckle.
Twelve names echoed. Asher's was among them.
He stepped forward. Sat down.
The moment his back hit the seat, the restraints snapped shut—binding him head to toe.
Four mirrors appeared.
From nowhere.
They formed a box around him. The others faded from view.
Asher stared into his own face. "Think good thoughts," he muttered.
Then silence dropped like a stone.
All senses muted.
He wasn't in one mirror.
He was in four.
His mind split—like he was living four lives at once.
Mirror OneHe wore jagged black armor, plated like an ancient samurai. Voidsteel gleamed. A katana made of bone and glass dripped blood from his hand.He felt invincible.Nothing in the worlds could stop him.
Mirror TwoHe was broken. Gaunt. A nobody. He had failed the Academy. Failed to find his brother. His Void Stone was gone. His eyes were dull. He lived in the outskirts—alone. Forgotten.
Mirror ThreeHe stood on a golden pedestal. Adorned in shining Empire armor. The crowd screamed his name. A hero. Respected. Chained to duty. Black mist wings unfurled from his back—beautiful, monstrous.
Mirror FourHe towered twelve feet tall.Four arms. Obsidian skin. His eyes were glowing voidglass. A god-killer. The resonance alone shattered something inside Asher's mind.
His Void Stone pulsed.
It wanted that.Craved it.
His spine burned.
He nearly broke.
Nearly.
Then—
"NOOOO! I WILL NOT!"
The last mirror cracked.
Light shattered. The others vanished.
Asher collapsed forward, coughing on stone. His restraints were in pieces. Smoke hissed from the glyphs.
The other initiates were still bound. Shaken. Breathing.
The whole trial had lasted... one second.
From the shadows, Warden Marik stepped into view. Arms folded behind his back. Silent. Thoughtful.
His gaze lingered on Asher.
He didn't speak.
But the pause was louder than words.
"Next."