(Nex's pov)
The door clicked shut behind me, muting the faint chatter from the hall. My shoulders loosened a little—it had been a long day, and all I wanted was silence.
That's when I saw it.
A long, narrow box sat neatly on the desk, its black paper wrapping untouched. A small label, written in clean, slanted handwriting, read:
To Nex.
For a moment, I just stood there. No one left things in my room unless it was important. I crossed the space in a few steps, set my headphones down, and lifted the package. The weight made my grip tighten—not heavy enough to be clumsy, but solid enough to promise something sharp inside.
I undid the latch.
Inside, a katana rested in a black lacquered sheath, the surface so polished it reflected my own face back at me. My fingers traced the smooth curve before I drew it a few inches. The steel caught the dim light, edges glowing faintly with a red tint, as if the blade had been tempered in blood and fire.
A folded note sat inside the lid. I pulled it free.
Hope you like it. —Sis.
It was just like her—brief, direct, but never without meaning.
I smiled, just a little. The kind of smile that didn't quite reach my eyes, but still felt… real. My hand closed around the hilt, the grip molding to my palm perfectly. I gave the blade a small turn; the red shimmer slid along the edge like a pulse.
It was beautiful. And dangerous.
Something in my gut told me this wasn't just a gift. It was a message. A promise.
I slid the katana back into its sheath, the sound soft and clean. Setting it beside my desk, I glanced at the note again before tucking it into my pocket.
Tonight, I'd sleep.
Tomorrow… I'd see what this blade could really do.
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(Nex's pov)
The pale light of dawn crept through the blinds when my eyes opened. No alarm. No dream. Just that heavy pull in my chest that wouldn't let me sleep any longer.
I pushed off the covers and headed for the shower. The cold water did its job, clearing the fog in my head—but it also brought back the memory I'd been trying to ignore.
The mission. Four days from now.
No extra surveillance. No reinforcements until it's too late.
Hundreds dead in the novel's timeline.
I could already see it playing out. The screams. The mindless puppets tearing through the unprepared. I'd read it once as words on a page. Now I was living in the chapter.
If the academy wanted to walk these kids into a slaughter, fine. But I wasn't going to watch it happen without doing something. Even if I had to tear the quiet of this place apart to force change.
By the time I stepped out, my mind was set.
I slipped into my uniform, adjusting the collar until it sat just right. My eyes drifted to the katana propped against the desk. I ran a thumb over the hilt before sliding it into my spatial pocket, the weight vanishing but the presence lingering in my mind.
Headphones around my neck, I opened the door.
Ryan was there—standing in the hallway, halfway through a chocolate bar, grinning like the world was simple and good.
"Morning!" he said, voice muffled by his mouthful of candy.
I gave him a small nod. "Morning, Ryan."
He didn't know it yet, but I'd make sure he'd still be smiling after that mission.
I slipped the headphones over my ears, the low hum of music starting up, and together we began the walk toward another day that everyone else thought was ordinary.
They had no idea what was coming.
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I dropped Ryan off at his class—1-F, the bottom rung. He waved at me before disappearing inside, still chewing on chocolate like it was the highlight of his morning.
The halls were louder than usual. First-years buzzing, swapping rumors, dragging their feet in groups. I kept my pace steady, head tilted down, music pouring into my ears—a slow, gritty phonk beat that drowned out the noise.
By the time I reached my own classroom, most seats were empty. I took the far back corner, slid into the chair, and let my hood shadow my eyes.
One by one, the room filled. Laughter. Footsteps. The clatter of bags hitting desks.
Then they arrived—Lucas, Aria, Kaelith, Marcus, Ruby and even Sylphie, They didn't even need to say anything. The air bent toward them, attention pulled like iron filings to a magnet. Voices lowered, glances lingered. This generation's golden circle.
I just kept my gaze on the desk, bass line thrumming in my ears.
The door clicked open again. Irene walked in, her steps sharp, posture flawless. Without so much as a warm-up, she dropped it:
"Three days from now, you'll all be deployed on your first field mission. Purpose: to build real-world combat experience."
The room erupted—half excitement, half nerves.
I didn't react. Not outwardly. Inside, gears were already turning.
Three days. That was less time than I'd hoped for. The mission was coming fast, and with it… the same chain of events I'd read about.
Casualties. Panic. The academy pretending it was all part of the learning curve.
If I wanted to change that, I'd have to start now. And it wouldn't be pretty.
While the others whispered about monsters and glory, I sat in the back, letting the music pulse like a war drum, my mind drawing the first lines of the plan.
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