The grand assembly hall of Nevermore was alive with candlelight. Black chandeliers hung overhead, dripping wax like tears. Rows of students in indigo-and-black striped blazers filled the benches, their purple-crested uniforms gleaming faintly in the firelight. The atmosphere hummed with whispers and suppressed laughter, like every new year before.
And then the doors opened.
Justin stepped inside.
The white of his suit caught every flicker of candlelight, blindingly stark against the sea of indigo and black. His pale hair brushed just above his brow, his glasses gleaming, abyssal eyes burning faint rings of fire behind the glass. At his throat, clipped neatly at the top of his tie, the silver crest of Nevermore glinted like a deliberate statement: I belong here, but only because I allow it.
The hall fell silent.
Students turned, stared, whispered.
That's him…
The Nightwalker boy…
He's real…
Enid Sinclair froze mid-whisper to Yoko. Her bright blue eyes went wide as soon as they landed on Justin. She felt it — the snap inside her chest, sharp and undeniable. The Imprint. Her breath caught, heart hammering like she'd run a mile. She barely heard Yoko asking what was wrong. Her soul had already answered: him. It's him.
Across the hall, Bianca Barclay leaned back in her seat, lips curling in a sharp smile. Her siren eyes swept Justin up and down. "So this is the infamous Nightwalker." She whispered to Kent beside her, though loud enough for others to hear. "Not bad. Let's see if he sinks or swims."
Xavier Thorpe sat straighter, recognition flashing across his face. A smile tugged at his lips — relief, even pride. His childhood friend had arrived.
Ajax tugged his beanie nervously, whispering to another gorgon, "He doesn't even need the uniform. Look at him. Dude's like… a boss fight on legs."
Eugene clutched his bee pin nervously, whispering to himself, "Cool. Terrifying. But cool."
At the front of the hall, Principal Weems rose, her towering presence commanding the room. Her smile was crisp, elegant, political. "Students. Welcome to a new year at Nevermore Academy. A school of history, of legacy, of excellence."
She gestured grandly, sweeping the candlelit hall. "Some of you are returning, others new. But all of you share one truth: here, you are seen, you are valued, you are safe."
The words rang hollow to anyone who knew better.
Marilyn Thornhill stood off to the side of the dais, smiling warmly, red hair gleaming in the candlelight. But her eyes — too sharp, too lingering — followed Justin as he crossed the aisle to take a seat. She felt it instantly: the pull, the weight, the aura that made her chest tighten. Mammon's son. Her hands tightened around her clipboard, nails biting the wood. Focus. Not him. Not now.
Justin walked unhurriedly down the aisle. Students parted instinctively, creating a path without being asked. His footsteps echoed on the stone floor, louder in the silence than they should have been.
Weems's eyes flicked toward him as she continued. "We pride ourselves on tradition, though some rituals have been modernized. The Founder's Pyre is gone. But tonight, you stand at the start of your story here, and we will ensure that story is glorious."
Her gaze lingered on Justin for just a moment too long. She adjusted smoothly. "Now… let us begin."
The students clapped politely. The sound was hollow. Their eyes were still on Justin.
He slid into a seat beside Xavier, who grinned at him like no time had passed. "You couldn't just show up quietly, huh?"
Justin smirked faintly, adjusting his glasses. "Wasn't my choice." His gaze swept the hall, calm and heavy. "They're the ones staring."
Xavier chuckled. "Yeah. They'll be staring all year."
From across the room, Enid's eyes hadn't left him. Her heart thundered. Her wolf — the wolf she swore wasn't even inside her — stirred restlessly, recognizing what she couldn't yet put into words.
Marilyn Thornhill forced herself to smile brighter, clapping with the rest. But her mind burned. She had seen many students walk these halls. But none like him. None who carried that blood.
And in the quiet corners of the hall, whispers spread like wildfire.
The prince of greed walks among us.
And deep in Justin's mind, Mammon's voice purred with amusement.
"What is mine will always be mine."