The bell rang, a shrill cry that sliced through the silence of Class C. No one moved. Eyes remained locked on the man at the front of the room, the one they still couldn't quite believe was Professor Won. His presence was a weight, a black hole drawing in every whisper, every nervous glance, every heartbeat. The air itself seemed to bend around him, heavy with something ancient and unforgiving.
Kairn, still sprawled on the floor where his chair had vanished, clutched his bruised elbow. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by a pale, wide-eyed stare. The other students didn't dare laugh. Not anymore. The memory of that shimmer in the air, the way reality itself had unraveled to swallow Kairn's chair, lingered like a threat.
Won — or whatever he was now — leaned casually against the desk, one hand resting on his stack of books. His eyes, those endless voids, scanned the room with predatory calm. A faint smile played on his lips, not warm but sharp, like a blade catching light.
"Sit," he said.
Chairs scraped as students obeyed instantly, their movements jerky, instinctive. Even the most defiant among them — the fire-wielders, the frost-conjurers, the ones who'd spent two years tormenting him — sank into their seats without a word. A girl in the back, her fingers still sparking faintly with uncontrolled magic, dropped her gaze to her desk, her breath shallow.
Won straightened, his coat shifting like liquid shadow. "Good. Now, let's begin."
Before he could speak again, the classroom door slammed open.
Three figures stormed in, their Ashen crests glowing fiercely on their forearms. The silver-haired boy from the rooftop led them, his knife-sharp eyes narrowed with a mix of arrogance and unease. Behind him came a girl with frost curling from her fingertips and a stocky boy whose hands crackled with raw, electric energy. The trio who'd pushed Won to his death. The ones who'd laughed as he fell.
The silver-haired boy, Jace, froze mid-step. His smirk vanished as his gaze locked onto Won. The frost girl, Lila, gasped audibly, her hand flying to her mouth. The electric boy, Torren, took a step back, his sparks fizzling out.
"You," Jace breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're… you're supposed to be dead."
The classroom went stiller than a grave. Every student turned, eyes darting between the trio and the man at the front. Whispers hissed like sparks.
"Dead?" someone muttered. "What're they talking about?"
Won tilted his head, his smile growing colder, more dangerous. "Am I?" His voice was velvet, but it carried an edge that made the air feel brittle. "Come closer, Jace. Tell me what you saw."
Jace didn't move. His hands twitched, flames flickering briefly at his fingertips before dying out. "We… we saw you fall. From the rooftop. No one survives that."
Lila's voice trembled as she stepped forward, her frost spreading across the floor in nervous tendrils. "You were gone. We checked. There was nothing left. Nothing!"
Torren, usually the loudest of the three, stayed silent, his eyes wide with something close to terror.
Won stepped forward, his boots clicking against the floor. The sound was deliberate, each step a hammer striking an anvil. The trio flinched as he approached, stopping just close enough for them to feel the weight of his presence. The air around him shimmered faintly, like heat rising from pavement.
"You thought you killed me," Won said, his voice low, almost a purr. "You thought you could erase me. Like one of my papers. Like my tie." His smile vanished, and his eyes darkened, swallowing the light. "But you forgot something."
Jace swallowed hard, his bravado crumbling. "W-what?"
"Emptiness doesn't die."
The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Then, with a flick of Won's wrist, the world bent.
The floor beneath the trio vanished. Not crumbled, not cracked — simply gone, as if reality had been sliced away. They plummeted with screams, falling into a black void that pulsed with unnatural energy. The class gasped, chairs scraping as students leaped to their feet, some climbing onto desks to peer into the hole.
But it wasn't a hole. It was… nothing. A perfect absence of light, of matter, of existence.
A second later, the floor snapped back into place. Jace, Lila, and Torren reappeared, sprawled and gasping, their faces pale as death. The classroom erupted in chaos — shouts, gasps, a few nervous laughs. A girl near the back fainted, slumping onto her desk.
Won didn't blink. He stepped over Jace, who was still coughing on the floor, and returned to his desk. "Lesson two," he said, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. "Actions have consequences. Push someone into the abyss, and it might just push back."
Jace scrambled to his feet, his face a mask of fury and fear. "You freak!" he spat, flames roaring to life in his hands. "You think you can scare us? You're still nothing! Hollow!"
He hurled a fireball, bright and searing, straight at Won's chest.
The class screamed.
Won didn't move.
The fireball hit — and vanished. Not deflected, not extinguished, just… gone. The air shimmered where it had been, and a faint hum vibrated through the room, like the sound of reality stitching itself back together.
Jace staggered back, his flames flickering out. "What… what the hell are you?"
Won's smile returned, slow and savage. "I'm what you made me." He raised a hand, and the air around Jace warped. The silver-haired boy gasped as his own flames turned against him, curling inward, not burning but pressing, suffocating. His knees buckled, and he collapsed, clutching his chest.
"Stop!" Lila shrieked, her frost surging forward in a desperate wave.
Won's gaze flicked to her. The frost dissolved midair, leaving only a faint mist. "Enough," he said, and the word carried such weight that Lila froze, her hands trembling.
Torren, still on the floor, finally found his voice. "You're a monster," he whispered.
Won crouched in front of him, his eyes locking onto Torren's. "A monster?" he murmured. "No. I'm what happens when you break someone who was already broken. You wanted power? You wanted fear?" He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow filled the room. "Congratulations. You've got it."
He stood, turning back to the class. Every eye was on him, some wide with fear, others gleaming with something else — awe, fascination, maybe even hunger. A girl in the front row, her cheeks flushed, bit her lip so hard it bled. A boy in the back, one of Kairn's cronies, gripped his desk until his knuckles turned white.
"Now," Won said, his tone almost casual, "who wants to learn what the void can really do?"
The room was silent, but the energy was electric. Fear and fascination danced in equal measure.
The rest of the lesson was a blur of controlled chaos. Won didn't teach from his books. He didn't need to. He demonstrated. Objects vanished and reappeared at his command — a pencil, a desk, even a student's jacket, which rematerialized inside out and stitched shut. Each act was precise, deliberate, a show of power that left the class breathless.
But it wasn't just power. It was presence. The way he moved, the way his voice carried, the way his eyes seemed to see through everyone and everything. The old Won had been invisible, shrinking into corners. This Won filled the room, his every gesture commanding attention.
When the bell rang again, no one moved. They stared at him, waiting for permission to leave.
"Go," he said simply.
They scrambled out, a mix of hurried footsteps and hushed whispers. Jace, Lila, and Torren lingered, still shaken, their eyes darting to Won as if expecting him to strike again. He ignored them, gathering his books with the same deliberate calm.
As the trio slunk out, Jace muttered under his breath, "This isn't over, Hollow."
Won's head turned, just slightly. "It never was."
The door slammed shut behind them.
The hallway outside was a warzone of gossip. Students clustered in knots, their voices overlapping in a frenzy.
"Did you see that? He made a hole in reality!"
"Kairn was shaking. Shaking!"
"Is that really Professor Won? No way. That guy's… dangerous."
"Dangerous? He's hot."
The last comment came from a girl with braided hair, her cheeks still flushed from the classroom. Her friend elbowed her, giggling nervously. "Shut up, Mira. He'd probably vanish you for saying that."
Mira grinned, undeterred. "Worth it."
But not everyone was laughing. Jace, Lila, and Torren stood apart, their faces dark with a mix of fear and fury. Jace's hands were still trembling, though he tried to hide it by shoving them into his pockets.
"He's not human," Lila whispered, her frost creeping up her arms unconsciously. "We killed him. I know we did."
Torren shook his head, his voice low. "Then what the hell is he now?"
Jace's eyes narrowed. "Doesn't matter. He's still Hollow. We'll break him again."
But even as he said it, his voice wavered. The memory of that void, that endless nothing, lingered in his mind like a nightmare.
Won didn't return to the faculty room. He didn't need their sneers or their questions. Instead, he walked to the rooftop, the place where it had all ended — and begun.
The wind was sharp, biting at his face, but he didn't flinch. He stood at the edge, looking down at the Academy below. The glowing windows, the restless energy, the chaos of power barely contained. It was all so small now.
Inside him, two voices stirred. One was his own, faint and trembling, the Won who'd begged for respect, who'd whispered apologies to himself in the dark. The other was older, colder, a god who'd laughed as the universe tried to kill him.
They'll come for you again, the god's voice rumbled, low and amused. They always do.
"Let them," Won said aloud, his voice steady. "I'm not the one who's afraid anymore."
The god laughed, a sound that echoed in his bones. Good. Let's see how much fear they can take.
That night, the Academy was alive with whispers. Students gathered in dorms, their voices hushed but urgent. Stories spread — of the void, of Kairn's fall, of the man who wasn't a man anymore. Some called him a monster. Others called him a god. A few, like Mira, called him something else entirely, their voices tinged with a dangerous kind of longing.
In the faculty lounge, the professors were less amused. The broad man who'd sneered at Won before slammed his pipe on the table, his face red. "This is a disgrace! He's a teacher, not a warlord! He can't just terrorize students!"
Another professor, a thin woman with sharp eyes, leaned back in her chair. "Terrorize? He controlled them. Did you hear how quiet Class C was? For the first time in years?"
"He's dangerous," the man snapped. "Void power like that… it's not natural."
The woman smirked. "Neither are we. This is Ashen Academy. Dangerous is the point."
Meanwhile, in a darkened dorm room, Jace sat with Lila and Torren, their faces lit only by the faint glow of Lila's frost. They hadn't spoken much since the classroom. The weight of what they'd seen — what they'd felt — hung heavy between them.
"We can't let him win," Jace said finally, his voice low. "He's just one guy. We're stronger. We're better."
Lila shook her head, her eyes haunted. "You felt it, Jace. That… thing. It wasn't just power. It was like he could erase us. All of us."
Torren nodded, his usual bravado gone. "He's not Hollow anymore. He's something else."
Jace slammed his fist on the table, flames sparking briefly. "Then we'll find out what. And we'll destroy him. Again."
Back on the rooftop, Won stood motionless, his eyes on the stars. The god's voice stirred again, low and hungry.
They plot against you already. Shall we crush them now?
Won's lips curved into a faint smile. "No. Let them come. Let them try."
He turned, his coat flaring in the wind, and walked back toward the stairs. The Academy was a powder keg, and he was the spark. Whatever came next — rebellion, worship, or war — he was ready.
Because emptiness wasn't just power.
It was freedom.
And he was done being small.