Arden's POV
I had barely closed my eyes when the first whispers started.
At first, I thought it was the wind. The drafts in the dormitory corridors always carried strange echoes.
But no. These were voices. Human voices. Soft. Hushed. Watching. Judging.
I got up and peered through the small gap in my curtains.
Students moved in patterns as usual. Groups formed and dispersed, laughter light but controlled. Their eyes flicked toward me from time to time.
They're talking about me, I realized. But why?
I sighed and grabbed my bag. If I wanted to survive here, I needed to observe first.
In the main hall, the day began with another round of exercises.
Kian and Sylvie were already there, waiting. Mira joined us a few moments later.
"You look like hell," Mira said, smirking.
"Thanks," I muttered. "I feel like it too."
Sylvie leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Ignore the whispers. It's how they test newcomers. Everyone's ranked, Arden. Everyone has eyes on them. Some students… they take it further."
I frowned. "Further? How?"
Sylvie hesitated, glancing around. "Some make it obvious. Subtle jabs. Questions meant to humiliate. Messages left where you'll find them. You need to respond carefully. Or… you won't be noticed for the right reasons."
I swallowed. I'm already a target, I thought.
During a break, I headed to the courtyard.
A group of upper-year students were near the fountain. They spotted me immediately.
"Look who it is," one of them said, smirking.
I kept walking, pretending not to hear.
But a small note fluttered near my feet. I picked it up cautiously.
You're too low to matter. Learn fast, or disappear.
I crumpled it in my hand. My stomach turned.
Mira appeared suddenly at my side. "You found it, huh?"
I nodded. "Yeah. I… what do I do?"
"Do what you're supposed to do," she said calmly. "Don't react with anger. Don't show fear. The Game feeds on both."
I looked at her. "The Game… you really mean it's like a competition?"
She nodded. "A competition. Life or survival. Don't get too close to the higher ranks. Don't make a mistake. And never, ever trust anyone fully."
I felt my pulse quicken.
Life or survival? I thought. This is insane.
The rest of the morning passed in tense silence.
I noticed glances following me wherever I went. Some curious. Some amused. Some dangerous.
During lunch, a tall student with dark hair approached our table.
"You're Number 013, right?" he asked casually.
I nodded. "Yeah. That's me."
He leaned closer. "Watch yourself. Rank doesn't forgive mistakes."
Before I could ask what he meant, he walked away, joining a group of higher-ranked students.
I felt my shoulders tighten.
I didn't belong here. Not yet.
Back in the dorm, I tried to rest, but the message I'd found earlier burned in my mind.
I paced the room. Then I noticed something I hadn't before — faint scratches on the wall near my bed.
Numbers. Symbols. Tiny, almost invisible.
I knelt, tracing them lightly with my finger.
Observe. Learn. Survive.
My heart thudded. Someone had left them here intentionally.
But who? And why?
I pulled out my notebook and scribbled everything I remembered from the morning — every glance, every word, every whisper.
I had to.
Because this was no ordinary school.
This was a test.
And I was already behind.
That night, the dormitory was silent. Too silent.
I sat by the window, looking down at the courtyard. The white flowers swayed gently in the night breeze. Shadows twisted over the marble paths.
I tried to convince myself that the notes, whispers, and scratches were random. That maybe someone was playing a prank.
But deep inside, I knew better.
Someone is watching me. And they already know more than I do.
I clenched my fists.
I didn't know their name. I didn't know their face.
But I knew one thing clearly:
I had to survive.
The next day, whispers followed me again.
This time, I caught a few words.
"Provisional… bottom rank… lucky she hasn't crushed him yet…"
I froze, heart hammering.
I didn't know who had spoken.
I didn't need to.
I understood perfectly.
The Game was everywhere. And I was already in it.
Later, I sat with Mira, Kian, and Sylvie in the courtyard.
"You can't ignore the higher ranks," Mira said quietly. "They watch everything. Laugh when you fail. Judge when you succeed. And they remember everything. One mistake… it's recorded."
I shivered. "Recorded? How? Where?"
"Everywhere," Sylvie said. "Even the walls, even whispers, even shadows. Edelweiss doesn't forgive ignorance."
I leaned back against the bench. My mind raced.
I had survived so far by luck. Or instinct.
But I knew instinct wasn't enough.
I have to understand the rules. Before it's too late.
Night fell, and I returned to my room.
I noticed new writing on the wall, faintly glowing red under the moonlight.
Rules aren't taught. They're earned. Survive long enough, and maybe you'll learn.
I exhaled, resting my forehead against the wall.
I didn't know the rules.
I didn't know the players.
I didn't even know the purpose.
But I knew one thing:
I had no choice but to play.