CHAPTER 5 — THE WEEK OF SHADOWS
The morning light poured gently over Germmy Institute, turning its metallic spires into gold. The freshmen had finally completed their orientation, and the official training was still a week away—a period the academy called the Familiarization Week.
For most students, it meant freedom, leisure, and endless exploration of the campus. For others, it meant a quiet reminder that the real test hadn't yet begun.
For Emma, it meant boredom—and self-loathing.
He sat on the balcony of Dorm 47, the cold breeze brushing his hair as he gazed down at the snowy field where other freshmen laughed and trained.
Some were showing off their newly awakened powers—glowing limbs, floating objects, bolts of energy flashing like lightning.
He sighed. "Show-offs."
"Maybe they're just practicing," Vorden said, standing beside him, hands in his pockets. The boy's silvery eyes reflected the horizon like twin mirrors.
"Practicing how to make powerless people feel useless?" Emma asked, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "They're nailing it."
Vorden gave a small smirk. "You'll awaken eventually. Everyone does."
"Yeah?" Emma raised an eyebrow. "And what if I don't? What if I'm just meant to be the comic relief in everyone's divine story?"
Iyke poked his head out from the doorway, holding a slice of bread in his mouth. "You already are."
Emma pointed a finger. "You're lucky you're fast. I'd have ended your bloodline."
"Which one?" Iyke said with a grin, vanishing in a blur before Emma could reply.
The three of them had grown closer in that single week—Emma's wit, Iyke's speed, and Vorden's quiet strength made an odd balance. But there was one absence that made Emma uneasy.
Grent hadn't shown up since the previous night.
In another part of the campus, beneath the training arena, the underground sector pulsed with dim red light. It was where the maintenance bots and engineers worked—where few students ever went.
Raale stood there with his arms crossed, his eyes cold. "You know what to do," he told the two students beside him—both Vaalion loyalists.
They nodded silently.
Raale smirked. "Good. Bring me Grent. The idiot's too loyal to that powerless trash. Let's see how long that lasts."
Grent walked through the northern alley of the dorm blocks, whistling to himself. His broad frame and cheerful nature made him a target of teasing but rarely of hate. He'd always stood by Emma, even when others mocked him for it.
He didn't notice the shadows trailing him until it was too late.
A hand grabbed him from behind—another clamped over his mouth.
"Wha—!" he tried to yell, but something struck the back of his neck. His vision dimmed.
As his body collapsed, Raale's smirk appeared through the gloom.
"Don't worry," Raale whispered. "You'll still be useful. I just need a little favor from you."
Grent's eyes widened in horror before darkness swallowed him.
Meanwhile, completely unaware of what had just transpired, Emma, Vorden, and Iyke strolled through the central walkway toward the Grand Archive, one of the most advanced libraries in the human realm.
It was enormous—built from silver-tinted glass that curved into a spiral tower, lighted by floating orbs that moved like fireflies. Holographic text danced across its front gate:
"KNOWLEDGE IS THE FIRST BLADE OF POWER."
"Now this," Emma said with a grin, "is my kind of battlefield."
Iyke rolled his eyes. "You mean sitting and pretending to read while you nap?"
"Exactly," Emma said proudly.
They walked in, and the atmosphere shifted. The inside was quiet—almost sacred. Transparent screens hovered in the air, displaying mana diagrams and old texts about the first awakeners.
Behind the counter sat an old man with silver hair tied loosely behind his head. His sharp blue eyes scanned them lazily.
His nameplate read: 'Librarian: Master Thane.'
He didn't look up as they approached. "If you're here to take selfies, turn around. The exit's behind you."
Emma blinked. "Do I look like someone who takes selfies?"
Thane looked up then, squinting. "Yes. You look like the kind of idiot who spends more time admiring his reflection than reading."
Iyke nearly burst into laughter. Vorden coughed, trying to hold it in.
Emma placed a hand dramatically on his chest. "That's unfair. My reflection deserves admiration."
Thane raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I see. Narcissism mixed with sarcasm—an unholy cocktail."
"Funny," Emma said, smirking. "That's what my teacher used to call me."
"Smart teacher," Thane replied flatly.
The two stared at each other for several seconds before both looked away—mutual recognition of similar temperaments.
"Fine," Thane said. "Section Delta-4 has the beginner manuals. Don't touch anything marked with a glowing red sigil. They bite."
Emma frowned. "Books that bite?"
"Metaphorically," Thane said. "Sometimes literally."
"Great," Emma muttered. "I love my education trying to kill me.
They split up inside the library. Iyke wandered into the historical section, and Vorden searched the advanced mana theory shelves. Emma found himself in the beginner combat philosophy aisle.
He ran his fingers along the shelves, reading titles like The Nature of Power, Affinity and Bloodlines, and Understanding Mana Flow. None of them helped the growing ache inside his chest.
He pulled one book out and skimmed a page. The words felt heavy.
"In every era, there are those born powerless. But in truth, no one is powerless—only unaware of their true curse or blessing."
He closed the book with a sigh. "Yeah, tell that to the guy who gets bullied with milk."
From behind him, Thane's voice echoed quietly. "Self-pity's a useless tool, boy. If you can't lift your body, lift your mind."
Emma turned. "I didn't ask for therapy."
"Good," Thane said. "It wasn't free."
Emma almost smiled. "You always talk like that?"
"Only when idiots waste potential," Thane replied. He walked closer, his expression softening slightly. "You've got good eyes. Ones that have seen too much and learned too little."
Emma blinked. "You sure that's not a poetic insult?"
Thane chuckled—a low, dry sound. "Poetry is just truth with rhythm."
For a few moments, silence filled the aisle.
Then Emma asked quietly, "Do you think people without powers can survive here?"
Thane studied him. "No," he said bluntly. "They can't."
Emma's shoulders tensed.
"But," Thane continued, "people without powers can change here. Some evolve through pain. Others through will. And a few…" He looked directly at Emma. "…through defiance."
Emma swallowed hard. "And if I'm the kind that breaks instead?"
Thane smirked. "Then break beautifully."
The three boys left the library as night fell, snow drifting down in slow spirals from the sky. The roads of Arcion shimmered beneath neon lights, and distant airships hummed above the dome.
Emma was unusually quiet during the walk.
Iyke finally asked, "You good?"
"Yeah," Emma said softly. "Just thinking."
"About what?" Vorden asked.
"About how I'm gonna survive a world that treats power like oxygen." He kicked a pile of snow. "And I'm still suffocating."
Vorden looked at him but didn't reply. He knew there was nothing comforting to say.
They reached the dorm and opened the door.
Inside, Grent sat on his bed—his large hands gripping his knees tightly. His usual cheerful expression was gone. His eyes were red, hollow, and distant.
"Hey!" Emma said, smiling faintly. "You disappeared on us, man. Where've you been?"
Grent didn't answer.
Iyke frowned. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," Grent said, his voice rough, mechanical almost. "Just… tired."
Emma's smile faded. Something was wrong.
He moved closer, but Grent flinched slightly. "Seriously, dude," Emma said softly. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Grent forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Just… not enough sleep."
Vorden exchanged glances with Emma, but neither pressed further.
"Alright," Emma said finally, forcing a grin. "Get some rest. Tomorrow we'll go find those cafeteria girls you scared away with your muscles."
Grent didn't laugh. He just nodded slowly and turned away.
Later that night, the dorm was silent except for the hum of the heater and the faint snowfall outside.
Emma lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts restless.
He thought of Thane's words.
He thought of his weakness.
And he thought of Grent's strange silence.
He turned on his side, muttering to himself, "Something's wrong... I can feel it."
In the next bed, Grent sat awake, eyes wide open, tears glistening faintly. He clenched his fists, whispering under his breath.
"I'm sorry… Emma."
Far away, in the northern sector dorms, Raale lounged casually on his bed, a cruel smile curving his lips.
His communicator blinked once—a message from his lackey.
"It's done. He won't talk."
Raale chuckled. "Good. Let's see how the hero reacts when his friend turns into a shadow."
He leaned back, closing his eyes.
"Soon… everyone will see who truly belongs in this era—and who doesn't."
The next morning, the sky over Germmy Institute was dull gray. The snow had thickened overnight, blanketing everything in stillness.
Emma woke up late, dragging himself out of bed. He noticed Grent already awake, staring out the window.
"Morning," Emma said, stretching. "You sleep at all?"
Grent nodded silently.
"Great. I dreamt I finally awakened my powers," Emma said, yawning. "Then I woke up and realized it was just me snoring."
Grent didn't even smile.
Emma frowned slightly but didn't push. He had learned that when people were quiet like that, sometimes silence spoke louder than words.
As the day progressed, the snow outside turned into a light drizzle. Students roamed the campus freely, unaware of the storm quietly forming within one dorm room.
Emma laughed half-heartedly at Iyke's jokes, but his mind was elsewhere—haunted by Grent's change, by his own weakness, and by a strange feeling in his gut that something terrible was coming.
And indeed—it was.