The Academy was in full motion.
It had been four days since the Zones were first opened, and three days until the racial classes would begin. For the first time, the grounds felt alive , corridors filled with voices, transport lanes crowded with shuttles, and gathering halls no longer empty.
The news of eighteen dead students had shaken everyone.
What eased the panic was information.
The Academy had introduced a communication system known as ID Net — a shared network that allowed students to exchange text, recordings, and live visuals. Through it, details spread quickly. Patterns were identified. Rumors were corrected. Fear was managed.
Zone 3, at least, had begun to lose some of its mystery.
Students shared discoveries, warnings, and survival methods. Others tested theories firsthand. Some chose to do nothing at all.
Most importantly, one fact became widely known:
Most Zones could be entered in groups of two to six.
That alone made them less terrifying.
Zone 4 — Dormitory Dimension
Within a subspace of Zone 4 stood a large villa, its halls filled to capacity.
Human students — nearly all of them — crowded the interior, their numbers approaching ninety-five percent of the Academy's total human population. They waited in tense anticipation.
Slow footsteps echoed.
A young man in a dark robe stepped forward, its hem brushing the floor. His eyes were sharp, calculating.
Varius.
The noise died instantly. Conversations cut off. Every gaze locked onto him.
He cleared his throat.
"I thank you all for responding to my humble request," he said smoothly. "Now— we shall hear from Her Royal Highness herself."
He gestured to his side.
A young woman stepped forward, clad in simple military attire. Her posture was straight, her presence commanding.
Alexandria.
At her side walked Trisha, armored and alert.
Alexandria inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the crowd before speaking.
"Many of you have heard of me," she began calmly. "For those who have not you will."
A ripple of attention passed through the room.
"The alliance forged between Varius and myself exists for one purpose: unity. Not symbolic unity, practical unity. Within this academic structure, we stand stronger together."
Her gaze sharpened.
"To protect. To fight. To watch over one another."
A pause.
"The deaths of eighteen students have proven that such unity is no longer optional."
Her voice rose slightly.
"Together, we train faster. Learn faster. Prepare faster. Together, we survive."
The words echoed, heavy and deliberate.
A hand rose from the crowd.
Varius answered before Alexandria could. "Please. Ask."
"You initially advised us to avoid Zone 3," the student said. "Does that still stand?"
Varius smiled faintly.
"As of now," he replied, "we possess partial information. Confirmations. Some assurances. However, we still do not understand the ranking system, nor the arena."
He spread his hands.
"Everyone is free to enter any Zone. Just remember, you are members of Alexandria's Knights."
The crowd nodded in silence. It was the question that needed asking.
The villa gradually emptied.
Soon, only Varius, a few subordinates, Alexandria, and Trisha remained.
Varius turned toward Alexandria, smiling. "I hope the gathering was to your liking, Princess."
"It was adequate," she replied coldly.
Trisha spoke up. "How did you secure this villa?"
Varius' smile didn't change. "A magician's secret."
"Hmph," Alexandria scoffed. "Typical."
She turned to leave.
"Princess," Varius called.
She stopped but did not turn.
"Now more than ever," he said quietly, "you must set the standard."
Alexandria chuckled softly, her hand tightening around her sword.
"I could say the same to you, Varius," she replied. "Stop holding back."
With that, she departed. Trisha followed.
V-3-24, Villa
Alexandria and Trisha shared a villa with other occupants, though it was far less welcoming than Eghosa's.
Most residents kept to themselves.
Mixed-race villas rarely formed bonds. Eghosa's was the exception — not the rule.
Silence filled the space.
Then Alexandria rose and reached for her sword.
Trisha groaned.
"Training again?"
Alexandria was beautiful. Saintly, even. But there was one word that defined her above all else:
Relentless.
Steel rang out moments later.
Blades clashed. Sweat filled the air. Footwork carved patterns into the floor.
Eventually, Trisha staggered back, gasping.
"Monster," she muttered.
Alexandria heard her — and ignored it.
"You wield two blades," Alexandria said calmly. "There are only two valid methods."
Trisha sighed. "I know."
"First: ambidexterity. Natural or trained. Both blades equal in offense and defense."
"I know."
"Second: switching roles. One attacks while the other defends — or both perform the same function."
"I know!" Trisha snapped. "But what's the point of all this when an X-blaster can end a fight instantly?"
Alexandria froze.
Then she laughed.
She laughed so hard she bent forward, clutching her stomach, hair flowing wildly.
Trisha stared, stunned. "Did I say something wrong?"
"I've seen it," Trisha added angrily, blushing. "Someone took down an instructor with an X-blaster during testing!"
Alexandria's laughter faded.
She straightened and looked at Trisha seriously.
"Wait," she said. "You're serious?"
"What do you mean?"
Alexandria murmured to herself. "I see…"
She looked back at Trisha.
"Have you ever seen a soldier? A knight?"
"No. And what's a knight?"
Alexandria nodded slowly.
"A knight is one who has earned a Dao Blade and awakened Haoran. It is not merely a weapon — it is a right. A responsibility."
Her voice hardened.
"They are humanity's monsters. Other races call them by different names, but the universe knows them as Blademasters."
She leaned closer.
"No weapon can pierce Haoran except another Dao Blade."
Trisha stood frozen.
Dao Blade. Haoran.
She understood only one thing:
She was still a frog in a well.
That was enough.
She gripped her blades tighter and stood.
"Again," she said, pointing her sword at Alexandria.
Alexandria observed her closely.
"You have someone you wish to surpass," she said.
Trisha flushed. "I—"
"It's fine," Alexandria interrupted. "There's no shame in it."
She gazed upward.
"Even I have someone I wish to surpass."
In that moment, Trisha saw her clearly.
Not a saint.
Not royalty.
Human.
She laughed, loud, wild, fearless.
"Aren't you cute," Trisha said. "Friend?"
Alexandria blinked.
"Friend…"
Their gazes met one blazing, one radiant.
Like kindred souls locked in a celestial dance of flame and night, they stood beneath the diamond net of the void sky.
Thus began the clash
An Eternal Sun
and an Immortal Moth.