The village buzzed with murmurs long after Kairo's casual one-shot victory. His name drifted through the air like smoke—half praise, half disbelief.
"The new boy? The one with the lazy eyes?"
"He crushed Minos with a tap."
"Aether control like that… damn."
Kairo pretended not to hear, hands in pockets, strolling like he hadn't just disintegrated someone's pride. Selene walked beside him, jaw tight, arms folded so sharp she could cut him with them.
She waited until they reached a quieter alley between stone houses.
She stopped walking.
"Kairo."
He turned, slow, calm, annoying.
"Mmh?"
Without warning she flicked his forehead—HARD.
"OW– What was that for?" he rubbed it dramatically.
Selene glared, silver hair glinting under the sun.
"You're supposed to blend in. Blend in, not erase someone from reality. That was too flashy. One more stunt like that and we won't last a week here."
Kairo blinked twice. "My bad. I thought we were supposed to make an impression."
"Kairo, if you keep—"
"You're worried about me?"
Silence.
Selene's cheeks puffed slightly, but she recovered quickly, looking away.
"In your dreams. I'm worried about the mission."
He smirked — a small, dangerous smile.
"Sure."
She flicked him again.
"Behave. Next duel, you hold back. Let Lysandros shine too."
Kairo nodded, but his eyes said, Maybe I will, maybe I won't.
That night
Their assigned quarters overlooked the training grounds. The air smelled of olives and warm bread, lanterns flickering like captured stars. From the window, the three watched Greek trainees spar below — the scrape of sandals, the clash of wooden staves, the grunt of bodies.
Lysandros leaned on the wall, arms crossed.
"Rumors spread fast. If they suspect us…"
Selene finished, "We'll be surrounded before we reach the inner archive."
Kairo popped one of their stolen grapes into his mouth. "So we don't get caught."
"And how do you suggest we do that?" Selene asked.
Kairo dropped the next grape, caught it with his mouth without looking.
"We act like prodigies."
Lysandros sighed. "We are prodigies."
"No—" Kairo grinned, leaning forward, eyes sharpening. For a moment, his aura flared — thin, cold, like a shadow ready to swallow light. "We act like their prodigies."
Selene exchanged a look with Lysandros. Dangerous, but brilliant.
The next morning — the trial
The entire academy gathered. Marble pillars stood tall, golden banners fluttering. A circle arena carved from limestone awaited challengers. Masters sat like judges. Students whispered as the trio stepped in.
"Kairo, don't kill anybody," Selene muttered.
"I won't," he said.
"And no one-shot."
"No promises."
She almost strangled him then and there.
Because today, the academy held The Laurel Trial — a test for rising Greek talents. Winners earn access to training grounds, even scrolls in the inner library.
Exactly the place they needed.
Opponents gathered. Among them, Damon — a spear user, violet Aether swirling around him like a crackling storm. Top 5 rank. Born from a noble house. Aura sharp, eyes colder than Selene when she has reason.
Damon pointed his spear at Kairo. "You. The whisper boy. Fight me."
Selene exhaled. "Hold back. Don't show dual wielding. Don't even breathe too aggressively."
Kairo stepped forward.
"I talk too much, right?" he said without looking back.
Selene blinked. "Huh?"
He smiled slightly, dropping all warmth.
"I'll be quiet this time."
And like a switch, the boy who joked and ate grapes — vanished.
His aura cooled the air. Footsteps slow. Eyes dead calm.
Damon's spear surged with lightning.
Kairo didn't activate Aether. He just stood.
The whistle blew.
Lightning cracked — Damon flashed forward.
The audience gasped.
Kairo—moved only his head.
Spear grazed his cheek by a hair.
He whispered, voice low enough only Damon heard:
"Too slow."
Damon thrust again. Faster. Faster. Aether blazing.
Kairo walked through it. Hands in pockets.
Selene's eyes widened. "Is he—showing pure technique?"
Even Lysandros swallowed.
Kairo's body tilted like a dance — a predator weaving through harmless vines. Damon grew frustrated, wild, sloppy.
Kairo finally moved.
A single step.
Aether flickered briefly around his fingers — tiny, controlled, hidden.
He tapped Damon's chest with two knuckles.
Tap.
The sound echoed louder than thunder.
Damon flew back, crashed into the arena wall, unconscious.
Silence.
Then chaos.
"Who IS that?!"
"He didn't even draw a weapon!"
"His aura—did you feel that?!"
Selene pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I told you not to—"
Kairo walked back, eyes soft again, personality restored like he turned a dial.
"But Selene… I didn't one-shot."
"You SENT HIM TO HADES!"
"But I held back."
She stared at him for five full seconds.
Then hit him with a scroll.
Lysandros burst out laughing.
The crowd looked at them like they were witnessing gods disguised as teenagers.
And somewhere above, hidden in shadows, a hooded elder watched with interest.
"The boy. His aura drowns like abyss," the elder murmured.
"Keep an eye on him."
Later — when night buried the academy in quiet
Selene sat alone on the roof, legs dangling over the tiles. She stared at the moon's reflection in the courtyard fountain.
She whispered to herself, voice low:
"…idiot. What if he got hurt?"
She shook the thought away.
Just wind.
Kairo appeared behind her without a sound, sitting beside her.
She didn't look at him.
"Next time," she said quietly, "don't scare me."
He smiled gently, for once no teasing.
"Okay."
The moon hung above them like an ancient witness.
Tomorrow, infiltration would go deeper.
Secrets would bleed.
And whispers would spread like wildfire.
Because the trio were no longer just strangers.
They were the anomalies of Greece.