Aren's group navigated the sprawling halls toward their next destination. "We only have one session left Combat Class," Theo remarked, checking the holographic interface of his smartwatch. Aren didn't respond; he walked with his head lowered, lost in a whirlpool of his own thoughts.
In his daze, Aren didn't notice the figure rounding the corner. The collision was sharp. As Aren stumbled back and looked up, the blood drained from his face.
"Aren Vox," the boy snarled. It was Archer.
Water dripped from Archer's hair and uniform. The impact had caused the water bottle in his hand to splash entirely over his chest.
Of all the people in this academy, why did it have to be him? Aren thought, paralyzed by a familiar fear. Before he could stammer an apology, Archer lunged forward, seizing Aren's collar. His face was contorted with a volatile, explosive rage.
"You know, we still have some unfinished business from the jungle," Archer hissed. His fist began to take on a jagged, grey stony texture. He drew back his arm, aiming a heavy blow directly at Aren's face.
Aren braced for the impact, closing his eyes. But the blow never landed. Instead, a dull thud echoed in the corridor.
Aren opened his eyes to see Theo standing firmly in front of him, having taken the full force of the stone-fist punch with his own shoulder.
"Is that it?" Theo asked, a disappointed smirk playing on his lips. "There was no weight behind that punch at all."
Archer released Aren's collar, stepping back to glare at the newcomer. "Oh, so the Null actually managed to find himself a bodyguard?"
Theo's relaxed demeanor shifted. He stepped into Archer's personal space, his eyes glowing with a faint, predatory purple hue. "He's found a friend. Do you have a problem with that?"
Archer hesitated. He was alone, and they were three. I could take the Null and the green-haired kid easily, Archer calculated, but this red-haired one... he's a problem.
Just as the tension reached a breaking point, a smooth voice drifted from behind them. "Archer, how many times must I tell you? Stop looking for trouble."
A handsome, lean-muscular student approached. He carried himself with an effortless grace, a mysterious yet calming smile etched onto his face. He stepped between the groups and looked at Theo with an apologetic expression.
"Please, forgive my friend," the newcomer said, his voice sweet and soothing. "He has a bit of a temper problem." He turned his gaze toward Archer, his tone remaining soft but firm.
"Apologize. Now."
Archer gritted his teeth, looking at Aren with pure venom before muttering a forced "Sorry."
"My name is Manu. I'm the Class President of Group B," the boy said, extending a hand toward Theo.
Theo stared at the hand for a long moment but didn't take it. "Just keep your friend away from my friends," he said coldly. Without another word, he signaled to Aren and Duke, and the three of them walked away down the corridor.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Archer turned to Manu, his voice rising in anger. "President! Why did you let them walk away like that? We could have"
In a movement so fast it was a blur, Manu's hand shot out. He gripped Archer's throat and hoisted him several inches off the floor.
"If you ever raise your voice at me again," Manu whispered, that same mysterious smile still on his lips even as his eyes burned with a terrifying coldness, "I will tear your tongue out."
Manu released his grip, and Archer collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. Manu knelt beside him, his voice returning to its sweet, melodic tone. "Learn to use your head, Archer, not just your fists.
"Besides... we have a great deal of use for those Nulls." He patted Archer's shoulder, straightened his hair, and walked away, leaving Archer shivering on the ground.
Archer picked himself up, his face twisted in a mask of loathing. "Aren... I don't know how you got lucky last time, but you're dead. Just wait."
Meanwhile, Aren, Theo, and Duke approached the combat training hall. Aren had finally found the courage to tell Theo the full story of his history with Archer. But didn't tell the Varkas part.
"Man, I'm sorry, Aren," Theo said, sounding genuinely bothered. "I had no idea it was that bad."
"Don't worry about it, Theo. It's not your fault," Aren sighed.
Duke let out a long yawn, checking his own watch. "Alright, you guys have fun in class. I need to go buy some spare parts for my drone's rotors."
"Aren't you joining us?" Aren asked.
"Nah," Theo answered for him. "Duke hates direct combat. He didn't enroll in the physical combat module; he's focusing on tech and support."
As Duke walked off, a melodic voice called out from behind them. "Aren! Wait for me!"
Aren slapped a hand to his forehead, an irritated groan escaping his lips. "Not again."
Evy Ross jogged up to them, looking perfectly energized. "Oh, how lucky! You're in Combat Class too?"
Aren gave a weary nod. Theo leaned in, nudging Aren with his elbow. "Aren, aren't you going to introduce me to your 'friend'?"
Aren shot Theo a look that said I've told you a thousand times, she's not my friend, but he gave up.
"I'm Evy. Nice to meet you," she said, offering a hand to Theo.
"Theo. The pleasure is all mine," Theo replied with a grin.
"Great, now that the introductions are over, can we please go inside?" Aren muttered, ushering them into the hall.
Inside, the atmosphere was different from the previous gym. It was a massive, open arena. Standing at the far end was a tall, imposing man with long hair that veiled half of his face. It was Mr. Stephen.
"It seems everyone is here. Let's begin," Stephen said, his deep voice carrying through the room without effort.
Aren and Theo took their place among the students. Evy slid into the spot right next to Aren, leaning in to whisper, "So... do you actually drink blood, or is that a myth?"
Aren glared at her but remained silent.
"Hello, students. My name is Stephen Hall. You will address me as Mr. Stephen," he said, offering a small smile that somehow looked more terrifying than a scowl.
A student raised their hand hesitantly. "Sir... if you don't mind me asking... are you the Stephen Hall? From the Second Great Demon War?"
The room went deathly silent. The air grew heavy. Aren leaned toward Theo and whispered, "Who is he? Why is everyone acting so weird?"
Before Theo could answer, Stephen's voice boomed, chilling the marrow in Aren's bones.
"Yes. I am the same Stephen Hall who claimed the lives of a thousand demons in the Great War," the man said, his eyes flashing behind his hair. "They used to call me... Stephen the Hell's Butcher."