A sleek black car adorned with decorative chains along its sides and a chain emblem on the front pulled up outside the academy. Mr. Chain stepped out, his face contorted with fury as he stormed into the building, bellowing for Head Ryan.
Around the corner, Michael smirked. "That's what you deserve for letting me suffer all those years at this academy," he whispered to himself. "I'm done playing games. It's time to orchestrate your downfall. When I'm finished, I might attend an academy that actually cares about its students. You clearly only want corporate money, don't you? Let's see how you react when your funds vanish. You'll beg for my forgiveness—on your knees—and I'll simply say no. You didn't care when I got hurt, so why should I care about you?" Michael smiled coldly as he walked away, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
Ryan was relaxing in his office when Mr. Chain burst through the door. "Mr. Chain," Ryan stammered, his voice quivering.
"It's not what it looks like! But how are you here?"
"You let a kid call me instead of being strong enough to contact me yourself! You let my son die!" Mr. Chain roared, advancing toward Ryan. "If that child hadn't called me, I would never have known about his death. You would have just let him die without saying a word! It's unconscionable!" He thrust his face inches from Ryan's.
"Sir, I can explain—"
"Explain what? My son's death? You weren't even going to mention it!"
"We were going to call you," Ryan stuttered, his words tumbling over each other in fear. "We just didn't have enough time. We had a lot happening at the moment."
"You're lying! You feared calling me because you didn't want to jeopardize your precious bank account. For failing to contact me, I'll make your lives even more miserable than before. Do you understand me?" Mr. Chain bellowed.
"Yes, sir. Please, have mercy on me."
Mr. Chain slapped Ryan with such force that the sound echoed throughout the office. "Spare you? Are you insane? Why would I spare you when you couldn't even make a simple phone call about my son's death? I'll never spare you. I'll make your life as miserable as possible. I won't harm your family for your foolish decisions. In fact, I'll even send them money. But you and your staff who knew about my son's death—I'll ensure you suffer and pay. Do you hear me? Do you understand what I'm saying, Mr. Ryan?"
Ryan gulped, tears welling in his eyes from sheer terror. "Yes, sir. I understand."
"Good. I'm leaving now," Mr. Chain declared, slamming the door so violently that the walls trembled.
Michael, having overheard everything, smiled wickedly. "This is going to be amazing," he murmured.
A snake's head rolled across the soil as Phase, clad in blue armor, stood triumphantly in the forest. "That's five beasts down. Now I can prepare this meat, ensuring it's poison-free for my family."
He extracted the meat and headed home, carrying four bags—enough to feed his small family for weeks. Phase provided for his mother, Madison, and his nine-year-old sister, Lily. Hunting was his specialty, and he relied on it until he could discover better methods of obtaining food.
Arriving at their apartment, he placed the meat on the countertop. "These need to be kept at a specific temperature," he said, conjuring his blue energy. For four hours, he hovered his finger over the bags, his arm growing stiff from the familiar process. Finally satisfied, he removed his hand and prepared plates for his family.
"Now that's done, I need to clean up," he sighed, storing his blue armor in his dimensional space before beginning the chore.
Meanwhile, Mr. Jade wandered through the academy halls, exploring the school he hadn't seen since helping build it. Entering a darkened classroom, he flipped the light switch, then quickly turned it off when the brightness hurt his eyes. He closed the door, preferring to explore without distractions.
Glancing toward an open closet, he noticed unblinking eyes staring back at him.
"Who's in there? Come out now, or you'll regret it later," he demanded.
The figure remained silent, eyes fixed and unblinking. As Mr. Jade approached the door, a knife flashed through the air, slicing into his back and severing part of his spinal cord. He collapsed, paralyzed.
"What the—no! Please don't do this!" Mr. Jade pleaded, his eyes widening with terror.
The knife plunged repeatedly into his stomach, back, and chest before slashing his legs and finally slitting his throat. Mr. Jade lay motionless, surrounded by twenty stab wounds, blood pooling rapidly beneath him.
The killer dipped the knife in the victim's blood and wrote "MIDNIGHT" in bold, crimson letters on the floor before retreating into the closet, those unblinking eyes vanishing into darkness.
The Midnight Killer was definitely not human.
In the magic theory class, students debated the killer's nature.
"Sure he is human. He just leaves the closet to eat or use the bathroom. He's a normal person," one student argued.
"Those unblinking eyes are terrifying, man," his classmate countered.
"You're just basing that on rumors. People always exaggerate for dramatic effect."
"Whatever," the other student muttered, returning his attention to the lecture.
Meanwhile, in the hospital, everyone's condition was improving. Elon was getting better, Matthew was fully awake, and the other two students had regained consciousness. Nerun remained critically injured but was receiving the treatment his organs desperately needed. Though still near death, his condition had stabilized somewhat.
Inside a closet somewhere in the academy, a pair of eyes opened once more. A knife rose silently in the darkness, and then everything went quiet.