"Warning. Go replace your seed."
Mara's voice rang out once again.
Eylan felt uneasy, unsure of what to say.
'Should I apologize? Or is it better to stay quiet?'
The situation was far too uncomfortable.
Caught in indecision, he chose silence.
The strange atmosphere lingered for quite a while—heavy, awkward.
Miria remained quiet, her head slightly lowered.
That lasted until Eylan decided to say something. However, his attempt was interrupted by the instructor.
"Well then, class is over! Leave the seeds on the tables!"
Mara said goodbye with a smile, a smile answered only by expressions of anger and disdain.
"Bitch," someone muttered quietly.
"Warning! Anyone else want to be the last one of the day to receive one?"
Everyone stayed silent as they left.
Walking along with the group, Eylan reached the exit of the greenhouse. Miria was there too.
Even so, the two kept some distance between them.
"Well… I guess we part ways here, right?"
Eylan spoke with a knot in his throat, avoiding her gaze.
"Okay, I'll get going."
Miria seemed less shaken now, but her blunt reply still hit him.
He wanted to say something—anything. But he was interrupted.
"It's not your fault."
She said calmly, turning around and walking off alone in the opposite direction.
Eylan noticed her fists clenched tightly.
Sighing, he headed back toward his room.
In a secluded area of the academy, a sharp-faced young man enjoyed his free time beneath the shade of a tree.
His keen gaze followed the wind as it played with the leaves, making them spin and dance in the air.
The sky was a spectacle: scattered clouds tinted orange and pink contrasted against the deep blue of the firmament.
The sun slowly set behind the silhouette of the colossal walls, casting its final rays in a silent explosion of warmth.
The clouds, layered thin and uneven, looked as if they were on fire, capturing the sunset's light and reflecting it in shades of gold and red.
In an introspective tone, he murmured:
"Will I really get the chance to have Song in the palm of my hand…? I'll need to be careful from now on."
Even under pressure, it wouldn't hinder him. No matter what they tried.
From afar, he noticed a girl approaching, wrapped in a melancholic aura.
"Hm… what must have happened?"
He said with apparent concern, while a malicious smile played on his lips.
'Why did he have to ask that?'
In that moment, Miria's world seemed to crumble for a few seconds.
Sometimes, she forgot what awaited her outside the academy.
When she spotted the boy leaning against the tree, a small crack of light seemed to open in her heart.
'I still remember it like it was yesterday…'
Surrounded by a few boys from Clan Valor, they hated her simply for belonging to Clan Song.
Even in that situation, no one came—not a single soul—to help her. It had always been like that for her. Always alone.
Preparing to defend herself, she heard a voice.
The voice shouted, raged—and yet, it was gentle.
So gentle, because unlike the others, it wasn't there to judge or humiliate.
It was there to defend her. To comfort her.
For the first time, someone placed himself between her and the world.
Since then, she had grown closer and closer, feeling things she had never felt before:
the warmth of a hug, the freshness of a compliment, the safety of a steady presence.
She had built a wall around herself, protecting against the arrows of her enemies.
But he was the only one who knocked on the door, asking to come in.
The colors of the world had seemed brighter ever since.
Life was no longer just black and white.
But she was greedy. She didn't want just that—she wanted to claim what she desired, no matter the cost.
When she saw him stand up and wave, she smiled—the most genuine smile she had ever given.
"Ravon!"
"Miria!"
He replied with the same enthusiasm.
Running, Miria leaped onto Ravon, knocking him onto the soft ground.
The two laughed, hugging each other.
They sat beneath the tree, casually talking about the day, the classes, small discoveries.
Until the tone grew serious.
"You know, today I felt kind of bad in class… especially during that activity."
Ravon listened attentively, saying nothing.
The silence stretched longer than natural. His eyes lost focus for a moment, as if searching for something within himself.
Only then did he speak, in an overly careful tone:
"What affected you, Miria? Did someone mess with you?"
Ravon's voice was soft, almost melodic.
"Yes… it was Eylan."
"W-what—?" he started, but she hurried to explain.
"He didn't mean any harm. He asked a question that made me uncomfortable, but I know it wasn't intentional."
"Ah…" Ravon relaxed.
"I knew he wouldn't do something like that."
But inside, other thoughts surfaced.
'Maybe I owe you one, young Star…'
After comforting her, he felt Miria rest her head on his shoulder, slowly falling asleep.
When her breathing became steady, Ravon remained still.
Looking at her face so close to his, his gaze turned empty.
The silence around them seemed to mirror the one within his own soul.
After finishing a long, hot shower, Eylan walked through the corridors toward his room.
It was already night.
As he replayed the day's events in his mind, he felt a presence.
From a dark corner, a figure emerged from the shadows.
Instinctively, Eylan began forming a small sphere of water behind him—but stopped when the young man raised his hands in surrender, as if to say he had no ill intentions.
"I didn't come to do anything bad."
When he stepped into the light, Eylan recognized the pale face, black hair, and deep dark circles under his eyes.
"Bhetel? What are you doing here?"
What was this guy planning?
"I'm here to make you a proposal."
'Proposal? Does he think we're in some academic drama? Seriously, I don't get these people…'
Finding the situation ridiculous, Eylan decided to hear him out.
"Alright. Say what you want."
The gloomy Awakened scanned the surroundings, deep paranoia etched into his eyes.
"Let's go somewhere else."
"Where?" Eylan was starting to find this strange.
"I don't know, maybe your room?" The boy didn't seem to know either.
'Seriously? He comes to talk to me without even knowing where to go?'
Sighing in disappointment, a baffled Eylan guided him there.
Eylan sat down on the chair; Bhetel remained standing.
Resigned after being pulled away from his well-earned rest, Eylan asked bluntly:
"Go on. What's your proposal?"
Bhetel leaned against the door, trying to listen for anyone outside. After confirming no one was listening, he said:
"I want to form a partnership to take down Willian."
In a grave tone, he finally said what he wanted.
"A partnership to take down Willian?" Eylan raised an eyebrow.
"That's what you want?"
Eylan was incredulous. Were these kids born with some kind of Grudge Syndrome? Why was everyone so vengeful?
"Yes." There wasn't a hint of hesitation in Bhetel's voice.
"Why?"
Perplexed, Eylan wanted to confirm his motives. Maybe there was something deeper?
"Because he talked about my family. Simple."
Yeah. There wasn't.
"Hm…"
But this wasn't entirely bad for Eylan—in fact, it was quite good. He really didn't like that petty bastard, so he wouldn't refuse an opportunity to screw him over.
Still, he wasn't stupid enough to trust this so easily.
"And why should I help you?"
Obviously, he had many reasons to want that legacy to fall. But those reasons were known only to him, Ravon, Willian, and his lackeys.
"Because if he drops in the ranking, you rise. And I know you can hold your position."
Their battle must have left an impression on Bhetel for him to speak with such confidence.
Eylan raised an eyebrow. There was logic there… but something was still missing.
"And why should I trust you?"
Should he trust a stranger just because that person hated someone he also disliked? That was illogical.
Bhetel seemed to sink into deep thought as he searched for an answer. Then his eyes gained a cold gleam.
"Because we're the same."