The skies above Abyssian Academy rumbled, not with thunder, but with the quiet weight of gathering momentum—of ambitions sharpening like blades in the dark.
And at the center of it all, silent as ever, was Sebastian Raizen.
He stood atop the Observatory Spire, robes rippling gently in the wind. From this height, the Academy below looked like a chessboard—students mere pieces moving across marble tiles, unaware of the hands guiding their fate.
They think the duels were the storm, Sebastian thought. But the storm hasn't even begun breathing yet.
He let the thought go, and the wind answered.
---
Hours Earlier – The Inner Sanctum
Sebastian's boots echoed in the training hall reserved for the top ten.
Even in a space carved for elites, he stood alone.
His strikes were economical. Swift. Brutal. A horizontal slash snapped through six moving mana constructs in a single motion, each collapsing into flickering particles before hitting the ground. His breathing remained steady. Cold.
He didn't train to improve. He trained to remember.
To remember his rhythm. To remember her voice. To remember what he owed.
From the shadows, a voice rang out—cloaked in playful venom.
"Well, if it isn't Abyssia's favorite phantom."
Sebastian didn't turn. He didn't need to. "Jovhan. You've gotten louder."
Jovhan strolled forward with a crooked grin, shoulders slouched in mock exhaustion. "And you've gotten quieter. That's dangerous. It usually means you're thinking."
Sebastian finally turned, gaze sharp.
"Did they send you?"
Jovhan'a grin froze, just slightly. "You think I follow orders now?"
"No," Sebastian said. "You follow interest."
Jovhan's expression shifted. That was fair. He chuckled and stepped into the training ring, finger tapping the hilt of his blade.
"Tell me something," Jake said. "How long are you going to pretend to be part of this academy?"
A moment of silence passed between them.
"Until it breaks," Sebastian replied.
Jovhan stared at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Good."
---
Elsewhere – A Hall of Feathers and Smoke
Headmistress Thalia stood before a projection of swirling cosmic light. Her expression was unreadable, fingers laced behind her back.
"They've started to move," came a voice behind her.
"I know," she said. "The Council of Veils is watching the commoner."
"The Strong boy?"
"Worse," she said. "The Strong boy is watching back."
---
Later That Night – Sebastian's Quarters
Candlelight cast long shadows on the stone walls.
Sebastian sat cross-legged, a black-bound book resting in his lap. Not a tome of spells. Not a combat manual. Just pages of names, dates, and places—people long buried, memories he refused to let rot.
He turned a page.
Juneil Raizen – Tempered, not born. Killed during the Abyss War. Buried in black fire.
He turned another.
Saelin Ward – Commoner. Weapon master. Betrayed.
He stopped, fingers tightening around the book's edge.
And then a knock.
He didn't answer, but the door opened anyway.
Luna entered without a word, her white-and-violet uniform pristine, her gaze steady.
"You're slipping again," she said, placing a small pouch on his desk. Inside: four silverblood talismans and a bitter medicinal root.
Sebastian gave her a look. "You still checking my pulse when I sleep?"
"No," she said. "You're easier to read when you're awake."
A flicker of a smile crossed his lips. Brief. Real.
Then silence.
She walked toward the balcony and looked out. "Everything feels tense. Like something's waiting to scream."
"It is," Sebastian said.
Luna turned to face him. "Then scream first."
---
Beneath the Academy
The masked figures returned. But this time, the kneeling messenger brought more than just a name.
"They've begun converging," the figure said. "Unseen gates are opening. One of them called Sebastian 'Raizen of the Fractured Path.'"
That name sent a chill through the chamber.
A single mask leaned forward. Its voice was old. Inhuman.
"Then the board must change. Forget Garet. Forget the duel rankings."
The air grew heavy.
"Find the ones who are fractured."