The trio eventually reached the cafeteria, weaving their way through the steady flow of students drifting in and out. Dylan, unsurprisingly, took charge the mont they stepped through the doors, marching straight toward the counter like a man possessed by hunger itself. The others followed, collecting their trays and choosing their als before settling at a table near the center of the hall. From the mont they sat down, countless pairs of eyes began drifting toward them—so subtle, so not at all trying to hide their interest.
Most of those gazes, of course, landed squarely on Liam.
He felt them, noted them, and dismissed them just as quickly. Having anticipated this exact kind of attention, he didn’t spare even a full second to acknowledge any of it. He simply dug into his food, calm and indifferent, as though he were invisible.
After finishing their als, the trio stepped out into the open air again, wandering across the academy grounds with lazy ease. Students were still arriving from every direction, dragging luggage, greeting friends, or staring at the academy’s towering architecture like tourists.
Dylan stretched dramatically, arms high above his head as he let out a long groan. "Man, I’m stuffed. I swear, school is truly the best place on earth."
"That’s what soone says after inhaling a whole mountain," Asher muttered, shooting him a sideways look filled with casual disdain.
"Hey, don’t make it sound like I was the only one eating like that," Dylan protested instantly, pointing a finger at him. "You, mister permanent hothead, were scarfing down food like a wild dog back there. Don’t make look bad."
"Can you two quiet down for once?" Liam said in a level voice, not even bothering to turn toward them. "The afternoon sun is already irritating enough. Your pointless argunt is making it worse."
"Then why don’t you just shut up?" Asher shot back, snorting. "Nobody cares about your irritations."
Liam gave him a brief glance, more bored than bothered, then looked straight ahead again with a faint sigh. ’Utter waste of breath,’ he thought.
"Suit yourself," he murmured under his breath.
Asher clicked his tongue and looked away, annoyed but done with the exchange.
anwhile, positioned between them, Dylan couldn’t help but stare at both sides with a widening grin. "Damn," he said with a laugh bubbling up his throat, "you two sound like so long-divorced couple who were forced into joint custody of . It’s honestly impressive."
Neither of them dignified that with a reply, and the group continued walking, weaving between passing students and the occasional guard knight stationed along the pathways.
"Kind of strange we haven’t seen any of the girls yet. Or Max," Dylan said after a mont. "Almost every student seems to have arrived, but no sign of them anywhere."
"They’re probably getting their stuff arranged in their rooms," Asher replied simply.
"We literally just walked past the dorm buildings and didn’t see any of them," Dylan pointed out.
"You an we walked past our dorm building," Liam corrected calmly. "You do rember Sheila, Charlotte, and Max were assigned to Block Two in the previous building, right? Obviously, we weren’t going to see them there. If they’re not out yet, they’re likely inside getting their things sorted, just like buzzcut said."
He added, almost lazily, "And you know how girls always carry too many things."
Dylan humd thoughtfully. "Yeah, fair point... but what about Ariana? She wasn’t in the building when we checked earlier. Think she got assigned to Block Two this ti around?"
"Possibly," Liam answered. "Or she might be with Mystica. Hard to tell. She’s still her apprentice, after all."
At the very ntion of Mystica’s na, Dylan’s eyes lit up like a man witnessing divine revelation. "Oh my goodness... my sweet, magical goddess," he breathed dramatically. "How could I almost forget the most elegant woman in existence? Lady Mystica Moonstone... truly, what a glorious creation." He cupped his cheeks with both hands as if he were cradling a precious treasure.
Asher stared at him with outright disgust. "You really need help."
"I do indeed," Dylan replied without sha. "Help from Mystica, because only she can heal ." He added a dreamy sigh for emphasis.
Asher’s eye twitched violently, and he opened his mouth as if to unleash sothing scathing—
—but before he could get a word out, a loud feminine voice bood across the academy.
"All students, report to the Beacon Hall imdiately. I repeat, all students, report to the Beacon Hall imdiately."
The announcent echoed sharply, bouncing between buildings and silencing everyone mid-step.
"Whoa... that’s new," Dylan said, whipping his head around as if expecting to find the source floating above them.
Liam’s gaze swept the area until he caught a faint glow coming from a crystal embedded into the side of a building they were approaching. It pulsed softly, resonating with the voice that had just spoken.
’A speech amplification crystal,’ he realized. ’I’ve seen a few others around. They must be functioning as speakers for announcents.’
Before the boys could waste even a mont more lingering, the river of students around them began moving with purpose, all heading in the sa direction. The trio exchanged glances, then fell in step with the crowd, joining the steady march toward the Beacon Hall.
Entering the Beacon Hall felt like stepping into a storm of noise, movent, and restless energy. The trio halted just past the threshold, taking in the sight of students flooding every corner of the massive chamber, all scrambling to claim seats before the hall filled up completely. Voices overlapped, footsteps echoed loudly, and the constant shuffle of bodies created a restless hum that filled the air.
Dylan let out a long, impressed whistle as his eyes road across the chaotic scene. "Now that is a ridiculous number of students," he muttered, sounding both amazed and slightly overwheld.
"Yeah," Asher replied with a shrug, scanning the crowd. "Probably the seniors are here too. Looks like everyone’s packed in."
"Then let’s grab seats before we’re stuck standing," Dylan said, already pushing his way forward without waiting for them to agree. Liam and Asher exchanged a quick glance, then followed him into the tide of bodies.
They navigated row after row, weaving through scattered groups of students from their year who called out greetings or simply stared. The hall wasn’t only full—it felt like every square inch of space was being swallowed by the rising chatter and the heavy anticipation surrounding the announcent.
After a short search, the trio spotted a set of three open seats tucked between clusters of second-year students. Squeezing through the narrow gaps, they finally settled down, the chairs creaking faintly beneath them as they took a breather from battling the crowd.
Dylan leaned back and scanned the opposite side of the hall, eyes widening slightly. "Damn... you guys sure we’re actually second years? Because I swear I’m staring at past third years sitting way over there." He gestured toward a distant row packed with older-looking students.
’Yeah, we’re second years,’ Liam thought as he let his gaze drift subtly across the hall. ’It’s just not official yet. That’s probably why those guys are still around instead of sticking to their own schedules.’
A small crease ford between his brows. -But if that’s the case... why did the academy move us to the second-year dorms already? Shouldn’t they have waited to make the transition official?’
The thought lingered for a mont, then he dismissed it with a quiet exhale. ’I’ll wait for the announcent. No point stressing over assumptions.’
Gradually, the overwhelming noise began to fade as the hall settled. Students found their seats, conversations tapered off, and the giant double doors at the back of the hall shut with a heavy thud. A mont later, the lights dimd, casting the hall in a shadowed calm. Attention instantly shifted toward the stage at the front—lined with ornate chairs and a polished pulpit resting at its center.
Movent stirred at the side of the stage. The academy’s authoritative figures erged one by one, their robes and uniforms carrying a weight of presence that commanded silence from the crowd. They crossed the stage with practiced confidence before settling into their designated seats.
When the final figure took his place, one man rose from his chair. His steps were calm and steady as he approached the pulpit. His white hair was neatly kept, and his golden eyes shimred faintly even in the dimd light—Headmaster Thion Layenhart, the man who led the Dark Knight Academy with an unshakable presence.
He paused behind the pulpit, resting his hands lightly on its edges as he surveyed the sea of students stretched out before him. The hush in the room deepened. Then, with a brief clearing of his throat, his voice carried clearly, resonating through the hall with a deep, commanding tone.
"It is great to see you all once again, students of the Dark Knight Academy."
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