The sky above Arcadia Academy was overcast.
Not stormy. Not thundering.
Just... gray.
Muted. As if the heavens themselves had draped a mourning veil across the sun.
We were all released from the infirmary that morning. Physically healed, at least. But none of us felt light. Not really.
The weight hadn’t left.
And it only grew heavier as we stepped into the great ceremonial hall.
The sa place where, not so long ago, the orientation had taken place—filled with light, cheers, dreams.
Now, it was draped in black and silver.
Rows upon rows of students had gathered, all in formal uniform. Professors stood near the front, silent. Even the ever-talkative Kyle didn’t mutter a word.
And there, on the stage, stood Professor Seraphina.
Her long silver-blue hair was tied back into a simple braid. Her usual sharp poise was still there, but today... it felt softened. Dimd.
Her black robe flowed behind her like ink in water. In her hands was a folded parchnt.
Her voice echoed through the silent hall. Calm. Steady.
But tinged with sothing that trembled beneath the surface.
"A few weeks ago, I stood here before all of you... filled with pride. You were beginning your journey, full of excitent and hope."
She paused, looking down for a brief mont—perhaps to compose herself.
"And now... I stand here again. Not to welco, but to mourn."
Her eyes lifted, scanning the gathered first-years.
"Today, we rember six of our own. Students of Arcadia Academy. Children, brothers, sisters... friends."
She unfolded the parchnt with slow, reverent fingers.
"First-year: Callen Drust."
"First-year: Sora Linne."
"First-year: Myra Etten."
"First-year: Davan Elrik."
"First-year: Niko Ferren."
A pause.
"And third-year: Elric Thorne."
A hush fell over the room, deeper than silence. A few gasps. A few held breaths. Sowhere in the back, soone quietly sobbed.
Luca stood with the rest—his head bowed, fists clenched at his side.
Six nas.
Six futures.
Gone.
Just like that.
Professor Seraphina continued, her voice now barely above a whisper.
"They ca here as students. But they left... as protectors. As heroes."
She stepped back.
And then the dean stepped forward.
No more the lazy, old man with slippers and tea stains.
Today, he was solemn. Dignified. His robes were immaculate black with a silver sash. A mourning band around his arm.
His eyes—aged but clear—swept across the crowd.
"To the families of the fallen, Arcadia Academy grieves with you."
"To the students... I know words may feel empty. They cannot undo what happened. But know this—these lives will not be forgotten."
"They stood against darkness. And because of that... more lives were spared."
A pause. The dean lowered his head, voice heavier now.
"This should not have happened."
"And it will not happen again."
He looked toward the rows of professors, his gaze sharp for just a breath of a second.
Then, he turned back to the students, and bowed his head.
Silence followed.
No applause.
No claps.
Just... quiet. A hall full of mourning souls.
And the nas of the fallen echoed in all of our hearts.
Professor Seraphina stepped forward once more, her expression unreadable—but her voice gentle.
"Now... I ask for a mont of silence. Let us offer our prayers to those who are no longer with us."
Everyone bowed their heads.
The vast hall stilled completely. Not a whisper. Not a breath out of place. Just the soft rustle of robes and uniforms as heads lowered in respect.
Two minutes passed.
But for many of us... it felt like eternity.
When the silence finally broke, Seraphina’s voice returned, softer now. She glanced over the students, her eyes lingering on a few in particular.
"If anyone would like to speak... to share a few words about those we’ve lost... the stage is open."
There was hesitation.
Then, one by one, a few students stepped forward.
A friend of Davan’s spoke first. He shared a story about how Davan once stayed up three nights helping him train with a shield because he kept getting knocked over in sparring.
Soone from Niko’s team stepped up next, their voice trembling as they recalled how Niko used to hum under his breath during missions—because it helped him focus.
Small things.
But beautiful things.
Fragnts of lives that were now mories.
Luca stood there, unmoving.
His eyes stared at the stage... but he didn’t see it.
He wasn’t here.
Not really.
Inside Luca’s thoughts...
I should’ve seen it coming.
He clenched his fists, barely aware of the dull pain that flared through his palms.
I was the variable.
Yes, the demons. Yes, the blood crystal. Yes, the devil’s power.
But ?
I’m the one that shouldn’t exist here.
He didn’t know what to do when he first ca to this world. A part of him had hoped he could coast by—be a side character. Watch from the sidelines.
Should he have kept his distance from the main characters?
Should he have involved himself more?
He didn’t know.
So he did neither.
He drifted.
And now six people were dead.
If he had just... thought things through. If he’d realized how fragile this world was in comparison to the ga version—
Maybe he could’ve changed sothing.
Stopped sothing.
Saved soone.
But he hadn’t.
And now...
They were gone.
The ceremony ended.
The dean gave a final bow.
Professor Seraphina stepped back.
One by one, students began to file out—quiet, respectful. So with tears in their eyes. Others holding hands or leaning on shoulders.
But Luca didn’t follow.
He didn’t move with the crowd.
He simply drifted.
Through the courtyard. Past the fountain. Down the back garden path.
Soone called his na.
"...Luca!"
Kyle?
A pause. Another voice.
"Luca, wait up!"
Eric.
But Luca didn’t stop.
Didn’t turn.
Didn’t hear them.
He walked.
Through flowered paths and shadowed corridors, through whispers of wind and fading light.
A ghost in the very world he was supposed to change.
Or maybe ruin.
Luca wandered until the world around him blurred into muted greens and golds. The sky was beginning to dim, casting long reflections across the surface of a quiet lake tucked behind one of the academy’s old gardens.
The air here was different.
Still. Calm.
And then—
He saw her.
A young woman with violet hair, shimring in the light like painted silk, stood ankle-deep in the lake. She wore a simple white tunic with loose sleeves rolled up, laughing softly as small silver-blue fishes darted through the water around her. One of them leapt toward her hand, splashing water across her cheeks.
She looked like sothing out of a dream.
Not a student. Not a warrior.
Just... peaceful.
But then—she leaned too far, chasing after a fish with outstretched fingers. Her foot slipped against a mossy rock.
"Hey—be careful!" Luca shouted without thinking.
The woman didn’t fall.
With a grace that seed almost magical, she righted herself at the last second, arms stretched out like a dancer catching balance mid-step.
She turned.
Surprise lit her face, then amusent.
"Are you speaking to ?" she called, blinking with wide, golden eyes.
Luca blinked back.
"...There’s no one else here, right?"
She giggled and stepped out of the water, the hem of her tunic damp and clinging lightly to her legs. Without hesitation, she approached him—smiling curiously as she tilted her head and looked him up and down.
Then her expression softened as her eyes reached his face.
"You’re sad. Why are you sad? Tell "
It wasn’t a question.
He shifted uncomfortably. "...It’s nothing. I don’t even know you."
That should’ve ended the conversation.
But she only smiled, brushing a few strands of wet hair behind her ear.
"Exactly. You don’t know ," she said gently. "Isn’t it easier, sotis, to speak to soone you don’t know? You don’t have to be afraid of being judged."
Luca froze.
The simplicity of the words... struck sothing deep.
He stared at her for a mont.
Then slowly—he nodded.
"...Yeah," he said, voice low. "That might be true."
She sat down lightly on a patch of dry stone near the water, hugging her knees.
"Well then," she said. "What’s worrying you?"
Luca hesitated.
His eyes dropped to the lake. His thoughts swirling like the ripples in the water.
Then he took a breath.
And began to speak.
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