The weekend bled into a new week, and Aegis Academy slipped back into its first-year curriculum as if nothing had happened.
Despite all their efforts they couldn't to hide the things that weren't okay much longer without suffering even more backlash
The Dungeon Incident had nearly crippled the school's reputation. No amount of damage control could fully hide the cracks—so instead, they decided to pretend the cracks weren't there.
Or rather… force them shut.
"Get your arses moving, you little shitheads!!"
And that's how I ended up sprinting under the blistering sun, lungs on fire, with a demon in an instructor's uniform screaming murder behind me.
Not that I was suffering alone.
The track field was a battlefield—first-years in gym gear, red-faced and gasping, each one fighting for breath.
Gym class.
The cursed hour.
Today's joint session had one goal for us fresh meat: run until your legs hate you, then run some more.
