On the 8th floor of the Phoenix Spire, nestled within Zenith Academy's most exclusive wing, lay the private apartments reserved for the top ten first-year cadets. Lavish, grand, and exuding a regal atmosphere, these spaces were considered the epitome of elite privilege.
Inside one such apartment, the spacious living room was unusually quiet. Five figures sat on the velvet sofas: Charlotte, Seraphina, Ethan, Alden, and Ava. None of them spoke.
The air was heavy—thick with unspoken guilt, regret, and tension.
And the reason for that suffocating atmosphere?
A silver-haired boy sat cross-legged at the center coffee table, calmly munching on snacks like the emotional weight in the room didn't concern him at all.
Alex.
He casually picked up another piece of buttered breadstick, dipping it into sauce with perfect precision, completely ignoring the awkward silence.
Then, without even glancing up, he smirked.
