"Mom, I'm off!" Vibe's voice rang like a bell of fire, sharp and bright against the early morning hush. She dashed toward the school bus, her form slicing through the golden sunlight, each stride perfectly timed, each motion radiating energy and purpose. The breeze tangled in her hair like threads of flame, and even the leaves seemed to lean in to watch her passage.
Jin-nah and Rose were already seated, their eyes glimmering with a mix of mischief and awe. "So… what's up? Did Princey call you, or did he send a message?" Rose teased, voice lilting with teasing curiosity.
"Yeah, spill the details! We deserve the gist!" Jin-nah leaned forward, her fingers drumming against the seat.
Vibe paused mid-step, eyes narrowing with the calm precision of a general preparing her army. Her voice dropped to a commanding edge, slicing through the morning chatter. "Stop. This week… this week is not for jokes or gossip. It's for proving ourselves. Studying, meditation, honing our spirit… we will rise as proud members of our clan. That is all.
...
Jin-nah's composure crumbled, and tears traced silent paths down her cheeks. "So… inspiring…" she whispered, voice trembling with both awe and a strange, fierce longing.
Vibe strode into the inner chamber of the academy. The air shifted instantly—weighty, expectant. The room was lined with ornate chairs like silent sentinels, and nine men—the heads of clans—sat in perfect formation, suits immaculate, eyes sharp and unyielding. Each breath, each movement, was measured, as if the entire world had condensed into this single moment of observation.
Yaomie, the instructor, stepped forward. Her presence was magnetic, authoritative, and even the sun outside seemed to pause, light bending toward her. "Round two… commence."
"What's happening out there, Woame?" Mr. Seung-woo's voice was low, laced with curiosity.
Yaomie's lips curved into a knowing, almost mischievous smile. "You want to see how we train our future princesses and princes? Then watch closely. Every moment is a lesson."
Nagant's smirk glinted like steel. "It's not over yet, girls. Don't celebrate prematurely."
Rose lifted her hand, signaling Somwaa to halt. But the ground betrayed them—the earth trembled violently and, with a force that seemed to tear reality itself, it vomited the boys back onto the battlefield. The clan heads rose in immediate respect; even in restraint, Rose's control over the field was undeniable.
Mr. Kasue entered, eyes narrowing as subtle danger flickered through his gaze. A whisper left his lips: "Something… this is not ordinary."
Before he could react, the ground split again. Hundreds of thousands of blades erupted from the soil, light bending along their edges, singing in an invisible symphony of power. The air became thick with energy, the sky itself quivering as if holding its breath.