The door creaked open and the group stepped inside, dripping water across the polished floor. Their jackets clung heavily to their shoulders, soaked from the storm outside. Gray tugged at his sleeve, feeling the fabric stick to his skin before muttering under his breath.
"These jackets are useful," he said, the words escaping almost absently, his tone a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion.
The reception area greeted them with a strange blend of comfort and alien sophistication. The wooden walls were lined with old abstarct paintings. Their surfaces humming faintly as though alive with current. Subtle veins of light ran across them in geometric patterns, guiding their eyes toward the far end of the room where a sleek counter stood. Behind it sat a woman, her back straight, her hands gliding over an advanced computer system that emitted faint holographic projections above its surface. Strange metallic devices flickered softly on her desk, each one pulsing with restrained energy. The place looked like a school lobby, yet sharper, colder, more deliberate in its design.
A bell rang crisply the moment the door shut behind them. The sound snapped the woman's attention from her work. She swiveled her chair with mechanical precision, her lips stretching into a smile that was far too wide, far too perfect. Gray's stomach twisted at the sight. To him it didn't look warm at all, rather, it was the kind of smile a predator might wear when a mouse wandered into its den.
"Welcome," she said in a voice as smooth as flowing glass. "You've arrived at the Royal Kaelith Academy and Sanctuary."
Her hand gestured toward a small metallic device on the counter, no bigger than a palm. It hummed faintly, a slit glowing across its surface. "Please swipe your badges here."
The group exchanged a brief look before moving forward. One by one, they placed their badges over the device. A faint beep sounded with each swipe, and the woman's screen bloomed with details. Lines of text scrolled down rapidly, their profiles displaying themselves on her terminal as if she had known them all along.
Gray lingered at the end of the line, his brows furrowing as he caught sight of the projections. Information about him—things he had never written down, things he had never told anyone, flashed across her monitor. His name. His strain. Even his strain resonance percentage.
'How do they know all this?' he thought, unsettled. He was a nobody, a stray drifting from place to place. Yet here he was, his life dissected and displayed like a document they had owned for years.
After a brief pause, the woman gave a small nod as if satisfied. "Good," she said. "Follow me."
She rose from her chair, her movements precise, and stepped from behind the counter. Her heels clicked against the polished floor as she led them forward. The group fell in line, their wet footsteps trailing behind.
As they walked, the reception gave way to long corridors. Gray's eyes swept across them, trying to take everything in. Doors lined the walls, most of them sealed, but through a few windows he glimpsed massive halls that looked like classrooms.
Gray had only ever gone to a mandatory government school. Not to teach him things that would land him a job but rather things he needed to survive in Ironhold aswell as important information related to the world and how it worked.
Nothing about Nyxterra however.
He continued walking, analysing.
The classrooms weren't like any schoolroom he had ever seen. They stretched wide like arenas, their ceilings high, filled with structures he couldn't name. He watched as shadows moved within—students, perhaps, or something else entirely.
Still, despite the clean designs, despite the polished steel and subtle lights humming overhead, an unease began to coil in his chest. For all its modernity, something about the place felt… off. The lights didn't banish the shadows. They deepened them. Every echo of their footsteps seemed to bounce back too sharply, too deliberately, like the halls were listening.
Gray swallowed, his throat tight. That prickling sensation, eyes on him, unseen but heavy, clung to his back like a second skin. At last he couldn't hold it in.
"What is this place really?" he asked, his voice breaking the silence. His eyes flicked to the woman leading them. "What's an academy? And why call it a sanctuary if we're just being imprisoned here?"
The words made the others shift. Korr turned his head. Adels brow furrowed. Even Renn glanced over, as though the question echoed something they all had been quietly wondering.
The woman stopped mid-stride. For a moment her back was rigid, then she gave a soft, almost playful laugh. "You're not supposed to ask questions," she said, her tone half amused. "But since you dared, I'll answer just this once."
Her head tilted slightly as she looked back over her shoulder, her eyes glinting unnaturally. "This place is both an academy and a sanctuary. An academy is… a school, of sorts. Think of this one as a top-end kind. The best of the best."
Gray frowned. A school. The word felt too small for the creeping tension in these halls.
"And the sanctuary part?" he pressed.
Her smile lingered. "You're not being imprisoned without reason. There is a good one, though it isn't my place to explain. Ask the Council Head. She will tell you what you need to know."
"Council Head?" Gray asked.
She nodded. "Yes. You may think of her as the director here. Though she is far more than that."
The woman stopped suddenly, her hand rising to press against a set of tall double doors. She turned back, her expression shifting slightly, her tone dropping low. "When you step through these, you'll see something that might shock you. Stay quiet. Observe. And… be careful. Not everyone here is kind."
Gray blinked, confused. Before he could question her further, Korr stepped forward, impatience flashing in his movements. He shoved the doors open with a heavy push.
The chamber revealed itself in a rush of cold air.
Gray froze.
A massive hall stretched out before them, larger than anything he had imagined. At the far end stood a raised podium, tall and pristine. Atop it was a woman, her presence like a blade against the skin. Her hair shimmered with a blue he had never seen before, a pale iridescence that shifted faintly as though catching unseen light. Her eyes, cold and sharp, scanned the hall with detached indifference. Her skin was smooth, her frame slim, her posture so still it was almost statuesque. Gray found himself caught, his gaze unable to leave her. She radiated no energy, no visible strength, yet every fiber of his being screamed that she was more dangerous than anyone he had ever met.
Before her stretched countless rows of chairs, each one occupied. Children filled them, hundreds in total. They were seated in ordered lines, their attention half fixed on the podium, half curious about the newcomers.
To the sides, massive windows stretched from floor to ceiling, revealing the stormy weather clawing at the outside world. Lightning flickered faintly across the gray clouds. Along the walls, adults stood in silence, their faces shadowed, watching with piercing eyes.
Gray's heart pounded. He noticed quickly that the chairs nearer the front were occupied by older students, and their presence pressed against him like a suffocating weight. Their strength radiated even without intent, forcing his breath to hitch. Unlike the previous sanctuary, the diversity here was staggering. Lumen strains gleamed faintly with their radiance, while Wither strains cast darkness even in the light. The variety was overwhelming.
A man appeared at their side without warning, as if he had been standing there all along. He said nothing, only gestured toward a cluster of empty chairs at the very back.
The group obeyed, their footsteps echoing through the silence as countless eyes followed them. Each step felt heavier than the last until at last they sank into the waiting seats. Gray looked around, his chest tight. Every other chair was filled. They had arrived last.
The silence held. Then, without a microphone, without effort, the woman's voice carried effortlessly across the hall.
"Finally," she said, her tone smooth, unwavering. "We can begin."
Gray focused on her, trying to steady his breathing, when something flickered at the corner of his eye. His head turned slightly. Across the hall, seated alone on the opposite row, was a boy.
The sight made Gray's skin crawl.
The boy's hair was pure white, like untouched snow under moonlight. His posture was still, unnaturally so. And then, as though sensing Gray's gaze, the boy slowly turned his head.
Their eyes met.
Empty. White. Hollow.
The gaze held him, freezing his thoughts mid-flow. The storm outside seemed to vanish. The voices in the chamber dulled. All that existed in that instant were those eyes—vacant yet endless, swallowing Gray's breath whole.