Gray couldn't tear his gaze away. Those eyes, blank, white, hollow, felt like they had pierced straight into him, stripping his thoughts bare.
"Wha—" The word slipped silently in his mind before he even realized.
But then, just as suddenly, the boy turned his head back to the front. The motion was quiet, final, like nothing had happened at all. Gray blinked once, then twice, and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. Had he imagined it? The heaviness in his chest lingered, but the boy sat still now, shoulders rigid, unmoving like a statue.
"Gray."
He flinched slightly as Renn bumped him with an elbow. His friend leaned in, whispering with concern. "You alright?"
"Yeah." Gray forced the word out quickly, brushing off the moment with a small shake of his head. "I'm fine."
But he wasn't fine. The weight of those eyes clung to him, even as he forced his attention back to the front of the hall.
At that moment, the woman on the podium stepped forward. The cold sharpness of her gaze swept across the sea of students before she spoke, her voice carrying easily to every corner of the massive chamber.
"Welcome," she said, her tone smooth, unwavering. "Welcome to the Royal Kaelith Academy and Sanctuary."
Her words struck with a quiet finality, as though they alone sealed every door in the hall.
"I am Seraphine Kaelith," she continued, placing a hand lightly over her chest. "Council Head of this sanctuary and academy both. If there are issues among you, you bring them to me."
Gray narrowed his eyes slightly. The title, Council Head, clung in his thoughts.
"The Council," Seraphine went on, "is not one person, but a group. We are those who oversee the preservation of strained kind in this place, the laws that bind us, and the paths each of you walk. Think of us as… a spine. Without it, this place would collapse. You may not see every part of it, but it holds everything upright."
Her tone shifted as she raised her chin. "Now listen carefully. This place is not only meant to teach you about yourselves and each other. It is also meant to keep you, newly awakened, raw, and unstable, from going unseen and falling to ruin. You are here to learn control. To learn survival."
Gray swallowed hard, his throat dry. Her words were steady, yet the meaning behind them pressed against him like iron shackles.
Then her eyes softened slightly, and she drew in a deep breath. For the first time, she looked almost human, as though weighed down by something even she could not cast aside.
"The reason you were sent out on your expedition…" she paused, silence tightening the room, "…was to eliminate the weak."
The words struck like a blade.
Gasps rippled across the hall. Murmurs followed, dozens of voices tangled together in disbelief.
Gray's lips parted, his voice escaping as little more than a whisper. "To… eliminate the weak?"
It sounded brutal. Too brutal. A punishment rather than a test. His mind twisted around the thought, unable to understand. Why recruit them only to cut them down? Why pull them in, gather them like this, if only to break them apart? It made no sense. And yet, it did. Because hadn't he seen it himself? The weak never lasted. The world chewed them apart and left only corpses.
But still, this. This was too much.
Seraphine's voice cut through the murmurs like a whip. "It was necessary," she said firmly, her gaze sweeping across the hall. "Absolutely necessary. And one day, you will understand why."
No explanation followed. She offered no comfort, no further words to soften the blow. She simply moved forward.
"You are not free here," she continued, her voice calm once more. "At least not yet. In time, you will undergo further expeditions—or rather, missions, as we call them. Each one will test you more than the last."
Gray's hands curled into fists against his knees. His teeth ground together. Missions. Expeditions. Words dressed up to hide what they really were. Slaughter, tests of survival, designed to crush the unfit, and he hated every bit of it.
Her eyes flicked toward him then, sharp and deliberate. Gray froze as her gaze lingered. For a single moment, he swore she saw through him, his hatred, his rebellion, his refusal to accept the chains she so calmly wrapped around them.
But she didn't speak it aloud. She only looked, and then looked away.
"Those who reach Rank Three or pass specific testings," Seraphine said, her tone dropping into a near whisper though it still carried across the hall, "will be allowed to go free. To return to their lives. To live as they choose."
The room erupted again. Whispers, murmurs, disbelief. Hope flickered in some, suspicion in others.
Gray said nothing. But deep in his chest, he knew the truth. They would be fools to believe it. Rank Three wasn't something easily reached. For most, it was a distant dream. A lie dressed as a reward. And those "specific testings" would be equally as hard.
He doubted it heavily. He doubted her most of all.
Seraphine's voice grew sharp again, cutting through the chaos. "Until that day comes, every one of you will remain here. This will be your place of growth. Your crucible."
She paused then, her gaze sweeping once more across the hall. "Remember this: strength is the only currency in this world. And it is the only currency here."
The finality of her words left the room in silence.
Then, with a small gesture of her hand, the adults who lined the walls began to move. One by one, they stepped forward, their eyes scanning badges, their hands motioning students out of their chairs. Slowly the younger ones rose, shuffling toward exits in ordered lines.
Gray's group moved together. Lira kept silent, her face unreadable. Renn's hands twitched nervously at his sides until Gray leaned over and muttered, "It's fine. Stay calm." Adel and Korr glanced at him, their voices low.
"We should find each other later," Adel whispered.
"Yeah," Korr agreed. "We will."
Gray gave a faint nod.
One by one, they were led away. Until at last, Gray found himself the last among them.
A man approached, he was tall, shoulders broad beneath a soaked black coat that seemed heavier than it should be. His face was cut by sharp lines, a jaw that looked carved from stone, eyes gray and clouded like the skies outside. A streak of silver ran through his dark hair, giving him the air of someone hardened by years of duty. His voice carried no warmth when he finally spoke.
His steps soundless despite his heavy boots. He looked at Gray's badge, his eyes flicking across the etched details before he spoke. "Follow."
Gray stood slowly, the weight of countless gazes pressing into his back.
He walked toward the doors. As he neared them, he felt her eyes again. Seraphine Kaelith. The Council Head. Watching him. Not with malice. But with curiosity.
The doors loomed ahead, and as they opened, the storm-light beyond bled into the chamber. The man guiding him moved forward, but just before the doors closed behind him, Gray's ears caught her voice once more.
This time, she wasn't speaking to the hall. She wasn't speaking to him. She was speaking to the oldest group still seated at the front, the ones who hadn't moved, who hadn't been escorted.
"Are you all ready," Seraphine said, her voice calm as a blade, "for your final mission?"
Gray's throat tightened as the words lingered in his ears.' Final mission?' His stomach sank. It would mean the kids that sat at the front were about to undergo hell. True hell.
The man leading him glanced over his shoulder.
"You alright, kid?"
Gray blinked and forced a nod, the lie dry on his tongue. "Yeah."
The man said nothing more, but the silence that followed was worse than any question. Their footsteps echoed against the polished stone floor as they moved. Each corridor they passed felt endless, the windows streaked with rain that distorted the world outside into a blur of gray and water. Gray's own reflection stared faintly back at him in each pane, pale and hollow-eyed.
The halls were as deserted as before. Just the two of them in a world that felt emptied out. They passed door after door, some open, revealing dark classrooms lined with chalkboards and empty seats, others shut tight as though sealing away forgotten lessons. The air carried a faint dampness, like the stone itself had absorbed centuries of rainfall.
The man's pace never faltered. Up a flight of stairs they went, the climb carrying them into a quieter hall. Here the layout changed. No classrooms, no lecture spaces, just a line of sealed doors stretching into shadow. The corridor felt different, heavier, like the walls knew secrets Gray wasn't supposed to touch.
Finally the man stopped in front of one. A panel glowed faintly on the wall. He pulled out a key card and scanned it across the surface. The door clicked softly, a mechanical hum fading as it unlocked. He pressed the card into Gray's hand, his eyes narrowing slightly as if measuring him one last time.
"Inside," the man said flatly. "You'll find a bed, a desk, and a computer. You'll be staying alone." His voice carried no hint of sympathy, only instruction. "The computer is for research purposes only. Don't try anything else, alright?"
Gray gave a slow nod, gripping the card.
The man continued, his tone unchanging. "On the desk, there should be your new wristband. You'll need to log into the computer and complete the setup before you rest. Orders."
He turned without waiting for Gray's reply, boots striking the floor with dull finality. No farewell, no reassurance. Just silence and the steady sound of him walking away.
Gray stayed still for a moment, watching the figure shrink into the distance until the man turned a corner and vanished. Alone.
Only then did Gray breathe out, a shallow sound he hadn't realized he was holding. He tightened his grip on the card, pulled at the handle, and stepped inside his room.
The door closed with a muted hiss, leaving him in the stillness.