The outsider dorms were nothing like the polished clan halls.
Cracked stone walls, flickering lamps, and creaking beds filled the narrow space. A handful of youths lounged there—sub-clan heirs with guarded eyes, two real-world strays whispering nervously, and a lean boy against the wall, his stare sharp as a blade.
When Akihiro entered, every head turned.
"Isn't that the one who came with Ayame Shirakami?" someone muttered.
"But he doesn't wear a clan sigil…"
"Then he's nothing. Just another stray."
Akihiro ignored them, though the words stung sharper than he wished to admit. His mother's calm voice stirred inside his chest:
Do not waste strength on words. The path will answer for you.
The Hall of Reflections
The next morning, hundreds of students gathered before the Hall of Reflections, its walls gleaming like liquid glass, rippling faintly as if alive.
The headmaster's robe swept the floor as he raised his hand. His aura bent the air, lightning threads crackling faintly around him.
"The mirror does not lie," he declared, his voice echoing through the courtyard. "It will show you what you fear most. Break your reflection, and you prove your worth. Fail… and remain an outsider forever."
A hush fell. Some students trembled; others smirked with bravado. The mirrors waited, patient and merciless.
Ayame's Trial
Ayame stepped forward first. Her reflection formed in the glass—not herself, but a monstrous beast with jaws dripping shadow, lunging at her clan.
Without hesitation, Ayame's blade sang. Her energy flared, crisp and deadly, and in one clean strike the beast shattered into shards of glass that dissolved back into the floor.
The courtyard erupted in cheers.
"As expected of the Shirakami heir!"
"Such precision—her path is clear."
Ayame lowered her blade with grace. For a heartbeat, her eyes found Akihiro's—quiet encouragement in her gaze—before she returned to her place.
Akihiro's Trial
Then it was his turn.
Akihiro stepped into the hall, the weight of silence pressing down. At first, he saw only himself. Then the reflection warped.
A dark silhouette emerged—taller, heavier, its crimson eyes blazing with malice. Its aura crushed the air, suffocating, alien.
Akihiro's pulse spiked. His hands trembled as he forced his meager energy to flare. The spark pulsed once, weak against the suffocating presence. The shadow didn't crack.
Then his chest seared. The seal Cai Lin had placed on him flared faintly, violet-gold light spilling into the glass. His reflection rippled—and dissolved into mist.
Not by his strength. By hers.
Gasps broke the silence. Then laughter followed, sharp and merciless.
"He didn't even break it himself!"
"Pathetic—he's weaker than the other strays!"
"To stand with the Shirakami and collapse like that—disgraceful!"
Akihiro staggered out, fists trembling. His heart thundered in shame. Was that me? Or… something worse waiting inside me?
Sola's Suspicion
One figure did not laugh.
Sola Hoshikawa's golden eyes narrowed as she replayed what she had seen. The light was not Akihiro's own. It was foreign, precise… deliberate.
"That wasn't raw power," she murmured. "That was a seal."
Her gaze lingered on him as he passed, trembling but silent. A faint smile tugged her lips—not mockery, but curiosity edged with unease.
"Who sealed you, Akihiro Tsukihara? And why would someone want to hide you from us?"
The Dean's Chamber
As the courtyard emptied, a voice cut sharp through the noise:
"Akihiro Tsukihara. The Dean summons you."
Two guards stepped forward, eyes hard, and escorted him up the glass stairway into the high hall.
The Dean's chamber was lined with mirrors. Each surface quivered faintly as if listening. The man himself sat on a high seat, his aura heavy and storm-laden, arcs of lightning twitching at his fingertips.
"Sit," he commanded.
Akihiro obeyed, muscles taut. The Dean's gaze pierced straight through him. For a long, heavy silence, only the mirrors rippled.
Finally, the Dean spoke, voice low and cutting:
"During your trial, a seal stirred. Not your own. Whose power was it?"
Akihiro's mouth went dry. His mother's whisper urged inside him: Be careful. The wrong word will brand you, their enemy.
"I… I don't know," he said carefully. "I only know… something saved me."
The Dean leaned back slowly, eyes unreadable, as if weighing the truth in his silence. His words came soft but edged with steel:
"There are whispers of a queen beyond the mirrors. Tell me, boy… has she touched you?"
Akihiro's fists clenched, anger spiking through his fear. "No. I don't even know why this curse follows me. I only want to grow stronger."
The Dean's stare lingered long, oppressive, before he spoke:
"Very well. Then grow. But know this—one false step, and you will not be corrected. You will be erased."
Closing Cliffhanger
As Akihiro was led out, his gaze flicked to the mirrored walls.
For the briefest instant, another face stared back—silver hair flowing, violet-gold eyes gleaming. Cai Lin.
Her lips moved, silent but sharp: Do not trust them.
His chest tightened as the doors closed. Mocked by peers, distrusted by leaders, haunted by the Mirror Queen's shadow—Akihiro realized he was no longer just an outsider.
He was a suspect in a war he didn't yet understand.