The weeks rolled by one after another, and what once felt strange slowly turned into a rhythm Ethan didn't even have to think about anymore. The sudden shift to the academy—its huge halls, unfamiliar classrooms, and strange new subjects—had shocked him at first, but routine wrapped around everything like a quiet blanket.
Even though the minimum attendance requirement was only seventy-five percent, Ethan never skipped a single class. Not once.
Every morning he woke before the alarm, got ready, and walked through the academy gates with the same calm determination. No matter how sleepy he felt or how tired his body was, he showed up.
His old life had been different—very different—and maybe that was why he held on to these classes so tightly. This first fragment of his life had changed, reshaped, and rebuilt itself, and he didn't intend to waste a second of it.
Each subject came with its own challenges. Some teachers spoke too fast, others gave too much homework, some liked experiments while some preferred long explanations.
But Ethan took them all seriously. He filled pages with notes, listened carefully, and stayed back after class if something felt unclear. He never let his mind drift. The boy who once moved carelessly now moved with a quiet purpose.
But with all those changes came something strange—loneliness. In his previous life, he had many friends, too many even. His phone never stopped ringing, someone always wanted to hang out, joke around, or drag him somewhere. Now? His circle was tiny, almost fragile.
Amanda was still there, but their bond was not what it used to be. They weren't the inseparable pair who laughed at everything and shared secrets without thinking. Their conversations were shorter, lighter, sometimes awkward even. Not out of discomfort, but because Ethan simply wasn't the same.
Most of his time was swallowed by studies, and whatever little remained belonged to his little sister.
He chose to spend it with her every single time. He helped her with assignments, listened to her stories, cooked with her, and made sure she always felt safe. In this new life, she mattered more than anything.
By the time the first month passed, the academy started to feel familiar. He knew the paths, the schedules, the faces, and the routine so well that the confusion of the early days faded away.
And as the new month arrived, the world outside shifted too.
The warm winds of late summer slowly faded. The sky turned softer, almost pale, as the season leaned into a gentle, quiet autumn. The southern hemisphere welcomed cold breezes every morning, brushing past the academy walls and through the courtyard trees.
Leaves turned darker shades of brown and orange, falling in slow spirals whenever the wind stirred them. Students wrapped themselves in thicker clothes, rubbed their hands together, and walked faster between classes to escape the chill.
Ethan felt the cold each day as he stepped outside, but he also felt something else—stability. The world around him was changing, cooling, settling, but inside him, things finally felt steady.
The routine, the classroom hours, the quiet evenings with his sister, the smaller friendships… they built a new life piece by piece.
....
The morning had started like any other, quiet and calm, the kind of calm that made Ethan believe—just for a moment—that life had finally settled. After weeks of shifting, adjusting, learning, and rebuilding, he finally felt steady. Every day looked the same now: same routine, same classes, same walk across the academy courtyard. And strangely, that sameness made him feel safe.
He stood outside his little sister's dorm room with his usual soft smile. She always took longer to get ready, always rushed at the last second, always complained about mornings. It was a habit he had grown used to.
He rang the doorbell twice.
Ding—dong… ding—dong.
"Elara!" he called, leaning forward. "Come on, we'll be late."
Silence.
He frowned slightly but wasn't worried yet. Maybe she was brushing her teeth. Maybe she was still tying her hair. Maybe—
He rang again. "Elara? Hey, open the door."
No answer.
A strange thought passed through his head—too quick, almost silly.
What if she's still sleeping?
A small laugh escaped him before he could stop it. It burst out suddenly, uncontrollable.
"Pfft—Haha—Hahaha—Elara, don't tell me you're still sleeping," he chuckled, shaking his head. "You little lazy bum."
He reached into his pocket automatically. He always kept the spare dorm card with him—something the academy allowed for family members. He had collected it on the first day, thinking nothing of it at the time.
He swiped it.
Beep—click.
The door unlocked.
Still smiling, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The warm scent of lavender—his sister's favorite air freshener—floated lightly through the room. Her slippers were near the bed. Her blanket lay half-folded. Everything looked normal.
But the air felt… off. A strange stillness clung to the room.
"Elara?" he called again, softer now.
He walked toward her room, steps slow, heavy for some reason he couldn't name.
He reached her door. Pushed it open.
And the world broke.
"AaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHH—E…Elaraaaa—"
His voice cracked apart.
His sister—his little sister—was hanging from the ceiling's metal hanger, her small feet dangling, her head tilted sideways, lifeless. The rope dug deep into her neck, purple marks staining her skin.
For a heartbeat, Ethan didn't move.
He couldn't.
His brain refused to believe what his eyes were seeing.
Then everything inside him shattered.
"No… No… No, no, no, no… Elara… Elara, I…I—I'm here." His voice trembled uncontrollably as he stumbled forward, knees hitting the floor. "I was… I was with you… I was right here… Why didn't you—why didn't you tell me?"
Tears blurred his vision until he couldn't see anything clearly. His hands shook as he reached out but didn't dare touch her. He couldn't touch her. If he touched her, then it would be real. If he touched her, then she would truly be gone.
His breath broke into harsh gasps.
"I'm here… I'm here, Elara… I—"
Words dissolved into sobs.
His entire body trembled as he pressed his forehead onto the cold floor, voice cracking again and again. The sound coming out of him was nothing human—only raw pain, ripped straight from the center of his soul.
His scream pierced the hallway.
After some time ...
Doors opened.
Footsteps rushed.
Students gathered, drawn by the noise and the open door. A girl from the neighboring room—the same girl who had spoken to Elara a few times—stepped inside hesitantly. She entered through the already opened door and went towards Elara's room .
But what she saw froze her blood.
Elara hung lifeless.
And Ethan…
Ethan was laughing.
In a dark corner of the room laughing like a maniac,
It was a laugh with no sanity behind it. A laugh that echoed sharp and terrifying against the walls as tears streamed down his face.
His hands covered his eyes as he laughed and cried at the same time, back pressed to the corner of the room, body shaking violently.
The neighbor girl gasped, hand flying to her mouth. Others stumbled back, horrified, whispering, panicking, shouting for teachers.
Within minutes the hallway was chaos.
Within an hour, the world outside the academy knew.
---
STAR NEWS — BREAKING NEWS
"Breaking news from Astral Academy," the anchor announced, voice urgent. "A first-semester student identified as Elara has been found dead in her dorm room. Cause of death appears to be suicide."
Screens across the city lit up with her photo.
Reporters spoke rapidly.
"The main suspect is her brother, Ethan, also an academy student, who was discovered at the scene. As he had special access to her dorm room, authorities are considering him a prime suspect while investigations continue."
The words repeated again and again.
Prime suspect.
In police custody.
Hero Association involved.
Central government monitoring.
Every news channel replayed the same images on loop: A covered body. Police cars. A blurry shot of Ethan being led away, eyes empty.
Across the city, the world kept watching.
---
In a dim dorm room on the other side of the academy, Amanda sat frozen on her bed. The lights were off, the curtains drawn. Only the blue glow of the television lit her face.
Breaking news… breaking news… breaking news…
Elara's name. Ethan's name.
Her chest tightened painfully as the screen repeated the story for the seventh time.
"No…" she whispered.
Her eyes filled until tears slid down her cheeks silently.
"No, no… Ethan… he… he would never…"
Her phone buzzed nonstop—mostly Cole calling again and again—but she couldn't move her hands. Couldn't answer. Couldn't even speak.
She pressed a hand to her mouth, tears dripping through her fingers.
"It can't be true," she whispered to the empty room. "He would never hurt her. Never."
Her voice broke.
"Not Ethan… Not him…"
But the screen kept flashing the same news, and the world kept believing the same lie.