The Fall Ball had been delightful—for a moment. The three girls had, in their unspoken way, coordinated perfectly, taking turns to dance with me in a manner that avoided any unnecessary drama. It was one of those rare nights where I felt like maybe, just maybe, I could let my guard down.
But of course, peace was always a fleeting dream. The first hint came from Luna, her voice sharp in my mind.
Then, Lilith Windward moved. Faster than anyone in the room, her sword flashed into her hand as her mana surged in an instinctive response.
The soft, deliberate clinking of heels echoed across the ballroom, silencing the murmur of conversation. The tension in the air became palpable, every head turning toward the source. I didn't need to see her face to feel the dread creeping up my spine.
I'd heard those footsteps before.
'Still playing the same old theatrics,' I thought bitterly, my hands tightening into fists as my gaze lifted. And there she was— Alyssara Velcroix.
"Hello~" she called, her voice as smooth and melodic as a lullaby. For a moment, it seemed as though the entire world bent to her presence. The chandelier above cast its light just so, illuminating her crimson dress, her flowing pink hair, and jade-green eyes that seemed to hold the secrets of existence itself.
She was breathtaking. She was terrifying. She was obsessive.
Her jade eyes found me, and I felt as though the weight of her fixation could crush my very soul. It wasn't the kind of pressure that came from overwhelming mana or raw strength. It was something deeper, sharper—a predatory hunger that froze me to the spot.
The grip of Cecilia's hand on my arm brought me back to the present, grounding me as the rest of the ballroom held its collective breath. The professors tensed, poised to attack, but no one moved.
No one dared.
It was clear to everyone. Alyssara Velcroix was untouchable. If she wanted, she could obliterate Mythos Academy and everyone in it without so much as breaking a sweat. This was the power of a being who had stepped beyond the pinnacle, into the liminal space of transcendence.
A demigod.
And then she was in front of me. Space warped around her, folding her form across the room in an instant. The three girls froze beside me, their instinct to fight overwhelmed by the sheer futility of the idea. Alyssara was too far above them—above anyone here.
"You've grown stronger, Nightingale," she said, her voice rich and steady, but I could hear it—the undertone of obsession curling around every word. It wasn't admiration or respect. It was possession.
I forced myself to meet her gaze despite the primal fear clawing at my insides. Her jade eyes were like endless abysses, and the longer I stared, the more I felt as though I were being pulled into something far beyond my comprehension.
Stronger than before. How could she possibly have grown stronger?
'Fuck you, Art,' I thought, gritting my teeth.
"What do you want?" Lilith's voice broke the silence, her mana flaring in defiance. Her sword gleamed, but the futility of its presence hung heavy in the room.
Alyssara smirked, her lips curling into a smile that was equal parts amusement and menace. "Oh, I'm not here to fight," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I've just come to deliver something."
With a flick of her fingers, a thud echoed across the ballroom. Something fell to the polished marble floor.
Gasps rippled through the room as everyone turned to look.
It was a corpse. But not just any corpse.
Eva Lopez.
The Headmaster of Mythos Academy, missing for nearly a decade. A Radiant-ranker whose name had once inspired respect and fear in equal measure.
Her body lay crumpled on the ground, her silver hair now a lifeless grey, her once vibrant face pale and doll-like. There was no blood, no sign of violence—just a hollow, unnatural stillness that was even more unnerving than gore would have been.
"I thought she might want to join the festivities," Alyssara said, her voice lilting like a melody yet sharp as broken glass. Her jade eyes shimmered with an unsettling brightness as they fixed on mine. It was a gaze that demanded attention, impossible to look away from even as dread pooled in my stomach. She turned her head ever so slightly, feigning a casualness that only deepened the tension in the room. "And that master of yours... he wanted me to give you something."
The space around her rippled, a subtle distortion that made the edges of reality seem fragile. Then, as though summoned from the void itself, a dark blade materialized in her hand. My breath caught as recognition struck like a hammer.
Nyxthar.
The edgeless, blackened blade seemed to drink in the light of the ballroom, a void in the shape of a weapon. A Legendary-grade artifact, infamous and unmatched—a relic that even the strongest Radiant-rankers dared not covet lightly.
She held it up, turning it in her hand like it was a trinket. "Here," she said, her tone tinged with a mockery that made my skin crawl. "I sealed it for you. Now no one can wield it until you've reached Immortal-rank and proven worthy of its choice."
The words hung heavy in the air. My grip tightened at my sides as her gaze bore into me, her smile soft but insidious.
"And when that day comes…" She stepped closer, and her presence was like a blade pressed against my throat. Her voice dropped to a whisper, meant only for me. "Make sure, Arthur, that this sword—your sword—is the one that pierces my heart. Just as you promised."
The words hit me like a thunderclap. The weight of her obsession, her challenge, and her twisted trust all rolled into one devastating declaration. She winked, a casual, almost playful gesture that only made her words more chilling.
The room was silent, every eye locked on the artifact in her hand and the impossible woman who wielded it.
And then, as if the moment had never happened, Alyssara Velcroix stepped back. With a flick of her wrist, Nyxthar hovered in the air, gliding toward me before settling just an arm's length away. I didn't move to touch it, not yet. The blade exuded a cold, intangible pressure, even while sealed.
"There, now we're even," she said, her grin widening as though she'd done me a favor. "A promise is a promise, after all."
Space warped around her once more, the very fabric of existence bending to her will as she turned to leave. Before she vanished completely, her voice echoed one last time, laced with amusement and something deeper, darker.
"Don't keep me waiting too long, Arthur."