As the trio walked through the metallic, Nefarium-lined hallways of Darkspire High School, Devian piped up, bursting with excitement.
"Oh, are you two going to the Underground Fight Club this Saturday?"
"What for?"
Lilith's voice was distant, her mind still elsewhere, contemplating the upcoming milestone in Daseos's life.
Devian's eyes lit up, animated by the thought of the imminent fight.
"What? Ya'll haven't heard? In the main event this weekend, [5] is going up against a T1 Villain!!!"
Lilith's eyes widened, and her attention was finally yanked back to the present.
"[5]? The masked rising star of the Pre-Villain League? He's not even a full villain yet. Going up against a T1 is like a deathwish!"
Devian chuckled, his chest puffing up a bit as he defended his Fight Club hero.
"Hah! That's what makes this so exciting! And you better put some respect on [5]'s name! If anyone can pull this off, it's him!"
Devian's eyes twinkled like a schoolgirl's, a strange sight considering his muscular towering exterior.
[5]'s rise to stardom meant something special to him.
As a kid who was bullied as a child, who then grew to become physically so different from anyone else, [5], like many other Villain gladiators in the FIght Club showed him a path to perhaps being more… accepted.
As Devian continued to fan-girl over [5], Daseos found it odd, yet endearing.
A guy built like a tank, swooning like he was at a pop concert.
It was moments like these that reminded Daseos that even in a world of villains, everyone had layers, some just hid them better than others.
"Oh man, I can't wait to see my idol [5] in action. It's gon' be epic!" Devian exclaimed.
Goosebumps crawled over Daseos' skin, looking at the gorilla of man that was Devian fan-girling over him.
Lilith eyed Devian, then turned to Daseos.
"So, this [5] character... if Devian's so pumped about it, maybe it's worth a watch, you think?"
As Devian and Lilith prattled on about [5], Daseos's heart raced.
It was like hearing people praise a ghost—because that's what [5] was, a ghost of his own making.
Was he proud? Annoyed? Definitely conflicted.
Keeping his secret identity while hearing his friends talk about it was a weird kind of torture.
Luckily, they had already reached the gym by now.
"Uhh… We're here,"
Daseos quickly changed the topic, eager to steer away from Devian's idol worship… of himself.
"I wonder what Fiszure has in store for us…"
Daseos said, his eyes landing on the obsidian floor of the gym.
They had arrived at the gym, nicknamed the Arena of Dread, the part-training ground, part-battlefield for Darkspire High's aspiring villains.
As they stepped inside a shiver coursed through Daseos's spine.
The atmosphere was charged, a potent mix of tension and anticipation that clung to the obsidian walls like a second skin.
Almost immediately, the trio noticed a tall figure standing at the center of the arena.
It was Fiszure, a man who seemed to exist in a world of contradictions.
His baggy charcoal gray suit looked like it could belong in a boardroom, not a combat zone.
Yet, despite its loose fit, a thick chain slightly protruded near his elbow—just enough to catch the eye if you were paying attention.
Beside him stood Principal Elder Stillwater, his stern gaze scanning the room.
The principal's presence added a gravity to the room, but it was clear who commanded the students' attention.
Devian's eyes widened.
"That's him, right? Fiszure? Man, he even makes a baggy suit look good."
A group of girls huddled near the possessed climbing ropes, their chatter animated yet hushed.
One sighed dreamily.
"Oh my gosh, look at Fiszure. That pocket square? So chic,"
One girl said, her eyes practically turning into hearts.
"Chic? Are you kidding? He's a masterpiece. And those chains, ugh, they make him so mysterious,"
Another added, looking like she might faint.
Her friend giggled, lifting a hand weight that morphed into a kettlebell mid-air.
"Screw his looks! I heard he almost destroyed the arena at Darkspire Villain Ascendancy."
Groups of Fiszure's fangirls crowded around the facilities surrounding the central aresna.
Possessed climbing ropes coiled like serpents waiting to strike, near them shapeshifting weights morphed into different forms, tempting anyone daring enough to lift them. Balance beams twisted and snaked around unpredictably, almost as if they were alive.
As the trio approached, Fiszure turned, and Daseos noticed the thick chain necklace against his collar.
It looked more like a weapon than jewelry, starkly contrasting with his otherwise impeccable appearance.
The chain was darker than night, each link almost a finger in width.
They stopped at a respectable distance, waiting for whatever came next.
Fiszure swept his gaze over the eager young faces before him, and for a split second, the atmosphere thickened with anticipation.
"Welcome, my future colleagues,"
Fiszure's voice was calm, almost charming.
"In a few days, you'll all face the Villain Ascendancy Trials. Principal Stillwater has kindly invited me here to share the wisdom I've gained from my own trials last year. I've returned for one reason—to help you succeed!"
As if on command, raucous applause and cheers erupted from the crowd, filling the obsidian-lined arena with a wall of sound.
"Fiszure, you're my idol!" a fangirl yelled, her enthusiasm barely contained.
"He could make me do anything, and I'd thank him for it!" Another fangirl declared, lust oozing from every word.
Beside Fiszure, Principal Stillwater maintained an expressionless facade, but inwardly he grumbled,
'Ten grand for this charade? That man could sell ice to an ice mage. Beware the villain who wears a suit. Hmph! Ingrate! Hypocrite!''
His face revealed none of this, though, as he scanned the crowd of eager students.
While Fiszure looked like the picture of respectability, Stillwater knew all too well the underhanded villainy that lurked beneath that polished exterior.
As the crowd erupted, Elder Stillwater's eyes locked onto Fiszure, face unreadable but fingers clenched tightly around his ceremonial staff.
But, as much as it pained him, the man did have valuable insights for the students. Insights worth, apparently, a small fortune.
The Principal pushed aside his monetary lamentations; this was about something greater—the future of young villains, the legacy of Antagonia.
Blah Blah Blah~
Elder Stillwater's eyes darted across the room.
'The war is getting more intense and the Ministry has suddenly decided to go on a man-hunt to find corrupted officials to make examples of, I'd be damned if I end up one of em','
He thought, gripping his staff tighter.
The truth was—Elder Stillwater had siphoned a lot of the resources the Ministry of Education had distributed to Darkspire High throughout these years…
It was… a 'perk' of the job.
But if Darkspire High didn't churn out some top-tier villain prospects this time round, it would be more than just his job in jeopardy.
His head would be on the chopping block—literally.