The students gathered in the auditorium, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. Islyl walked alone to a seat somewhere in the middle, biting his lips with anticipation. This world is so cool! He thinks to himself. Its so cool to see a different place from the modern world. Yes, most of the world is gone. But the excitement, and the feel of the plot just fills me with fascination. I glance around the auditorium, the room is filled with a mix of different students, from first years to seniors. Some are sitting quietly, while others are pacing and fidgeting. The atmosphere seems mixed with teenage angst and excitement, as they all wait for the dean to arrive at the podium.
The auditorium is a large spacious room with rows of chairs arranged in a semi-circle around a stage. The walls are decorated with various runes and banners, and the lights shining are magic stones. The stage is lit up with a warm hue. The seats are arranged in tiers, with the backrows being higher than the lower rows. There are veils of magic everywhere, with several monitoring stones floating and following students.
The dean walks out onto the stage, his footsteps echoing through the auditorium. He is dressed in a sharp black suit; his chestnut brown hair is slicked back neatly. He looks calm and composed, but there is a hint of seriousness in his expression. The dean is a tall, handsome man. He is always dressed impeccably, with a stylish and fashionable sense. His demeanor is amiable and friendly, and he is known for being approachable and helpful to both students and staff. He is respected by all who know him, his calm and collected demeanor putting everyone at ease. It is also known to not cross him, or his people. He will go to bat for you, and drown you.
As he walks towards the podium, the students fall silent, watching him intently. He adjusts the microphone and clears his throat. The dean begins his speech, his voice deep and moving.
"Good afternoon, students. I want to thank you all for coming here today. I know that many of you are curious about why I have called you here, so I will get right to the point.
Congratulations on being accepted to our academy. I know that you are all excited to start your journey, and I want to encourage you to take full advantage of this opportunity. I am confident you will all succeed here. This academy is known for its rich history and tradition of excellence, producing several high rank hunters.
But do not forget to have fun as well. There will be plenty of opportunities for socializing and celebrating throughout your time here. In fact, we have arranged a small function for you after this speech. So, without further ado, enjoy your weekend, well see you after the weekend.
The deans figure blinked gold once, his figure dissipating, leaving the students to their own devices.
After the speech, the students wasted to time cliquing up, and playing icebreaker games. there were snacks and food items, several fried monster legs spread through out the platter. There were potion drinks, some with effects of happiness or excitement.
I sat in the same spot I sat for the speech; I am excited to meet some new classmates. I stood up, following the crowd of students around, introducing myself to everyone. I remembered to appear calm and collected, to act like a typical student. According to the plot, I attend this academy and grow close with several classmates. My betrayal a spy was a deep wound on several people. Ah, the stress of being a good spy!
'Can you please shut up?' a robotic voice said. 'I've been listening to your minds outrageous rambling for hours.'
"Sigma?"
'Yes who else would it be? Did you think id leave you here to do all the work and save the plot, when your braincells weren't even grown properly in the womb?'
'Anyways, Host. I am just telling you that right about now, Islyl would be heading towards the dean's office. Despite his friendly appearance, Host, he is your superior! He is a cunning and powerful shadow general who infiltrated the academy when it was first built, even attending it. The academy does not even realize that the protector is the betrayer.' Tsk
'Host, just follow the shadow energy left. Its only you who can detect it. He is waiting for you.'
The system disappeared as fast as it appeared.
***
Islyl walked through the halls of the academy, following the trail of shadow energy left by the dean. The energy is faint and hard to see, only shadow beings or those contracted to one can identify it. Islyl continued to track and follow the trail. Ask he walked, his mind replayed the memories of the original Islyl and the dean, courtesy of Sigma.
Islyl was isolated for weeks, locked in a small dark room with no access to the outside world. Being locked in the shadow realm in the dark was so unnerving. He had no idea how much time had passed, and he had lost track of what the days were. Sometimes he couldn't tell the year. He was given only the bare minimum of food and water, left alone any other time. Magic would automatically clean his body three times a day. The isolation had taken a toll on Islyl's mind after months off silence. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. After disobeying his superior, he was thrown into isolation for six months. After losing sense of space and time, with his powers sealed, he started to go crazy. Sitting in the dark empty room, the walls started to talk to him. He couldn't see them, but the darkness would move around, sinister figures popping out the wall. They clowned him, mocked him, degrading his ability. His hallucinations started to get worse, the shadows moving in the corners of the room, whispers and footsteps echoing. A dark figure appears above him, its face twisted and grotesque. Its smile spread wide; its teeth serrated like a chainsaw. The shadow creature would appear every night, tormenting him. Vivid pictures of the shadow creature holding Islyl down, his face against the pillow. His teeth ate into Islyl, eating up the spilling blood. No matter how much he screamed, it didn't stop. The hallucinations never stopped, every night he was violated and drained. After a while, the shadow being would change, with him being mounted by a new one. Some were more deadly than others, but that didn't change the fact that all they wanted was his blood. The humans would injure the shadow beings in the human realms, and the shadows would be brought back to heal. His blood being AB negative healed them, a simple diluted drop on their tongue would help heal them. But some were too strong, or just had the power and means to request a 'direct extraction.'
Islyl tries to scream, but no sound comes out. He scrambles backwards, the black figures haunting his dreams seemed to have broken him. The figure reaches out with a clawed hand and touches Islyl's face. He is frozen in fear, tears falling on his pale face. The creature laughs, a cold cruel sound skulking in the dark background.
When the dean finally came to get him after his punishment, he was weak and disoriented. He was so grateful to see the dean that he fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. From that moment on, Islyl was completely submissive to the dean. He did everything he was told to do, without question or hesitation. He was always at his set spot on his knees, at the deans' feet.
Time passed, the scenes playing during the length of Islyl's life in the shadow realm.
The last scene showed to him, Islyl knelt at the deans' feet in submission as the dean held his head up by his chin, fingers pressing into the pale skin. The dean is sitting in a large chair, looking down at him with a mixture of satisfaction and disdain. He was proud of the toy he trained, able to serve me in any way. He is always at his disposal, ready to do what the dean asks of him. He cleans the office, as well as takes care any personal needs. Islyl doesn't mind being controlled, he feels safe and secure with the dean. Deep down he knows he's just a pawn, but he is ready to play his part- he knows his loyalty comes at a high price.
The scene fades to black, and the recording of Islyl's memories end. He is still walking through the hall, feeling a mix of emotions. What a pity, this child called Islyl. He was so grateful to the dean who caused his suffering in the first place, only becoming a well-trained toy, who could only think of the life he could have had occasionally. He was the perfect raised sacrifice. Cannon fodder at its finest.