The air inside the House of Spades' main hall was thick with unspoken tension. A dozen students had gathered, all observing the quiet standoff between Noir Vale and Selene Avaris, the Queen of Spades.
The flickering blue lanterns along the dark stone walls cast eerie shadows over their faces, making the entire scene feel more like the prelude to an execution rather than an introduction.
Selene leaned back against the worn leather couch, still idly twirling her dagger between her fingers. Her blood-red eyes stayed locked onto Noir's, searching, measuring.
Then, she grinned.
"You've got nerve, Noir Vale."
Noir didn't respond immediately. Instead, he let a small smirk tug at the corner of his lips. "It's not nerve," he corrected. "It's calculated confidence."
A chuckle rippled through the gathered Spades.
Selene's grin widened. "I like that."
But then, her gaze sharpened. "Still, we can't have a new Ace waltzing in without proving his worth."
The moment those words left her mouth, Noir felt the shift in atmosphere. A test. A rite of passage.
This was expected.
Every House had its own hierarchy, and the House of Spades was no different.
Unlike the more structured House of Diamonds, which followed noble lineage, or the House of Clubs, where brute strength dictated status, the Spades operated on wit, cunning, and power.
And power had to be earned.
Selene rose from her seat, stretching lazily before cracking her neck. Then, she flipped the dagger in her hand and caught it by the blade, offering the hilt to Noir.
"One move."
Silence.
Noir looked at the dagger, then back at Selene.
"One move?" he echoed.
She smirked. "Impress me."
The room fell completely still.
Noir could feel the anticipation pressing down on him, the weight of a dozen gazes studying his every movement. This was a test—not just of skill, but of perception, of how he approached a challenge.
Selene was testing him.
If he refused, he'd be branded as weak.
If he attacked blindly, he'd be seen as reckless.
If he took too long to decide, he'd be considered indecisive.
Everything in the House of Spades was a game. And Noir loved games.
His ice-blue eyes flickered with amusement as he reached out and took the dagger. The metal was cool against his palm, perfectly balanced. He twirled it once, feeling its weight, memorizing the exact way it moved.
Selene didn't move.
She was relaxed—but not careless. Her stance was loose, her arms hanging by her sides, but Noir knew that was an illusion.
She was waiting.
Noir tightened his grip on the dagger. Then, in one smooth motion—
He flipped it in his hand and tossed it straight at her face.
Gasps filled the room.
Selene's eyes widened for half a second before she tilted her head at the last possible moment. The dagger sliced a single strand of her silver hair before embedding itself into the wooden wall behind her with a dull thunk.
Silence.
Then, slowly, Selene turned back to him.
And laughed.
A genuine, sharp laugh.
The tension broke instantly as she grinned at him, her red eyes burning with approval.
"You crazy bastard," she said between chuckles. "I knew I was gonna like you."
Noir merely shrugged, his expression unreadable. "You said one move."
Selene smirked. "And you took it."
The House of Spades burst into laughter.
Noir exhaled softly, his gamble had paid off.
By attacking directly, but deliberately missing, he had proven three things:
✔ He wasn't afraid to take a risk.
✔ He understood restraint.
✔ He knew how to control the battlefield.
Selene gave him an approving nod. "Welcome to the House of Spades, Noir Vale."
Later that night, Noir stood on the balcony of the Spades dormitory, watching the twilight horizon of Eldranis stretch before him.
From here, he could see the academy's main tower—the Grand Arcana Spire, a monolithic structure that housed the Arcane Vault, the heart of the Arcana Codex.
It was said that the Vault contained knowledge of all cards, their true meanings, and their hidden secrets.
But one particular rumor had always caught Noir's interest.
"There exists a lost card—one that was never recorded in the Arcana Codex."
A fifth suit.
The Suit of Void.
Noir's fingers subconsciously curled into a fist.
The Arcana Codex dictated everything in this world. Power, fate, even life itself. But what if… someone could rewrite it?
His Ace of Spades had already proven that rules could be broken.
What if they could be erased?
A gust of wind swept through the balcony, ruffling Noir's coat.
A single thought echoed in his mind.
"I'm going to find that card."
"And then, I will control fate itself."
Just as Noir turned to leave, a voice interrupted him.
"That was an interesting stunt you pulled today."
He glanced over his shoulder.
A boy with midnight-blue hair and golden eyes stood at the entrance to the balcony, arms crossed.
It was Caius Evernight, the Jack of Spades.
Unlike Selene, whose presence radiated danger like a sharpened dagger, Caius was cold, calculated, and unreadable.
"You've caught the academy's attention, Vale."
Noir raised an eyebrow. "Did I?"
Caius exhaled through his nose. "Don't play dumb. After what you did in the trials, the professors are watching you. And not just them."
Noir's smirk faded slightly. "Who else?"
Caius's golden eyes darkened. "The Executors."
A flicker of tension ran through Noir's body.
The Executors—the academy's shadow enforcers. The ones who ensured that no student ever strayed too far from their assigned fate.
The ones who hunted Jokers.
Caius studied him for a long moment before reaching into his coat and tossing something towards him.
Noir caught it without thinking.
A single playing card.
But not just any card.
A black Joker.
His ice-blue eyes narrowed. "What is this?"
Caius smirked. "An invitation."
"To the underground duels."
"Where real power is tested."
Noir stared at the card for a long moment before a slow, deliberate grin spread across his lips.
"Interesting."