Darkness swallowed me whole.
One moment, I was standing in the Restricted Archives, gripping the strange book. The next, I was falling—plunging into a void so deep it felt like the world itself had unraveled beneath me.
Then, suddenly—
I landed.
Cold stone met my knees. A sharp ache pulsed through my body, but I forced myself upright.
The void was gone.
Instead, I found myself standing in a vast, empty chamber, its walls stretching endlessly in every direction. The air was thick with something ancient, heavy, like the weight of countless forgotten voices pressing against my skin.
And then—
I wasn't alone.
A single throne stood in the center of the chamber. Towering, jagged, made of something black as ink. And seated upon it was a figure draped in shadow, its form shifting, twisting, as if it were barely holding itself together.
But its eyes—
Two piercing, crimson orbs locked onto me.
A voice slithered into my mind.
⟡ "You are not the first to seek power." ⟡
The air trembled.
⟡ "You will not be the last." ⟡
I swallowed hard, my grip tightening on the book still clutched in my hands. "Who are you?"
The figure leaned forward, its presence crushing.
⟡ "The question is not who I am." ⟡
⟡ "The question is—are you worthy?" ⟡
Before I could react, the shadows moved.
The chamber shifted around me, the stone beneath my feet warping into something else—something familiar.
My breath hitched.
I was no longer in the void.
I was… back at the Academy courtyard.
But it wasn't real. It couldn't be.
The air was too still. The colors were too muted, like a painting left to fade.
Then, I saw them.
The bullies.
The same nobles who had tormented me since the first day. The ones who made my life here a living hell.
And they were standing right in front of me.
Laughing.
Mocking.
Just like before.
⟡ "Break them." ⟡ The voice coiled around my thoughts. "Or be broken."
The moment the words sank in, they moved.
One of them stepped forward, smirking. I knew this scene. I had lived it before. The sneering noble would grab my collar, throw me down, humiliate me in front of the others.
Just like he always did.
But this time—
I didn't let him.
The moment his hand reached for me, my body moved on its own.
Faster. Sharper. Stronger.
My fist struck out—
CRACK.
The noble's smirk shattered as he staggered back, clutching his face. Blood dripped between his fingers.
The others froze.
They weren't expecting this.
Hell, I wasn't expecting this.
My heart pounded. My breathing was sharp.
⟡ "This is what it means to take control." ⟡
The whispers curled around me, pressing deeper, feeding off my thoughts.
⟡ "You do not need to rewrite your story." ⟡
⟡ "You need only to seize it." ⟡
Another noble lunged at me—anger flashing in his eyes—but I was faster. I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and twisted. A sickening pop echoed through the courtyard as he screamed.
I felt nothing.
No fear. No hesitation.
Only a cold, sharp clarity.
⟡ "Yes. That is the way." ⟡
The remaining nobles scrambled back, their confidence shattered.
I took a step forward.
They took a step back.
For the first time since I entered this academy—
They were afraid of me.
And then—
Everything shattered.
The illusion cracked apart like broken glass, and the void swallowed me once more.
I gasped, stumbling back onto the cold floor of the Restricted Archives. My vision spun, my heart still hammering in my chest.
The book in my hands glowed, its dark cover now pulsing with something alive.
And written across the first page, in ink that had not been there before, was a single line.
"The First Trial is complete."
I stared at it, my breathing uneven.
I didn't know what had just happened.
I didn't know what this book was.
But I knew one thing for certain—
I had changed.
And there was no going back.