In the Shadow of the Academy

Hiro Sitting at the table, I slowly stirred the cold coffee, but my thoughts were far away. Today left an unpleasant aftertaste. My brother, as usual, tried to start another argument, this time with James Parker, a representative of the prestigious Rothschild clan. This pompous jock and football player achieved in five years what would take other clans centuries. He irritated everyone around him with his arrogance, and I knew for sure this situation wouldn't end easily. If my grandfather didn’t find out about this first, James would certainly report everything to him in full detail, and as the heir of the Yakuza clan, I would have to take the hit. Irritated, I took a sip of the coffee, the bitterness of the drink intensified by my thoughts. Life was bustling around me in the dining hall. At our table, as usual, representatives of the elite had gathered, but to be honest, I never felt like part of this crowd. Even though we were surrounded by admiring and envious glances, it didn’t affect me. Grabbing my cup, I thought about the fact that we had four years of study ahead, and they weren’t likely to be easy. My brother and I had been training since childhood to be ready for whatever the world threw at us. Politics, power, blood—this was our path. And now I was here, among students, though I could have spent this time on more important things. Grandfather insisted we attend Valorian Academy, and my life suddenly changed. I remember how, during a clan meeting, he declared that even with our status, we had to follow the path of our ancestors. And so here I am. All of this seemed pointless to me, considering our clan was already one of the strongest in the country. Why am I wasting my time here? My thoughts were interrupted by Kaito’s hand, which suddenly waved toward something, followed by his quiet laughter. I followed his gaze and saw a familiar figure. Her again. Amelia. She was sitting at the opposite table with some cheerful girl. It was amusing how she tried to clear her throat after drinking coffee, and it seemed to bring Kaito as much joy as it did me. I frowned, looking at her. “Amelia, right? What’s her last name?” I strained, trying to recall. The name swirled in my head, but something kept me from piecing it all together. If I knew her clan, it would be easier. But she definitely wasn’t from any well-known families. So what exactly caught Kaito’s attention about this seemingly ordinary girl? My interest quickly faded. Taking the last sip of my coffee, I stood up from the chair without saying a word. The guys at the table didn’t even try to stop me, only Kaito glanced my way and waved his hand. Exiting the dining hall, I quickly headed to our house. It was located on the academy grounds, a privilege afforded to few. The narrow road leading to the house was shrouded in the shade of trees, creating a secluded atmosphere. The house was small but very stylish. Built in a modern Japanese style with elements of minimalism, it stood out among the other academy buildings. Dark wooden panels, large windows, and a neat garden surrounded by stone walls created an atmosphere of peace and solitude. The house was perfectly quiet. As I reached the door, the moment with Amelia flashed back in my mind, the one when she slammed the door right in front of me. Damn brat. She could’ve at least said thanks for walking her. Instead, she almost yelled at me. Her loss—she doesn’t know who she’s dealing with. My thoughts were interrupted by a ringtone. I sighed and pulled my phone out of my pocket. The name “Lily Kelman” flashed on the screen. Another headache. Lily, the spoiled princess of the Hutsi clan, constantly sought excuses to meet. Her clan had been trying to get closer to ours for a long time, but the idea only irritated me. Suppressing my annoyance, I raised the phone to my ear. — "Hi, Lily," I said dryly. There was noise on the other end, as if she was in her room, and her voice sounded inappropriately cheerful, as if this was the best day of her life. — "Hiro, baby, you remember about tomorrow, right?" — there was a slight hint of hurt in her voice. I squinted, trying to recall what she was talking about. — "Hm?" — I mumbled, and immediately heard her irritated sigh. — "You forgot, didn’t you? Our anniversary! It’s been a whole year since we’ve been together..." — her voice trembled as if she was about to cry. I sighed heavily and through clenched teeth replied: — "Lily, of course, I remember. You’ve been reminding me all week. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning," — I said, trying to close this conversation as quickly as possible. On the other end, I heard giggles and joyful squeals. — "Oh, you’re so thoughtful!" — Lily was clearly pleased. I couldn’t hold back and asked, already feeling irritated: — "Are you on speaker again?" — I asked coldly. She hesitated for a moment, then quietly replied: — "Well… I just wanted my girls to hear how much you love me…" I only rolled my eyes and mechanically said: — "See you tomorrow, babe. I’ll pick you up at 8 a.m." — without waiting for her response, I ended the call, brushing off my annoyed gaze from the phone. Running a hand through my hair, I shoved the phone back into my pocket. This day was driving me insane. Lily, with her constant reminders and idea of “perfect relationships,” irritated me more and more. Although officially we were a couple, I didn’t feel like she was my girlfriend. It was more like a business partnership, which infuriated me, but for my father, this union was important. Gathering my thoughts, I entered the house. Inside, it was quiet, as always. Peace and solitude—exactly what I valued right now. Climbing to the second floor, I walked down the hallway to my room. Opening the door, I looked around. The room was minimalist. The space was divided into zones—a bed by the window, a desk with a laptop, and several shelves filled with books. On one of the shelves lay a black mask that drew attention with its ominous simplicity. The mask served as a reminder of who I really was. A cloak hung in the wardrobe next to the rest of my clothes—everything was neatly organized and tidy. I looked at the mask on the table and sighed. Inside, there was still an uncontrollable force that needed to be released. I needed to clear my head. Grabbing the cloak and the mask, I left the house and headed for a walk around the academy grounds. I chose a route where people usually didn’t go, to distract myself a bit from all the fuss and constant irritation. I passed through some bushes, pushing through thick branches, until I reached a lake with a waterfall. This place always calmed me. The sound of falling water, the moon’s reflection on the lake’s surface—here I could at least forget for a moment about everything happening around me. Taking off the cloak, I carefully laid it down next to me and sat by the shore in a lotus position. Today had exhausted me, but it wasn’t the day itself that troubled me the most—it was the beast inside me. The dark energy that wouldn’t leave me in peace. A stream of power raged inside my body, binding it like invisible chains. I felt something awakening inside me that I had barely managed to suppress for many years. The dark energy, tied to our bloodline, to an ancient curse. The Black Dragon, known as the Bane, or as some called it, the Void Dragon, was always somewhere on the edge between awakening and sleep. Today, it was fighting to break free. Dark streams of energy coiled around me like a black mist, wrapping around my body more and more. I tensed, closing my eyes, trying to keep it under control. The energy surged through me from head to toe, and every movement caused pain. I whispered through clenched teeth: — "Damn it, hold on..." The pain became sharp like a knife, but I held back the scream, gritting my teeth. My strength was draining, but I couldn’t let the dragon take over. Opening my eyes, I saw the waterfall and lake before me, covered in thick black mist. Everything around me seemed foreign and dangerous. I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn’t obey. My body felt weak, like it was made of cotton. — "Damn it..." — I exhaled, biting my lip. I closed my eyes again, directing the energy through myself, trying to stabilize the flow. It felt like a slow return to life, the energy gradually retreating, and finally, I managed to stand, though with difficulty. Everything around me went silent, and my attention was drawn to the massive figure of the black dragon lying on the surface of the lake. His breathing was heavy, as if he was fighting for every breath. I felt a sense of unease—something was wrong. Why did he awaken now? The dragon opened his eyes, and his gaze was filled with something akin to regret. I met his cold blue eyes, as deep as the lake itself, and ran my hand through my wet hair, feeling the sweat drip down my face. — "Weakling," — the dragon's voice echoed from the water. His words made me shudder. I clenched my fists, trying to keep my composure. — "Weakling?" — I repeated, looking at him incredulously. — "Are you serious? If you keep raging like this, there’ll be nothing left of me!" The dragon seemed to smirk. His massive jaws opened, as if he was laughing at me. — "Boy, are you calling me an old man?" — his voice thundered. — "Who else?" — I snapped irritably. — "And stop calling me boy. I’m not as weak as I used to be." The dragon laughed even louder, and it seemed like the water in the lake began to vibrate in sync with his laughter. — "Yeah, when was the last time we met? You were about five?" — he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I frowned, remembering that encounter. Yes, back then, he almost killed me with his power. — "You nearly killed me back then, old man," — I growled. — "And what was this now? Why did you suddenly start raging like that?" But the dragon remained silent, his eyes closed, and once again, I felt the rising irritation within me. — "Why aren’t you saying anything?" — I continued, trying to understand what was going on. — "You’ve been asleep inside me for years, and suddenly you decide to wake up out of nowhere? You think I’m an idiot?" The dragon exhaled, opened his eyes, and finally replied: — "I felt a familiar energy." His words pierced me like a sharp blade. — "What did you feel? And you nearly killed me because of it?" — my frustration grew, but the dragon seemed completely calm. — "You’re exaggerating, boy," — he said, his voice slow and deep. I felt a familiar pain surge through me, the one I had long tried to forget. It pulsed in my chest, and I clenched my fist, trying not to give in to the emotions. — "I feel your pain, Hiro," — the dragon said, his voice full of sorrow. — "But you’re still too weak to withstand all of my power." — "Are you serious?" — I hissed through my teeth. — "I’ve been holding you back for 16 years, and you’re telling me I’m weak? What the hell is going on with you?" But he didn’t respond. The dragon took a deep breath, flapped his wings, and pulling me out of his world, said: — "It’s not time yet..." When I came to, I was back by the lake, sitting in a lotus position. The storm within me was subsiding, leaving only traces of sweat on my face and my energy burned out. I exhaled, barely managing to say: — "Damn grandpa..." 16 years. 16 years I’ve been holding back this power, and he comes and tells me it’s “not time yet”? What nonsense is this? And that look... Something was wrong. I removed the mask, which had helped me control the power during critical moments, and slowly stood up. Silence reigned around me, with only a slight breeze cooling my face. I put on my cloak, took the mask in my hand, and ran my fingers over it, thinking about the dragon’s words. Something was definitely happening, and that "something" didn’t bode well. As I walked along the shore, I tried to gather my thoughts. What "familiar energy" did he feel? If not my brother, then who? Too many questions, too few answers. And then I heard the song. A melody, painfully familiar, flooded my ears, forcing me to stop. Inside me, a wave of energy rose again, squeezing me from the inside. Damn it, the last thing I needed was another attack! I grabbed the nearest tree to steady myself. The song kept playing, mesmerizing me, like an ancient call. This time, I managed to suppress the raging power, but my resolve to find the source of the song only grew stronger. I quickened my pace, trying to find the one singing. And when I came out onto the path leading to the academy, I saw her—a girl in black, sitting on a bench. She sat with her eyes closed, completely immersed in the melody. The same song of the Ancient Dragons. A blow. Then another. Inside me, everything turned upside down. I wanted to grab her and make her stop. My body was filling with dark energy, the desire to approach her and subdue the dragon was unbearable. I stood in front of her, my vision growing darker and darker. When her eyelashes fluttered and her eyes opened, I felt the tension in the air become almost tangible. She looked at me, and in her gaze, there was terror—not the kind that usually gave me satisfaction, but right now I didn’t care. I recognized her immediately. Amelia. The same girl who had already managed to annoy me with her behavior. But now the question was much more serious. How did she know this song? Anger and irritation surged within me like a dark wave, the energy rising like a storm in the sea. — "Where did you learn that song?" — my voice was low, piercing, filled with barely restrained fury. Her lips parted slightly, but no answer followed. I stepped closer, feeling the storm building inside me. At that moment, the silence became deafening, and her fear was almost palpable. — "I’m asking, where did you learn it?" — I repeated, sharply grabbing her arm and yanking her towards me. She gasped, pain contorting her face, but I needed an answer. I tightened my grip, not noticing that I was truly hurting her. My anger had taken over completely, and I wasn’t paying attention to her pleas to let go. — "You don’t understand... Where the hell did you learn that song?" — my voice dropped even lower, filled with a threat that could terrify anyone. — "I heard it! I just heard it and repeated it!" — she shouted in frustration, desperately trying to pull away. — "Happy now?!" Her words sounded like a thunderclap. "Heard"? "Repeated"? Is she serious? She’s obviously taking me for a fool! My dark energy began to coil tighter around me, my vision darkened, and I felt the beast I’d kept restrained for so many years begin to rise within me. I released her arm and took a step back, trying not to let the dragon break free. — "Heard? From whom?" — my voice grew even colder, filled only with fury. — "That’s an ancient dragon song. Do you think I don’t know what that means?" — "Dragons? Are you out of your mind?" — she was clearly shocked, not understanding what was going on. Her voice was enchanting, pure, like a melody—a stark contrast to the tense situation, which only enraged me further. I clenched my teeth, feeling the darkness inside of me roiling, surging, ready to burst out. — "You’re coming with me. You’ll tell me where you heard that song and who told it to you," — I said, barely containing the roar building inside. — "Are you insane? I’m not going anywhere with you!" — she snapped, her voice sharp and defiant, making me hesitate for a moment. And then… around her, white flickers of energy began to appear. Pure, ancient power. She probably didn’t even notice it, too consumed by fear and anger. But I felt it down to the very core of my being. My dragon sensed that energy, and something inside me broke. The burst of her power pushed me back, and I barely stayed on my feet, struggling to suppress my own surging energy. My body trembled, the inner beast hungrily absorbing her energy, demanding more. "Boy, that power… do you feel it?" — the dragon’s voice echoed in my head, drawn to her like a magnet. But she had already fled, leaving me standing in the darkness, submerged in the chaos of my thoughts and the storm of power swirling inside. "Boy! You let her escape?" — the dragon’s voice rang out again, louder this time, almost accusatory. — "Shut up..." — I whispered, feeling the mask on my face crack. I tried to pull myself together, but it was too late—the mask shattered into pieces, sharp fragments cutting my cheek, leaving blood slowly trickling down my face. "You let her go… And she didn’t even realize the power. She doesn’t even know who she is!" — the dragon continued to mutter, his voice growing louder in my mind. — "Shut up," — I hissed, sitting down on the nearest bench, clutching my head. — "I don’t have time for you right now..." My own power was churning inside me, conflicting with the ancient energy I had sensed in her. How is this possible? No one in the first year should be capable of something like that. She didn’t even realize she unleashed that power, as if it was a normal occurrence. "She’s stronger than you think…" — the dragon whispered in my head. I sat there, gripping my head, trying to cope with the pain and the dragon’s relentless voice. What was that? Who is she? How could she activate such power in her first year? Through the pain, I sensed something nearby. Looking down, I noticed a phone and earbuds left on the bench. She must have been in such a hurry that she forgot them. I slowly picked them up, feeling a strange sensation rising within me. Clutching her belongings in my hand, I tried to suppress the growing anger. "That energy… it was too familiar," — the dragon muttered again. Strength was slowly returning to me, leaving behind traces on the ground—scorched grass and remnants of dark energy. I stood up, swaying, but still containing the storm within. Gathering the pieces of the mask, I clenched them in my fist. A burst of energy—and the mask ignited, burning to ashes right in my hand. I waved my hand over the ground, erasing the signs of burnt grass as if nothing had happened. Putting on my cloak, I looked at the phone and earbuds in my hand. “I wonder… will she come back for them?” But that didn’t matter now. I was exhausted. My head was buzzing, my cheek was still bleeding, and the dragon wouldn’t stop, demanding answers. I headed home, back to the guys. There was no point in staying here—I needed to get myself together, deal with the wound on my cheek, and maybe try to find some answers to the questions that were plaguing me. I slipped the phone and earbuds into my cloak pocket and, with a heavy sigh, headed toward my house, hoping I’d find at least a bit of peace there. But inside, the thought still echoed: Who is she, really? And why does her energy feel so much like the ancient power of the dragons? Amelia Opening my eyes, I was immediately hit by the sharp scent of salt and sea air, burning in my nostrils. The roar of the wind and the muffled sound of waves surrounded me on all sides. Before me stretched an endless sea, and I was standing on the edge of a high cliff. Above, thick gray-blue clouds loomed, ready to break into a storm at any moment. The wind caught my hair, whipping it around like dark threads against the vast sky. I took a few steps forward, squinting, as if trying to understand where I was. Below the cliff lay a chasm—the dark blue water crashed against the threatening rocks below. It all seemed so real that my heart began to race. Looking down, I realized I was still wearing the same nightgown I had fallen asleep in. The thin fabric fluttered in the wind, the cold air brushing against my skin. But what was this? I had been asleep... Or was this a dream? How could I have gotten here? — "Am I sleepwalking?" — I muttered under my breath, looking down at my hands in confusion. But suddenly, a voice made me flinch and turn around sharply. — "You’re not a sleepwalker, Amelia," — a soft yet commanding voice spoke from behind me. I froze, unable to move a step. Slowly turning, I saw a woman standing before me. No, not a girl... A woman, but she looked like she came from another time, from another reality. She stood right in front of me—tall, slender, with long, floor-length white hair that flowed around her like a train. Her clothes resembled ancient Greek robes—thin fabrics draped around her body, emphasizing her otherworldliness. And around her... magic swirled. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A radiant glow surrounded her, and her snow-white eyes, like two sparkling stars, shimmered as if they were filled with fire. It was mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, struggling to grasp what was happening. My mind refused to believe what I was seeing. She was like a living statue, as if she had stepped out of ancient Greek myths. The woman crossed her arms over her chest, a slight smile playing on her lips, watching me closely. She seemed amused by the fact that I didn’t know what to say or how to react. My body tensed, but I still couldn’t speak. Inside me, everything was a mix of fear, awe, and wonder at her majesty. She coughed lightly, as if to snap me out of my stupor, and calmly said: — "Good to see you again, Amelia." Her voice sounded melodious, like the ringing of bells, but something in it resonated deeply within me. "Again"? What did she mean? My confusion was clearly written on my face, and she tilted her head slightly, a strand of her hair slipping free and playing in the wind. — "Have you truly forgotten?" — she continued, her voice filled with mild reproach. I stood there, trying to make sense of anything. My mind was blank. Her words echoed in my head, but I couldn’t connect them to reality. How could I forget something so important? I instinctively raised my hand to my temple, trying to remember something. But as soon as I strained my thoughts, a sharp pain struck me, slicing through my head like a blade. I cried out, unable to contain it, clutching my head and dropping to my knees. The woman’s expression changed instantly, her faint smile vanishing, replaced by concern. She quickly rushed over to me and gently took me by the shoulders, as if trying to keep me anchored to this shore while I gasped for breath, trying to manage the pain. — "Breathe... breathe deeply, my dear..." — her voice became soft, almost comforting. I tried to follow her instructions, but the pain only intensified. My heart was beating so fast it felt like it would burst out of my chest. She leaned closer, and I felt her gentle hands lift my face upward. Her touch was so warm and soft, it seemed to soothe the pain all by itself. Then she kissed me on the forehead, and in that moment, I felt a peace I had never known before. — "My girl... The time will come, and you will know everything. But for now, return to your world. Sleep well, Amelia," — she whispered, her voice so quiet and tender that I barely heard it. Her words, like a gentle breeze, lulled me into a soft, deep slumber. My body became light, and my consciousness slowly began to drift away, as if I was being carried into distant, ordinary dreams. Everything around me blurred, her figure dissolved into the light, and I sank back into sleep, trying to grasp her final words that echoed in my mind. I woke up suddenly and abruptly, as if someone had yanked me out of a warm cocoon. Someone was banging on the door with such force that the walls shook, and a loud female voice, full of concern, echoed through the room. — "Amelia! Open the door, damn it! I’ve been knocking for ten minutes!" — Samanta shouted, and from the sound of her voice, it was clear she was ready to break the door down if I didn’t answer. I jumped out of bed so fast that for a moment everything went dark before my eyes. My head spun, and I had to lean against the wall to avoid falling. — "I’m coming!" — I yelled, trying to shake off the dizziness. Rushing to the door and throwing it open, I barely had time to step back before Samanta practically stormed into the room, holding some black outfit in her hands. She gave me a quick once-over, sighed, and without wasting time, began talking. — "Amelia, you have exactly five minutes to get yourself together!" — she said hurriedly, pushing me towards the bathroom as if this was a rescue operation. — "If we’re more than ten minutes late, Professor Kramer will eat us alive!" — Samanta widened her eyes, showing just how serious the situation was. — "And you know what’s worse? He’ll make us run five laps around the field! And I am not in the mood for extra laps!" She practically shoved me into the bathroom, thrusting the outfit into my hands, which I looked at in confusion. It wasn’t just athletic wear—it looked more like a military uniform, black, sleek, with sharp lines. I was still standing in the bathroom, completely in shock, trying to process where I was and what was happening. Yesterday had been too strange to be real, and this new academy... this strange world I had found myself in. The feeling that I was still dreaming hadn’t left me. In the background of my thoughts, Samanta knocked on the door again, her voice more impatient now: — "Amelia! Hurry up! We’ve got barely three minutes left!" I turned on the cold water and quickly splashed my face, hoping the icy droplets would snap me back to reality. My face burned from the cold shock, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that all of this was somehow unreal. I glanced in the mirror and saw my reflection—a tired face, dark circles under my eyes, wet strands of hair clinging to my cheeks. My sky-blue eyes seemed dim... but for a moment, I thought I saw strange sparks of energy flickering in their depths. I jumped back from the mirror, my breath catching. “What was that?” flashed through my mind. Fear gripped my chest. — "Are you okay?" — Samanta’s worried voice came from behind the door. I quickly tried to pull myself together, swallowing my panic. — "Yes! I’m fine, just a minute… getting dressed, and we’ll go!" — I replied, trying to sound as calm as possible. I slapped my cheeks lightly, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and that strange anxiety. Time was ticking, and I needed to act. Quickly brushing my teeth and pulling my hair into a ponytail, I made sure not to look in the mirror again. The thought of seeing something strange again was too terrifying. Opening the uniform, I noticed it was entirely black—a t-shirt, tight pants, and a jacket. Not a bad choice, considering black always suited me. Throwing on the jacket, I sighed and, gathering my thoughts, stepped back into the room. Samanta was already waiting by the door. She was also wearing the same uniform, but her hair, neatly braided, looked so perfect and polished that I envied her organization. Without her usual glasses, she looked more serious, even a bit strict. — "At least you look decent," — she smirked, stepping closer to adjust my t-shirt like an older sister checking if everything was in place. — "The professors are very strict about appearance. Consider it more like a parade than just a workout." — "Professors?" — I asked, surprised, adjusting my jacket. — "Yes, two of them—Professor Kramer and Professor Loxley. Kramer’s our military instructor, a real beast. He’ll make us run until we pass out if he sees even a single mistake. Loxley, his partner, is even worse—she’s all about discipline and appearance. If she notices something’s off, you’re done for!" — Samanta grimaced, showing just how serious it was. She grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the door, not giving me a chance to catch my breath. We were practically running down the corridor, her firm grip not allowing me to slow down. — "Every morning, we have training, then we get a short break before breakfast to clean up, and then straight to classes," — she said breathlessly as we hurried. — "Trust me, if we’re late, it’ll be the worst day of our lives!" It was already starting to get light outside, the air cold and fresh, and I shivered, realizing that what awaited me was something completely different from what I had imagined when I enrolled in this academy. We ran as fast as we could, but when we reached the training grounds, everyone was already lined up. The training had clearly started long ago, and our tardiness wasn’t appreciated. I looked around, trying to catch my breath, and saw that all the students were dressed in the same military-style uniform as us. The rows were divided: boys stood separately from the girls, a bit further back. My eyes landed on familiar figures—Hiro and Kaito were standing in the second row with the other boys, under the watchful eye of Professor Kramer. Kramer was the very embodiment of a military instructor: tall, with sharp facial features, a shaved head, and tattoos peeking out from beneath his uniform sleeves. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he watched over his trainees like a predator ready to pounce on his prey at the slightest mistake. His stern face showed almost no emotion, except one—absolute strictness. My lungs were burning, and I was struggling to catch my breath, trying to pull myself together. Samanta was breathing heavily beside me, and I realized that neither of us was in the best shape right now. Our instructor, Professor Loxley, was clearly not pleased that we were late. She stood in front of our row with a look of pure irritation on her face. Loxley looked like a strict and unapproachable woman. Her chestnut hair was tied back in a tight braid that fell down her back, and her cold, focused eyes seemed ready to burn through any of us with a single glance. Unlike Kramer, her strength lay in subtle gestures and icy discipline. Her uniform fit perfectly, emphasizing her slender figure and posture, honed to perfection. Her face held a mask of displeasure, and it was obvious our tardiness had not won her over. — "Well, princesses, everyone’s been waiting for your royal entrance. Can we begin now?" — her mocking tone rang clearly in my head. I felt the weight of judgment fall on us from all sides. The boys in Kramer’s line almost burst out laughing, clearly enjoying the fact that we had become the center of attention. But Professor Kramer didn’t let them enjoy it for long. — "Something funny, gentlemen?" — his voice cut through the air like a knife. — "Everyone—start running laps. And add an extra one for good measure!" The laughter instantly died, and the boys’ faces turned sour with frustration. Their glares at us were filled with irritation, as if it was our fault they were being punished. Hiro smirked, seeming to accept the situation, and was the first to take off running. Kaito, as always, followed close behind, waving casually before joining the group. I wanted to look away, but I realized that was a mistake. The girls in our line, especially two of them, looked at us with clear anger. Their expressions weren’t just disapproval; it was irritation bordering on contempt. But there wasn’t time to dwell on it. Samanta tried to explain herself to Loxley, but her words were cut off by the cold voice of the instructor: — "Get in line, now. Run three laps! Today, since I’m in a good mood, no extra ones, but if I see you late again, don’t expect any leniency." Samanta grabbed my hand, pulling me to the end of the line so we wouldn’t attract more attention. I tried to catch my breath, but the command came immediately: — "Run!" We started running with the others. I felt my legs turn to jelly by the second lap. Figures blurred around me, sharp commands from the professors echoed in my head, and everything seemed surreal. How did I end up here? This wasn’t just a military training ground; it was a true test. And although it was just physical training, I felt that something much bigger was happening here. Loxley walked along the edge of our line, her eyes never missing a detail, and I noticed that her gaze was especially intense whenever it landed on me. Did she know something? Could she sense it? That thought gnawed at me. Samanta was trying her best to keep up, glancing back at me every now and then, as if she was afraid I might collapse from exhaustion at any moment. When we finally finished the laps, Loxley was still standing in front of us, her face as stern as ever. — "You’ve been spared today, but tomorrow—don’t expect any mercy," — she said, her voice more of a warning than just words. — "We’re training the elite here, not lazy princesses. Understood?" I nodded along with the others, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it would jump out of my chest. Samanta quietly exhaled and whispered to me: — "I told you, they don’t joke around..." Professor Loxley scanned us with her cold gaze, and her voice echoed across the training grounds: — "Pair up. We’ll start with stretching. After that, you’ll work in pairs with the opposite gender." Her words were strict, leaving no room for leniency. My body ached, my breathing was still heavy, and I felt like I was at my limit. The thought flickered in my mind: "How did I end up here, and why is everything so hard?" My muscles protested with every movement, but I knew there was no point in complaining. Weakness wasn’t tolerated in this academy. Samanta, on the other hand, seemed as if she was used to this kind of training. She let out a relieved sigh when the command for stretching was given. — "Amelia, let’s move over there, I’ll explain what to do," — she suggested with a tired but friendly tone, pointing to a small grassy area on the side. I nodded and followed her, trying to calm my breathing. As we settled on the grass, the cool morning breeze slightly soothed my tense body. — "Alright, let’s begin. Stretching is easy, as long as you do it right," — Samanta said smoothly as she stretched, clearly accustomed to it. — "Stretch your muscles slowly, don’t rush. If you don’t stretch properly, you’ll pay for it later." I followed her advice and carefully stretched my legs. Unlike everything else, stretching wasn’t difficult for me. My muscles ached slightly from being out of practice, but I used to do ballroom dancing as a child, and stretching was always part of my training. Each movement was familiar, though my body, unaccustomed to these exercises, was starting to remind me. I extended my legs in front of me and began leaning forward, trying to reach my toes. — "Amelia, you seem to know what you’re doing," — Samanta remarked with slight surprise, glancing at me. — "Yeah, I did ballroom dancing when I was younger," — I replied, still focused on the exercises. — "Though I haven’t trained in a while, so my muscles are a bit sore." She smiled: — "That’s great. Dancing is a solid foundation for flexibility and coordination. Trust me, it’ll come in handy." I nodded, trying to focus on how my body felt, but I found my attention drifting to a figure in the crowd. My gaze instinctively landed on Hiro, standing among the boys. Since the first time I saw him, something had changed. His presence stirred strange, confusing feelings within me. Every time he was nearby, I felt an inexplicable tension, as if there was an invisible connection between us. I couldn’t tell if it was fear, curiosity, or something else, but his figure drew my eyes every time he was in sight. Hiro was fully absorbed in his exercises, his movements precise and confident. His back was straight, shoulders relaxed, and his face showed focus, but also calm. Inside me, a strange sensation grew, but I couldn’t explain what exactly drew me to him. I couldn’t recall if I’d ever seen him before in other circumstances, yet the feeling was oddly familiar. At the same time, I felt another gaze on me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Kaito, standing next to Hiro, watching me closely. His bright green eyes were studying my movements with interest. He stood casually, a slight smirk on his lips, which made me feel a bit uneasy. I quickly looked away, trying to focus on stretching, but his presence lingered even at a distance. — "Kaito’s looking at you like you’re some kind of interesting trophy," — Samanta whispered, noticing his gaze. — "What? Why?" — I asked, trying not to look up. Samanta chuckled and bent deeply: — "He’s always curious about newcomers. Especially those who stand out. And you’re definitely not the type to give up easily. Don’t worry, just do your thing." I nodded again, trying not to dwell on the attention and refocus on the exercises. Stretching came more easily than I expected, and soon my body began to respond to the movements. But deep inside, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed after that day. Something about this place and these people affected me more than I was willing to admit. After stretching, we were gathered in the center of the grounds, where a sparring area had been set up. Unlike typical training grounds, everything here was arranged with utmost seriousness. The sparring areas were divided into rectangular fields, each designed for two people. Along the barriers, various weapons were neatly laid out: real steel swords, spears, shields, nunchucks, and even training gloves for hand-to-hand combat. The weapons looked dangerous—the gleam of the metal hinted at their sharpness and power. These weren’t wooden toys or training models—they were real tools meant for serious practice. Each sparring field was individually enclosed, so the fighters could focus on their duels without being distracted by other pairs. The sparring areas were equipped with benches for resting and racks with weapons of every kind. Some sections were meant for hand-to-hand combat, with training gloves and protective helmets laid out. Other zones had targets for archery or knife throwing. Everything here indicated that this wasn’t just ordinary training but preparation for something far more serious. We stood at attention, lined up, waiting our turn. Professors Loxley and Kramer were quietly discussing something, occasionally nodding toward the students. Their gazes moved over each of us, as if they were evaluating our potential. I exhaled heavily, feeling the tension rising. Everything happening around me seemed frighteningly real. The weapons looked threatening, and the thought of having to use them made my heart clench with fear. My name hadn’t been called yet, and I stood still, listening to every word from the instructors. But everything sounded distant, like through a fog. Each name called out echoed in my mind as I waited for mine. Every minute of waiting only intensified my anxiety. Samanta was the first to be called. Her partner was Dan. I glanced at him—a tall, athletic guy with strong muscles. His brown eyes radiated calm and care, but his appearance gave off a sense of hidden strength. He looked like a real athlete, which was obvious from his solid build and confident movements. Samanta turned to me and quickly winked—she seemed to know him and was apparently pleased with the match. I watched them for a moment, but when I heard my name, I froze, not catching who my partner was. Just then, I felt a slight push from behind. I turned around and saw Hiro. His face held calm confidence, and there was a small glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes, as if he was pleased with the pairing. My heart jolted with a strange feeling, a mix of irritation and unexplainable excitement. — "Uh?" — It was all I could manage to say in that moment. Words seemed to escape me. Hiro scoffed, his voice irritated but confident. — "Let’s go grab a spot before they’re all taken." — He nodded toward an open area on the sparring grounds. I was about to follow him when I heard a loud voice behind me. — "I’m not okay with this pairing! Change it!" — Lily shouted indignantly, standing nearby. Her golden curls cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, and her blue eyes flashed with anger. She was clearly unhappy with being paired with Kaito. He, on the other hand, looked amused, nearly laughing to himself as he watched her fury. Professor Kramer cast her a glance, then looked at the rest of us. — "Lily Kelman, your pairing is final. Partners won’t change until the end of the year. If you don’t like it, take it up with the headmaster, but nothing will change." Lily pressed her lips together in frustration, clearly angrier than before, but she didn’t argue further. She shot Kaito a glare full of irritation, but he only shrugged as if saying, "Get used to it." Her anger then turned toward me. She stepped up close, her voice low but harsh. — "Listen carefully, Hiro is mine. Don’t even think about him being yours. Got it?" — Her words were laced with possessiveness and threat. Hiro rolled his eyes, obviously tired of her claims. Kaito, standing nearby, looked like he was watching the most entertaining show of his life. I sighed heavily, looking at Lily with weariness. Her anger and possessiveness didn’t bother me. All I wanted was to get through this training without drawing more attention. — "I wasn’t planning on it," — I replied calmly and turned toward the open sparring field where we were supposed to fight. Hiro followed behind me without saying a word, but his irritation was almost palpable. He seemed to dislike this situation as much as I did, but he didn’t argue with Lily; he just moved on. Kaito took Lily’s hand and led her to their sparring area, throwing me a glance filled with amusement. Lily tried to maintain her pride, but it was clear that this only enraged her more. Now, standing on the sparring field, I realized that I would have to work with Hiro for an entire year. The only question was whether this applied to other subjects as well, or if there was some justice in us being assigned different partners for other classes. Hiro silently removed his jacket and casually tossed it onto the bench, walking confidently to the weapons rack. His movements were quick and precise, as if he already knew exactly what he was going to take. He chose a sword—a long one with an elegant curve to the blade, its steel gleaming brightly in the light. The hilt was intricately decorated, indicating its fine craftsmanship. Hiro inspected it with a cold, focused gaze, as if testing its balance in his hands, then made his way to the center of the sparring field without looking back. I stood hesitantly, unsure of which weapon to choose. I removed my jacket and carefully placed it next to his on the bench, but my thoughts were jumbled as I stared at the array of weapons. Swords, daggers, spears, nunchucks... I had no idea what to do next. The gleaming blades of the swords, reflecting the light, looked menacing and foreign. In the background, I could hear the sharp clash of steel as other pairs began their sparring. My anxiety continued to build. Then, Professor Kramer’s deep voice pulled me from my thoughts: — "Amelia Armstrong, why are you just standing there?" — He looked at me with mild irritation, as if trying to understand why I hadn’t chosen a weapon yet. I turned to him, unsure of how to respond. A weapon? I had never held one before, and the thought of fighting with one seemed absurd. I lowered my gaze and quietly said, feeling a bit of shame: — "I’m sorry, I don’t know what to choose." Professor Kramer sighed, scratching the back of his head, though amusingly, there was no hair there. He stepped closer, looking at me with some confusion. — "Which clan are you from?" — he asked, studying my face as if trying to decipher the answer. — "I... I don’t know." — I hesitated, feeling the growing confusion rise within me. Clans? Why does everyone keep asking me about this? The professor frowned, clearly realizing I wasn’t a clan member, and sighed heavily, muttering: — "Not from a clan… You’re going to have a hard time." That phrase stung again, just like it had a few times before over these past days. What did "not from a clan" mean? Why was it so important? I was starting to feel like an outsider here, like I was outside of a system that everyone else knew about, while I remained completely in the dark. The professor sighed again, casting an appraising look at the weapons and then at me. Finally, he stepped closer. — "Listen, Amelia," — he said, more gently than before. — "Sometimes it’s not about choosing the right weapon, but about letting the weapon choose you. Look at the selection and listen to yourself. Find what resonates with your soul." His words sounded strange, but there was something true about them. I nodded, slightly puzzled by his kindness. It felt unsettling, yet oddly comforting. Hiro, who was already standing on the field with his sword in hand, suddenly tensed. Hearing the professor’s words, he paused, a faint expression of confusion crossing his face. "Not from a clan?" — the word clearly made him think, and his gaze shifted to me, but he said nothing, just watched, deep in thought. I slowly turned my attention to the weapons. It all felt so distant, as if I didn’t belong here. But something clicked inside me. I decided to focus. I closed my eyes and tried to tune in to my feelings. Fragments of thoughts swirled in my head, but gradually I began to sense a strange pull—like something deep within me was responding to a call. When I opened my eyes, two items on the far corner of the rack caught my attention: a katana with a black hilt and the gleaming blades of small daggers in a sheath. I stepped closer and, without hesitation, reached for the weapons. Feeling the coolness of the metal, I picked up the katana, then the daggers, feeling their weight in my hands. — "Two weapons?" — Professor Kramer said in surprise, watching me closely. He looked slightly puzzled, but there was a note of admiration in his voice. — "Interesting... It’s rare for someone to resonate with two weapons at once." I frowned, holding the katana in one hand and the daggers in the other. "How am I supposed to use these?" — the thought flashed through my mind. The weapons felt too serious, too dangerous for me to wield. — "Considering your partner," — the professor continued with a slight smile, — "I’d recommend starting with the katana. A blade like that requires time and skill, but with training, you can master it. Let’s set the daggers aside for now." I sighed, examining the katana. Its black hilt was wrapped in thin leather straps, and the gleaming blade reflected the light. I couldn’t even imagine how to hold it properly, let alone use it. — "Professor Kramer..." — I began, glancing at him uncertainly. — "Professor Alfred Kramer," — he corrected with a light smile. — "And don’t second-guess yourself. Just listen to your instincts. Everyone has their own weapon, their own strength. You’ll figure it out soon. And don’t worry, we’ll help you learn." I nodded, still unsure of my abilities, but nevertheless, I placed the daggers back on the rack and carefully took the katana in both hands. Its weight was noticeable, but not as heavy as I had expected. As soon as my fingers gripped the hilt, something inside me clicked, as if the katana really had "responded." I didn’t fully understand it, but deep down, I felt something had shifted. Hiro, standing nearby, glanced at me with interest, his gaze sharp and focused, and I didn’t like how intently he was studying me. His observation added to the pressure I already felt. Was I really going to have to fight him right now? Professor Kramer stepped to the center of the field, his expression serious. His voice rang out clearly and strictly: — "Take off the sheath, Amelia. Come here." Obediently, I removed the sheath from the katana, feeling the cool steel in my hands. My heart was pounding, and my hands trembled slightly from the tension. I stepped forward, standing across from Hiro. His face was completely calm, his eyes full of confidence. He held his sword with ease, as if fighting was as natural to him as breathing. — "The rules are simple," — Professor Kramer continued. — "You’re sparring. The winner is the one who forces the other to surrender. I’ll be watching, especially you, Amelia, to make sure things don’t get out of hand." His words echoed in my head, intensifying my anxiety. I glanced at Hiro—his face was focused, but a faint smirk flickered across his lips. He was ready. I raised the katana, feeling my fingers tremble. The weapon felt foreign, and despite the professor’s words, I had no idea how I was going to handle this challenge. — "Your instincts will guide you," — the professor said suddenly, as if sensing my doubt. — "Let the strength inside you lead. You can do this." But how could I trust something I didn’t understand? Hiro seemed to be waiting for this moment—he got into a fighting stance, his gaze locked on mine, as if he already anticipated the outcome of the fight. — "Begin. Three... two... one!" — the professor commanded. — "One," — Hiro dashed forward with incredible speed. His sword sliced through the air, aiming to strike me. I barely managed to dodge, instinctively stepping back. My own blade trembled in my hands as I deflected the first blow. The clang of his sword against mine sent vibrations through my arms, like an electric shock. Every move he made was precise, calculated, and full of confidence. With each strike, I felt my own weakness. Every clash sent pain through my muscles. He wasn’t giving me a chance to recover—each blow followed the next, and I barely managed to dodge and parry, unsure how long I could withstand the onslaught. But then, I felt something. Something inside me began to change. It was like a faint spark igniting deep within my soul. At first, weak and almost unnoticeable, but it began to grow, filling me from the inside. This was the strength the professor had spoken of, but it didn’t feel entirely like mine. It felt like it belonged to something—or someone—else. Hiro attacked again, his movements fast and lethal, but this time I dodged in time. At that moment, I saw something strange behind him—a dark figure. It moved with him, like his shadow, guiding each of his strikes. It was so unreal that I froze for a moment, but then I felt the pull of that power within me again. I jumped back, and suddenly, my hands were enveloped in a strange, warm energy. I felt a touch, as if someone wrapped their fingers around mine on the hilt of the katana. It was a hand—white, glowing, like a ghost. I looked up and saw a white figure standing beside me. Her long hair flowed around her, and her eyes, like stars, were fixed on me. She was holding the katana with me, guiding my movement. The moment felt magical. My hand no longer trembled. I lunged forward, and this time the strike was precise, confident. Hiro seemed caught off guard, and his sword met mine with noticeable effort. — "What the...?" — he muttered, his eyes widening in surprise. — "You can use power you haven’t even mastered?" He stared at me, then his gaze shifted to the side. The dark figure behind him grinned wickedly, its eyes burning with black fire. The white figure holding my hand smiled back, as if this was an ancient rivalry. The world around us seemed to freeze. We stood facing each other, but the fight was no longer just physical. These two figures—one dark, the other white—were guiding us, controlling our movements. I was no longer fighting alone. And neither was Hiro. Professor Kramer, watching from the side, tensed. He had never seen anything like this from first-year students, especially from a girl who wasn’t part of any clan. His eyes narrowed as he sensed the energy radiating from us. It was too powerful for beginners. — "What the...?" — the professor muttered, keeping his eyes locked on our duel. The world around us grew still. The other students training nearby began to notice as well. The clang of blades echoed in the air, fading from their consciousness. Their attention was fixed on us, on these two opposing forces, as if something ancient and mystical had come to life here on the field. Hiro took a step back, his eyes scanning me again, but now there was more than just confidence in them. There was surprise and curiosity. He, too, could feel that something strange was happening. — "You feel it too, don’t you?" — he asked, his voice softer but with a hint of danger. I didn’t respond. The white figure continued to guide me, directing every strike. The katana no longer felt foreign—it had become an extension of my body. I moved with a strength I had never felt before, and this ghostly woman continued to hold my hand, as if teaching me something ancient. Hiro attacked again, and this time our blades met with such force that sparks flew. But I didn’t back down. I withstood his attack, and that seemed to surprise him even more. The dark figure behind him grinned wider, its eyes growing darker, as if pleased with what was happening. The white figure next to me moved with grace and power, as if this was her battle too. Professor Kramer was clearly puzzled. These silhouettes, the energy surrounding us—it was unlike anything he expected to see at this level. This was something he might have expected from upperclassmen, maybe even third-years, but not from first-years. The world around us narrowed, growing more tense, but I felt myself becoming stronger with each passing moment. This energy flowed through me, making me stronger than I ever imagined. Hiro Hiro watched the fight with growing astonishment. How could it be that this fragile girl, who didn’t belong to any clan, was wielding a power he had been mastering for 16 years, a power he had fought so hard to control? The black figure behind him—his inner beast, the dragon, Bane—had suddenly entered the fight without any warning. Normally, the dragon only manifested during sparring with his brother, allowing Hiro to feel its strength. But now, it had intervened in his fight with Amelia, so abruptly and without regard. A storm raged inside Hiro. Emotions surged through him like relentless waves. The dragon was giving him commands, like a seasoned mentor, and disturbingly, Hiro was enjoying the fight. He could feel Bane reveling in every moment, savoring it. But what surprised Hiro the most was the figure behind Amelia. A white spirit, emitting a soft yet unyielding glow, opposing the dark figure of his dragon. — "Who the hell is she?" — Hiro thought, feeling his own thoughts intertwining with the dragon’s commands. The song, her power, that white spirit… too many questions without answers. The energy emanating from Amelia was the same one he had felt when she pushed him away before. And the dragon admired this power, as if it was greeting it with reverence. Hiro could increasingly sense that this fight was no ordinary sparring match. The tension was rising, and he found himself fighting not only Amelia but also his inner beast, which craved more. Even his brother, who was accustomed to these kinds of battles, wouldn’t have held out this long. Hiro leaped back to catch his breath. His breathing was uneven, and his heart was pounding wildly. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at Amelia again. She stood across from him, holding her katana confidently, her eyes focused, and her stance prepared for another attack. But what worried Hiro even more was his dragon. He felt Bane stirring uneasily within him. — "What’s wrong with you?" — Hiro whispered, parrying another powerful strike from Amelia. The dragon remained silent, but the tension grew. Every time their swords clashed, Hiro felt a strange unease inside himself. And when Bane finally spoke, his voice was filled with surprise and concern. — "This can’t be…" Those words made Hiro tense even more. What could possibly disturb his dragon? Why wasn’t it calming down? The energy inside Hiro was spiraling out of control, becoming more unstable, and it hurt. Dark flickers of energy began to swirl around him like black smoke, but Hiro’s gaze remained fixed on Amelia. She, too, was surrounded by an aura, but hers was white, glowing like moonlight. Their figures stood in the center of the field, swords crossed once again, while the shadows behind them—black and white—seemed to be engaging in their own battle. Bane, the dark dragon behind Hiro, grinned savagely, his eyes glowing a deep crimson, while the white spirit behind Amelia looked sorrowful but resolute. Their forms collided, and for a moment, the world stood still. Professor Kramer, realizing that the situation was spiraling out of control, jumped to his feet and thrust his arm forward. In an instant, a phoenix made of fire burst from his hand, separating Hiro and Amelia with flames. — "Stop! Hiro, control your power!" — Kramer’s voice was sharp and commanding. Amelia, seemingly unaware of him, pointed her blade at the fiery phoenix, and her white spirit moved with her, urging her toward another attack. But before she could step forward, Kaito quickly crossed the field, his rapier sliding from its sheath, barely managing to block Amelia’s strike. — "Have you two lost your minds?" — Kaito shouted, looking from Hiro to Amelia. — "Unleashing your power now? Amelia, for God’s sake, snap out of it!" Hiro, stunned and bewildered, stood frozen. His body ached, and inside, his dragon howled in agony. Bane wasn’t just upset—he was troubled, his usual arrogance replaced by something akin to fear. — "This can’t be..." — the dragon repeated, but now his voice trembled with confusion. Those words echoed in Hiro’s mind, amplifying the pain inside him. He bit his lip, tasting blood, trying to dull the pain. The dark flickers of energy swirled around him even more intensely, but he noticed that the white energy around Amelia was also growing, as if mirroring his own power. The shadows behind them—black and white—continued to stare at each other. Their gazes were filled with sorrow, and this only added to Hiro’s unease. The white figure behind Amelia seemed deeply saddened, while his dragon had slumped in defeat. Hiro raised his eyes, struggling to regain control. He slowly lowered his sword, breathing heavily and trying to calm the storm within him. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he wiped it away and turned to the professor. — "What is this?" — Hiro muttered, but his voice no longer carried its usual confidence. Professor Kramer, breathing heavily, looked at both of them, clearly shocked by what had just transpired. He had seen many things in his career, but this—two first-year students wielding ancient power—was something extraordinary. Amelia, still in a trance, hadn’t yet come to her senses. Her hands gripped the katana, her eyes vacant, though the white figure behind her had stopped moving. The professor stepped toward her, while Kaito held her back from taking any further action. Hiro, realizing the fight was over, dropped to one knee. Pain surged through him, and his dragon groaned in torment. He knew one thing—this fight was only the beginning, and the answers to all his questions lay within this strange girl who wasn’t connected to any clan, yet carried a power equal to his own. Amelia Darkness enveloped me faster than I could comprehend what was happening. Everything around me was consumed by an impenetrable void. I reached out, trying to feel something, but my hands found nothing—emptiness was everywhere. My heart tightened with anxiety, and a sense of unease filled me. Suddenly, a blinding light pierced the darkness, forcing me to shut my eyes. When I squinted them open, a majestic white dragon appeared before me. Its eyes, bright and cold like the moon, were filled with deep sorrow. I could feel that sorrow inside me, as if it were my own. Tears suddenly began to stream down my cheeks, and I couldn’t stop them. I cried without even understanding why. The feeling was too overwhelming to resist. The dragon gazed at me with its piercing eyes, then its voice echoed through the space as if the very air carried its words. — "Child, do not cry. This pain is not yours." I froze, stunned. All I could do was whisper in a choked voice: — "Where am I?" — my hands still wiped away the tears, and I barely held back from sobbing even harder. — "We are in your subconscious," — her voice was soft but firm. — "Come closer, do not be afraid." I stepped closer, never taking my eyes off her enormous, scaly head. She lowered it toward me, and, without knowing why, I slowly pressed myself against her. The dragon was cold, but in her presence, I felt warmth. It was more than just a touch—it was a connection of souls. — "Why am I here?" — I whispered, continuing to stroke her scaly face. — "My child," — her voice echoed once more, — "I did not imagine our third meeting would be like this." My eyes widened in surprise. — "Third meeting?" — my voice trembled. — "But… does that mean… the second… in my dream? That was you?" How could I have forgotten? How hadn’t I realized it right away? But the dragon remained silent. I stepped back, taking in her appearance. Her glowing white eyes seemed filled with endless sorrow, as if she could cry at any moment. Something about her sadness felt deeply familiar, as if I could feel her pain. — "Who are you?" — I tried asking again, but there was only silence in response. The white dragon sighed heavily, her chest rising and falling. It seemed like she wanted to say something but couldn’t. — "We don’t have much time," — she finally said. — "Remember: you must control the power that flows within you. The answers will come in time." Her words felt like a warning, but before I could respond, a white haze engulfed me. Everything around me spun, and I felt myself being pulled out of this strange place. When I opened my eyes again, the world came back to me harshly and suddenly. I was standing in the middle of the training field. Everything was in motion—Professor Kramer was shouting something loudly, his phoenix rising into the air with a deafening cry. Kaito stood in front of me in a fighting stance, his rapier ready to strike, and his face was tense, as if he expected another attack. Hiro, on his knees, clutched his side, his face twisted in pain. I could barely comprehend what was happening, my hands were shaking, and the katana slipped from my grasp, hitting the ground with a dull thud. My strength was leaving me faster than I could have imagined. The phoenix, created by the professor, vanished once again, returning to its master. It felt like everything around us had quieted. A gentle breeze rustled across the field, but for me, this moment felt like an eternity. Kaito, still holding me up, let out a chuckle as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. — "You finally snapped out of it?" — his voice was softer now, but fatigue and disbelief were clear in every word. He held me by the shoulder, keeping me steady. — "That was something… Do you know what you just did?" His rapier still trembled in his hand, as if he was ready to fight again at any moment. But it was over now. My body was completely drained, and my hands barely held onto his shoulder. — "Snapped out of it…" — I muttered, feeling exhaustion wash over me. — "But what was that?" I had no answer to that question. Thoughts of the white dragon swirled in my head, her words echoing in my mind. "Control your power." But how? I didn’t understand what was happening or where this energy was coming from. Hiro was still on his knees, his face contorted with pain. He struggled to stand, his eyes locking with mine. The dark flickers that had surrounded him earlier had dissipated, leaving only a heavy sense of fatigue behind. He caught his breath, then slowly wiped the blood from his lip. His eyes no longer held their usual contempt or mockery—there was surprise and even concern in them. Professor Kramer, standing nearby, exhaled deeply, his hand still glowing with the remnants of the phoenix’s magic. — "That’s enough," — he said, looking at us. — "The sparring has gotten out of control. We’ll discuss this later. Take Amelia to the infirmary immediately." Kaito smirked, still holding me upright to keep me from falling. — "That’s an understatement, Professor," — he quipped, then leaned in closer, speaking softly to me: — "You weren’t ready, Amelia. This was too much," — his voice had grown more serious, but there was a hint of admiration in it. — "But you didn’t collapse right away, and that’s something." The last of my strength was leaving me. The world around me started to blur, and I felt my consciousness slipping away like sand through my fingers. The only thing I managed to catch was Hiro’s gaze. It was intense, studying me, but the usual confidence was gone. He looked just as stunned as everyone else. My knees buckled, and if it weren’t for Kaito, I would have fallen to the ground. He caught me, holding me tightly. — "Come on, stay with me," — he said quietly, but it was already too late. The last thing I heard before I slipped into darkness was his exasperated chuckle and a whisper: — "Damn it, girl, you’re going to surprise me yet." The darkness swallowed me completely.