[Amelia POV]
I don't like this.
Amelia's thoughts echoed softly in her head as she walked toward the Academy's main hall—the largest one, where most official events took place.
Her steps were light but hesitant, as if her body moved on its own while her mind wrestled with uncertainty.
She was dressed in simple, comfortable clothes, the kind she usually wore when walking around campus.
I thought about wearing something prettier… maybe a nice dress. But everything that's been happening lately feels too much like that dream. And now, I'm scared to look too cheerful. Like I might jinx something.
Today was supposed to be a happy occasion. A banquet was arranged for the newly promoted second-years, a little celebration for their growth—especially since the third-years hadn't returned yet, and the fourth-years were mostly out on missions.
But no matter how hard she tried, Amelia couldn't shake off the unease curling deep in her chest.
I haven't told anyone about the dream yet... mostly because I don't know if it was just a nightmare or something more. What if it's the future?
Is this what fate affinity feels like? Is it waking up inside me? But... Grandpa never said anything about dreams.
She hugged herself for a moment, not because it was cold, but because she didn't know what else to do. Her mind was a mess, tangled between fear and confusion.
Just then, a voice called out from behind.
"Hey, Amelia."
She turned on instinct, spotting Lyra, Grace, and Elysia walking toward her. All three of them wore similar casual clothes—not flashy, not formal, just comfortable enough to move freely.
That made her blink.
Why are they all in normal clothes too...?
Lyra tilted her head slightly as their eyes met. "She's also wearing regular clothes," she said, her purple hair catching the sunlight as her green eyes flicked toward Amelia's outfit.
"Did you tell her to wear something easy to fight in?" Grace asked Elysia, glancing over with a raised brow.
"I didn't say anything to her," Elysia answered, calm and direct as always.
Fight...?
The word stuck in Amelia's mind like a stone dropped in still water.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice sharper than before as the tension finally began to show.
Lyra stepped closer and replied softly, "Elysia thinks there might be an attack during the banquet. She wanted us to stay alert."
"That's why we're dressed like this," Grace added, her tone cheerful despite the weight of her words. "These clothes are easier to move in. Also, don't worry! I'll be there, so if anyone gets hurt, I'll heal them in no time!"
Her proud little puff of the chest made Amelia smile weakly—but the knot in her stomach only tightened.
No... this can't be...
She looked at Elysia with quiet panic growing behind her eyes, "How can you be so sure something's going to happen?"
Elysia's answer came slowly, her voice steady but laced with something heavier. "I have the Moon's Blessing. And lately... I've just had this feeling, a really bad one. But I don't have any proof. If I told the instructors, they'd think we were just imagining things, maybe even causing trouble."
If she's right… if there really is going to be an attack, then that dream wasn't just a dream.
"Yeah, and demons attacking the academy?" Grace laughed lightly. "That sounds like something out of a fantasy story. I mean, come on. What are the chances?"
Elysia didn't even flinch at the teasing. Her gaze stayed fixed on Amelia as she said, "Even if others don't believe it... it's better to be prepared than regret it later, don't you think?"
That last part wasn't a suggestion—it felt like a test. Like she wanted Amelia to understand the weight of the choice she was making.
That was the moment Amelia realized just how wrong she'd been to stay silent. She should've done something—anything. At the very least, she should've tried to be more prepared… more proactive.
"Y-Yeah… you're right," Amelia nodded, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lyra stepped forward and placed two small vials in her hand—one red, one glowing faint blue. "Here. Mana recovery and a healing potion. Just in case."
Amelia took them silently. Her fingers trembled slightly as she curled them around the glass. She knew what they were, of course—but holding them made everything feel far more real.
If what she says is true... and if my dream is actually turning into reality...
Then no instructor will be able to stop what's coming.
Because...
***
Are they seriously using an Advanced Space Isolation Orb...?
Ash's pupils shrank slightly as his gaze fixed on the small black orb casually rolling between the fingers of one of the two.
Those goddamn bastards.
He recognized it immediately—black, dull and small but deadly. The orb could create a closed space and forcibly expel anyone whose core rank exceeded the user's. Even powerful instructors, no matter how skilled, would find themselves unable to resist.
If they activate that here… every instructor will be ejected from the hall. Only students will be left inside.
A sick feeling twisted in his gut.
His jaw clenched imperceptibly.
The banquet hall was large and grand, bathed in a warm, golden light that poured down from crystal chandeliers floating mid-air.
Tables lined the sides of the room, covered in silver platters stacked with roasted meats, colorful desserts, and sparkling glasses of drinks. A soft orchestral tune played in the background, casting a dreamy atmosphere—the kind meant to dull your instincts.
And that's exactly what worried him.
They're mocking us, aren't they? Not even trying to hide it. Walking around with that thing in plain sight, and no one's batting an eye.
Students laughed. They clinked glasses. Some were busy trying to flirt, while others stuffed themselves with food. But none looked twice at the orb.
His cold gaze didn't waver. He watched them without staring too hard—careful not to draw attention. He still remembered that sharp, instinctive moment back on the rooftop, when both of them had turned their heads toward him, as if they knew.
I had a hunch... but watching their behavior now, there's no doubt left. It really is them—Miraak and Zerak. The Twin Calamity.
No visible reaction crossed his face, but inside, he cursed the hell out of his luck.
Why the hell do they have to be here?
Of all places, of all timelines.
And worse—this time, they were pretending to be students. Blending into the world he had barely begun to reshape.
They were monsters—not in name, but in truth. One was a master of curses, the other specialized in brutal close combat, always moving faster than you could track. Fighting them separately was bad enough. Together? They were a nightmare.
Well... at least I'm immune to curses. But the others...
He didn't finish the thought. He didn't need to. The bitter taste in his mouth said enough.
Ash had been the first to arrive at the banquet. Not because he cared about the celebration—but because he needed to keep an eye on the enemy before the chaos began.
He adjusted his sleeves, glancing around. His gray shirt was loosely buttoned, tucked neatly into his black trousers. He didn't wear his training uniform beneath his clothes today.
The banquet hall was glowing—bright lights, flowing music, elegant decorations. Tables lined with food, drinks, sweets.
But only students from Classes 1S, 1A, and 1B—both first and second years—had been invited tonight. The ones with high mana potential, combat skill, or political value.
Class 1C, 1D, and 1E?
Left behind. As always.
The academy had called it a "merit-based celebration." A way to "reward excellence" and "foster future leaders."
But the truth?
They didn't want to deal with the chaos. The noise. The lack of discipline.
Those classes were too rough around the edges, too unpredictable. Too... normal. And in the Academy's eyes, normal was dangerous when gathered in large numbers.
They just didn't want to risk chaos. They only care about stability and image.
And honestly?
I don't give a damn if half of these arrogant bastards die tonight.
He didn't believe in noble sacrifices. Ash never claimed to be a hero. If the choice was between saving one person he cared about, or letting millions burn—he'd choose the one every time.
But even now, a part of him whispered doubt.
And yet… Elysia's behavior is so strange lately.
She was asking questions. Acting warm. Too warm. And it was throwing him off.
She's getting comfortable around me again... and I don't know if that's good or dangerous.
He couldn't lie—being around her made something inside him feel lighter. Like breathing came easier. Like the weight he always carried didn't feel so heavy.
But that made him more afraid.
What if someone targets her to get to me...?
He couldn't stomach that thought. He'd already failed her once. The idea of failing again made his hands tremble—not from fear, but from the unbearable weight of love he couldn't protect.
And as if summoned by his thoughts, she arrived.
He straightened just slightly, eyes drawn toward the entrance.
Elysia. Along with Amelia, Lyra, and Grace.
They stepped into the hall like the calm before a storm. Soft footsteps echoed lightly over marble tiles. Their presence drew eyes like gravity—dozens of boys turning their heads, stealing glances, whispering too loudly.
Some bolder ones even took a step forward, hope blooming in their eyes.
But a sharp look from Grace and a cold, clear gaze from Elysia rooted them in place.
The room stayed loud. The lights still shimmered.
But for Ash?
Everything had suddenly gone quiet.
***