The sun had already begun to dip below the horizon, casting a deep orange hue across the academy grounds as the grueling first day finally drew to a close.
Some cadets were immediately taken to the med-bay, their bodies practically dragging along the floor, placed in stasis chambers for accelerated healing. Others, barely standing, managed to shuffle their way to the dorms, peeling off soaked, mud-caked uniforms and collapsing into the showers like they were crawling through a battlefield.
Seyfe wasn't sure what part of him still functioned, but it was enough to limp back toward the dorm. Every step felt like he was being weighed down by the metallic sphere all over again.
"Freshen up," they said. "Dinner," they said. Right now, he'd trade both for the sweet release of unconsciousness.
Still, the hunger gnawed at his stomach like a demon, and the image of that buffet-style breakfast lingered in his mind.
He stood under the cold spray of the shower for a full minute before even moving, trying to convince himself that he wasn't actually dead.
After eventually throwing on a fresh uniform, he made his way to the cafeteria. The lighting was softer now, the buzz of cadets lower—more subdued. The same people who sprinted, climbed, swam, and dragged death-sized objects across the field now sat quietly, too tired to speak, just chewing with a thousand-yard stare.
Seyfe grabbed a tray, loaded it with whatever looked the least like rehydrated sludge, and found a small table in the far corner—his unofficial territory, apparently.
He took a seat, letting out a long breath. "First day down," he muttered, stabbing a piece of meat with his fork. "Only gods know how many more to go."
Seyfe glared in their direction from across the room, chewing his food like it owed him answers.
The trio—the silver-haired guy who looked like he could meditate through an earthquake, the tattooed-neck girl who always seemed amused by everyone's suffering, and the short silver-haired girl with those glowing yellow eyes—were somehow laughing. Actually laughing.
Seyfe squinted. "What do these monsters even eat to be this... alive?" he muttered under his breath.
The tall guy calmly spooned soup like he was at a spa retreat. The tattooed girl was eating what looked like three full plates of different food groups, talking with her mouth full. And the small one? She had stacked her tray like a child let loose in a candy shop—bread, eggs, fruit, something vaguely glowing purple—and still had room to hum a cheerful tune between bites.
It didn't make sense. Everyone else looked like they'd seen death and been told to race it.
Meanwhile, those three looked like they were thriving.
Seyfe dropped his fork with a metallic clink and rubbed his face. "Nah. Something's not right with those three," he mumbled, staring down at his mystery meat. "Either they've been through this before… or they're not even human."
Still, part of him wondered—if he wanted to survive, maybe learning from monsters wasn't such a bad idea.
Seyfe leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath as he watched the trio from the corner of his eye. That curiosity—the little voice nudging him to figure them out—was quickly drowned out by another, louder voice in his head:
You're already halfway to crazy, no need to jump off the ledge with them.
With a small shake of his head, he stood up, tray in hand. "Screw it. I need rest, not more mysteries."
He dumped what was left of his food and headed toward the dorms, his muscles screaming with every step. The thought of that cement-like mattress didn't comfort him, but at least it was a place to collapse. As he passed under the flickering hallway lights, a weight settled in his chest—not exhaustion, but anticipation. The kind that came before a storm.
Commanding Veilers.
That title alone carried weight, and knowing Aki was the squadron's leader only made it heavier. She wasn't just some passerby anymore—she was the one who'd decide how much hell he'd be crawling through from here on out.
"Great," he muttered. "Babysat by the one person who knows exactly how stubborn I am."
He shoved open the dorm door, kicked off his shoes, and dropped face-first into the bed. The fan still buzzed like a dying insect above him, but he didn't care. Tomorrow could bring another circus of near-death trials and unexplained superhumans.
But for now?
He just needed a damn hour of sleep.
His body was heavy, the kind of weight that comes from exhaustion so deep it wraps around your bones—but that flicker, that subtle shift in the shadows near his desk, jerked his eyes open just enough.
There was something there.
Barely a silhouette, just a suggestion of movement. The kind of thing your brain tries to explain away with logic. It's nothing, a coat hanging weird, maybe just the wind. Except there was no coat. And the window wasn't open.
Seyfe didn't move. His breath slowed, controlled. One eye cracked open while the rest of his body played dead.
The figure didn't vanish.
Instead, it lingered—like it knew he was watching now. Like it had been waiting for that.
His pulse quickened. Memories of the Dead City came flooding in—shadows that watched, voices that whispered from the ruins, things that weren't supposed to be real but felt too close.
Very slowly, his hand reached under his pillow, feeling for anything to grip—anything he could use.
And just then, the figure tilted its head.
Like it was studying him.
Like it recognized him.
"...You've got to be kidding me," he whispered under his breath.
The lights flickered. Once. Twice.
Then the figure was gone.
No footsteps. No sound. Just a sudden void where something had just been.
Seyfe sat up, cold sweat clinging to his back.
"Rest, huh?" he muttered. "Not in this lifetime."
He didn't sleep after that. Just stared at the corner of the room, heart pacing faster than any training drill.
The fan buzzed like an angry wasp stuck in his skull, drilling its way through what little peace he might've had left. Seyfe groaned, shoving off the thin blanket and sitting up with a glare toward the ceiling.
"Every morning. Every damn morning."
He rubbed his eyes, swung his legs off the bed, and pushed himself up with a quiet grunt. His muscles ached from the punishment of yesterday's trials—the kind of ache that made it feel like his bones were dragging behind him.
Still, he moved.
Sleep-deprived, sore, and a little bit paranoid from the night before, but he moved.
Down the hall and into the corridor that led to the cafeteria, he joined the trickle of cadets who looked just as dead-eyed as he did. Some limped. Others were practically sleepwalking. A few were being half-dragged by their squadmates.
The cafeteria, once again, was buzzing with the scent of food that looked too good for a government facility—an eerie contrast to the dread hanging in the air.
Seyfe grabbed a tray. His eyes scanned the room on instinct.
And just like clockwork, the trio of them were already at their table. The tattooed girl was laughing at something. The silver-haired guy sat still, eyes closed. And the short girl—golden-eyed and still too cheerful—was poking at her food like it was some kind of science experiment.
Seyfe sighed. "And they're already acting like they own the place."
He found a spot in the corner again, far from the noise, and started to eat, still glancing at the trio from time to time.
Then he paused mid-bite.
That corner of his dorm last night?
Still stuck in his mind. Still too real to ignore.
He wondered if anyone else saw anything. Or if that thing—whatever it was—had come just for him.
A subtle buzz vibrated against Seyfe's wrist, followed by the soft chime of a notification. He blinked, checked the Cellik, and arched a brow.
Notification:[Today's training will consist of classroom-based lessons. Report to Lecture Hall C at 0800 sharp. Physical training is temporarily suspended.]
For a moment, there was silence in the cafeteria… then came the soft murmur of others checking their own Celliks. Like a ripple across still water, groans turned into sighs of relief, and some even dared to let out quiet cheers.
Even Seyfe couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope tug at his exhausted brain. "No mountain climbs… no drowning simulations… no dragging metal boulders," he muttered under his breath. "Finally."
The once somber air around the cadets started to shift. Forks clinked a little louder, backs straightened just a bit, and someone near the juice station actually cracked a joke—something about having enough energy to actually chew for once.
Seyfe kept eating, slower now, almost enjoying the food. Even if it was just for a day, the break was welcomed. He glanced at the trio again.
The tattooed girl leaned back in her chair with a lazy grin, clearly also having read the message. The short silver-haired girl gave a small clap of delight, and the tall guy… well, he didn't even blink. Still meditating mid-toast like a machine.
"Even monsters need classroom time, huh?" Seyfe muttered with a tired smirk, finishing off his breakfast. "Let's see what kind of brainwashing they'll try today."
With his tray cleared and spirits marginally lifted, he made his way toward Lecture Hall C—his steps a little less heavy than the day before.