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A Shattered World
Chapter Eighteen: The Master's Return

Chapter Eighteen: The Master's Return

The moon hung low over NovaMyst Academy, its silvery light casting long shadows across the grounds. The faint hum of Aetherium-powered lamps lined the pathways, their glow flickering softly in the cool night air. Chloe pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she made her way through the campus, her steps quick and purposeful. She had made up her mind—she needed to talk to Lillian.

As she approached the vice headmaster's office, she hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the door handle. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Lillian looked up from his desk, surprise flickering across his face before settling into his usual calm demeanour.

"Chloe," he said, setting down the papers he had been reviewing. "What brings you here again, at this hour nonetheless?"

She didn't waste any time. "I need you to grant an absence of leave for me, Elysia, Anton, Irina, Susana, and Evan."

Lillian's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "An absence of leave? Why?"

Chloe squared her shoulders, her gaze unwavering. "We need to go find Nate. We need to fix the mess the families have created by signing that warrant. They acted on the request of a criminal organization, and we can't just sit by and do nothing."

Lillian's expression darkened with confusion. "A criminal organization? What are you talking about?"

"The Syndicate," Chloe said, her voice sharp. "They're involved in this hunt for Nate, and that's exactly why we have to find him."

Lillian's eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into his tone. "And how do you know about the Syndicate's involvement, Chloe?"

"That's not important," she snapped. "What matters is that we need to find Nate before the Syndicate does."

Lillian stood, his chair scraping against the floor. "I'm afraid I can't authorize this."

Chloe's eyes widened with anger and disbelief. "You can't? Or you won't?"

Lillian's silence spoke volumes, and Chloe's mind raced. She took a step closer, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "Did you know? Did you know about the Syndicate's involvement all along?"

Lillian's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. His silence only fuelled Chloe's anger, her emotions a whirlwind of betrayal and confusion.

"Answer me!" she demanded, her voice rising. "Did you know?"

Lillian finally met her gaze, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions. "First of all, keep your voice down. No one will be happy if they, A- see a student in a teacher's office at night, and B- see said student then screaming at said teacher. Also, What does it matter if I knew or not?"

"It matters because you're supposed to be on our side," Chloe shot back, her voice breaking. "But if you knew about this and did nothing, then you're no better than the families who signed that warrant."

Lillian's expression hardened. "I, as the next head of house Vossen also supported that signature. You don't understand the complexities of this situation, Chloe. The Syndicate is dangerous, and going after Nate could put all of you at risk."

"And letting him face this alone is any better?" she retorted. "He's out there, fighting for his life, and you're telling me to do nothing?"

Lillian's voice lowered, a rare edge of frustration cutting through his calm facade. "I'm telling you to think. To understand that this isn't a simple matter of right and wrong. There are forces at play here that you can't even begin to comprehend."

Chloe's eyes flashed with defiance. "Then explain it to me. Help me understand, because right now, all I see is someone who is too scared to act."

Lillian took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You think this is fear? This is survival, Chloe. The Syndicate isn't just another enemy—they're a shadow that can crush you without leaving a trace."

Lillian's eyes softened slightly, but his frustration was still evident. "And what exactly am I supposed to understand, Chloe? That you're so desperate to save Nate that you're willing to risk everything? That you're willing to throw your life away for him?"

"Yes!" she shouted, her voice cracking with emotion. "Because he's worth it. Because he's my friend. And because I care about him."

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Lillian's expression shifted, a flicker of something raw and unguarded flashing across his face.

"And what about me?" he asked quietly. "Do you care about me?"

Chloe's breath caught, her heart pounding in her chest. "Lillian, this—"

He cut her off, his voice trembling with frustration and something else she couldn't quite place. "Why are you coming to me, Chloe? You're a Rawllings. Yet here you are, acting like a child afraid to tell her parents she wants to change the TV channel to watch her favourite cartoon because she's scared, they'll get mad at her."

The comparison stung, and Chloe's eyes filled with tears. "That's not fair."

Lillian's voice softened, but the intensity remained. "Life isn't fair. But if you want my help, you need to be honest with yourself about why you're really here."

Chloe opened her mouth to argue, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she turned away, her shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. Lillian watched her, his own heart aching with the turmoil of their shared feelings.

After a long moment, he sighed deeply. "I'll see what I can do," he said quietly. "But understand this, Chloe—this isn't just about Nate. It's about all of you. And if you go down this path, there's no turning back."

Chloe wiped her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know."

"Don't mention it."

Lillian leaned back in his chair, the weight of Chloe's request evident on his face. "I'll approve the leave," he said, his voice firm. "But I can only authorize a week. Any longer, and the Academy will start asking questions I can't cover for. And you'll have to decide amongst yourselves who goes. A large group leaving all at once will raise red flags, especially with the families involved."

Chloe nodded, relief washing over her. "Thank you."

Lillian didn't look up from his desk as he added, "But be careful, Chloe. This isn't a game. If you fail, it won't just be your futures at risk—it'll be your lives."

Her gratitude was tinged with unease. She knew what he meant, but it didn't matter. They had to find Nate.

The next morning, the student council room was filled with tension. Elysia sat at the head of the table, her heterochromatic eyes scanning the faces of her friends. Chloe stood to her right, arms crossed, while Anton leaned against the wall with his characteristic calm. Irina, Susana, and Evan were seated around the table, each wearing a thoughtful expression.

"We've been granted a week," Chloe announced, cutting through the silence. "Lillian approved it, but only a few of us can go. Too many, and we'll draw attention."

"So, who's staying?" Anton asked, his tone measured.

Irina spoke up, her voice steady. "I'll stay. If the entire student council disappears, it'll look suspicious. I can tell the administration I'm taking on extra responsibilities as training for next year."

Evan nodded. "Same here. Someone from the enforcers needs to stay behind to keep things running smoothly. I'll cover for Anton."

Chloe frowned. "You're sure? This is about Nate."

Evan gave a small smile. "And that's why I'm staying. If things fall apart here, it won't help him. Besides, you'll need me to make sure no one questions why you're all gone."

Elysia nodded in agreement. "Irina and Evan staying makes sense. That leaves me, Chloe, Anton, and Susana."

Susana glanced at the vial she always carried, the faint glow of Aetherium visible through the glass. "I need to go. This vial has ties to the Abyss District—If there's a chance it'll lead us to Nate, I have to follow it."

Chloe placed a hand on Susana's shoulder. "Then it's settled. The four of us will go."

Anton nodded. "We'll need to move carefully. The Abyss District isn't just dangerous—it's unpredictable. We can't afford any mistakes."

The Abyss District was alive with chaos. Nate stood atop a crumbling rooftop, his keen eyes scanning the labyrinthine streets below. The district had become a battlefield, its people caught between desperation and newfound power. Counterfeit CAT devices flickered with unstable energy, and poorly calibrated implants sparked like live wires. The air was thick with tension, the scent of oil and blood mingling with the acrid tang of burning Aetherium.

Nate adjusted the makeshift hood that covered his face. His clothes were tattered, his body leaner than it had been weeks ago. He had adapted to this world, but at a cost. His nights were spent hunting for supplies, his days protecting those who couldn't defend themselves. And in between, he fought—a relentless cycle of quelling riots, stopping reckless militias, and dismantling overzealous enforcement squads.

He leaped from the rooftop, landing silently in a shadowed alley. His senses were sharp, every sound and flicker of light a potential threat. As he rounded a corner, he saw a group of children huddled together, their faces smudged with dirt. They stared at him with wide eyes, clutching scavenged scraps of food.

"Get inside," Nate said gruffly, his voice hoarse. "It's not safe out here."

The oldest child, a girl no older than twelve, nodded quickly and ushered the others into the safety of a derelict building. Nate watched them go, a pang of guilt twisting in his chest. He had done everything he could to keep the district from spilling into the rest of New London, but the cost was high. Every riot he stopped, every gang he dismantled—it was never enough.

As he turned to leave, he heard the distant crackle of Aetherium weapons. Another fight had broken out. Nate gritted his teeth, the scar on his chest burning faintly as he vanished into the shadows.

The group entered the Abyss District under the cover of night, their cloaks pulled tight against the biting wind. The district was a far cry from the polished streets of NovaMyst. Flickering neon signs illuminated graffiti-covered walls, and the hum of unstable CAT devices filled the air. The streets were alive with danger—shady vendors peddling illegal implants, gangs staking out territory, and desperate individuals scavenging for scraps.

Susana clutched the glowing vial in her hand, her eyes scanning the chaotic scene.

Elysia's heterochromatic eyes glowed faintly as she activated her ability, the threads of Aetherium revealing faint traces of magic. "Stay close," she warned. "We don't know what we're walking into."

As they ventured deeper, they encountered a makeshift school tucked into a ruined building. A young woman stood at the front, her voice steady as she taught a small group of children about basic Aetherium mechanics. It was a rare moment of hope amidst the chaos.

Chloe paused, watching the scene with a mix of surprise and sadness. "They're still trying to hold on to something," she murmured.

Elysia nodded. "It's not all destruction. Some of them are still fighting for a better future."

But the respite was short-lived. As they moved further into the district, they found themselves surrounded by a group of heavily augmented individuals. The gang members' CAT devices crackled ominously, their weapons glowing with unstable energy.

"Outsiders," one of them sneered, his mechanical arms whirring as he raised a glowing blade. "You don't belong here."

The group braced themselves, but they were holding back—unwilling to unleash their full power against people they knew had suffered enough. It was a mistake.

The gang attacked with brutal efficiency, their augmented bodies moving faster than the group had anticipated. Chloe was forced to dodge a barrage of energy blasts, while Susana narrowly avoided a blade aimed at her throat. Elysia dismantled a spell mid-cast, but the sheer number of opponents overwhelmed them.

Anton gritted his teeth as he parried an attack with his CAT device, but the strain was evident. "We underestimated them," he growled. "We need to retreat."

Before they could act, a shadow descended from above. Nate moved like a spectre, his strikes precise and devastating. In seconds, the gang was disarmed and incapacitated, their CAT devices sparking uselessly on the ground.

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The group stared in shock as Nate straightened, his hood falling back to reveal his gaunt face and piercing eyes.

"Took you long enough," Nate said, his voice hoarse but laced with dry humour. "What, no welcome party?"

Chloe was the first to recover, a mixture of relief and frustration flashing across her face. "You idiot," she said, her voice trembling. "Do you have any idea what you've put us through?"

Nate smirked faintly, but the exhaustion in his eyes was evident. "You came all this way just to yell at me?"

Elysia stepped forward, her gaze softening. "We came to bring you back."

Nate's expression hardened. "Back to what? The families want me dead. The Syndicate, whatever that is, wants me. There's nothing to go back to."

"That's not true," Elysia said firmly. "You still have us."

Nate's faint smirk twisted into something colder, sharper. "Oh, you mean the people that put a giant fucking hunt sign on my forehead?" His voice was hoarse and dry, yet it carried a bitterness that sliced through the tension in the air. "No thank you, milady. I'm good."

Elysia stepped forward, her heterochromatic eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and pleading. "It wasn't us, Nate. It wasn't even the families, not really. The Syndicate orchestrated this, and we had no idea."

Nate's gaze darkened, scepticism clear in the set of his jaw. "Syndicate? Sounds like another convenient excuse for you royals to clean your hands of your messes. Enlighten me—who are they, and why the hell are they after me? Because the last guy I had a nice chat with mentioned them too."

Anton, standing at the edge of the group, stepped forward. His voice was measured, steady. "The Syndicate is... complicated. They're a shadow organization that operates across all levels of society—government, corporations, even the military. Their focus is on illegal experiments, unregulated Aetherium tech, and anything else they can exploit to gain control." He paused, his gaze shifting slightly as if deliberating how much to reveal. "Why they want you? I don't know. But it's never for anything good."

Nate crossed his arms, his expression still guarded. "And you're all just figuring this out now? Convenient timing."

"Nate, listen to us," Chloe cut in, her tone tinged with desperation. "The families—We didn't know. And the things you pushed for back at the academy? They're working. The changes, the reforms—it's starting to happen. You didn't do all of that for nothing."

For the first time, Nate faltered, his sharp retort catching in his throat. He glanced between Chloe and Elysia, the weight of their words pulling at something deep inside him.

Seeing his hesitation, Chloe pressed harder, her voice calm and resolute. "Nate, you're smart. You know how things work. You were always the one pointing out the cracks in the system, the inefficiencies. What you started—it's making a difference. But you can't do it from here. You can't make real change by running."

Nate's lips parted as if to reply, but Elysia stepped closer, her voice softer now as she chimes in. "You believed in something better, Nate. That's why you fought so hard to change things. Don't throw that away because of what they did. And don't throw us away," Elysia added quietly, stepping closer. Her voice wavered slightly, but her conviction was clear. "Whatever they did, it doesn't erase what we've shared, or what we've built."

Chloe's voice softened as well, her expression vulnerable. "You're not alone, Nate. You've never been alone."

The air between them grew heavy, the unspoken tension of years of friendship and something deeper threatening to break free. Nate's gaze flickered to Chloe, then back to Elysia, as if caught between two tides pulling him in opposite directions. His lips parted, but before he could speak, Susana's voice broke through the moment.

"Nate," she said, her tone cutting through the tension with a practical edge. "Did you find anything about the vial?"

Nate exhaled, the weight of the moment dissolving as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Unfortunately, no. I haven't had time to look into it. Too busy trying not to get killed, you know?" His voice softened slightly, an apology hidden in his words. "Sorry, Susana."

Susana nodded, though disappointment flickered in her eyes. "Fair enough. But what have you been doing down here? Have you figured out anything else?"

A faint, sardonic smile played on Nate's lips. "Oh, I've figured out a few things." He gestured for them to follow him, his movements careful but deliberate. "Come on. It's easier if we have a quieter place to speak in."

As the group trekked deeper into the Abyss District, Nate paused suddenly. His sharp eyes scanned the flickering shadows that danced along the twisted alleys. Elysia noticed the change in his posture, his tension like a coiled spring.

"Something wrong?" she asked softly.

"Not sure," Nate replied, his voice low. "Just... a feeling. Like we're being watched."

Chloe exchanged a glance with Susana, who instinctively gripped the vial tighter. The faint glow from the Aetherium cores in the district didn't reach far, but the oppressive silence around them was unnerving.

"Let's keep moving," Anton said, his voice steady but firm. "We can't afford to be here long."

Nate lingered for a moment longer, his scar burning faintly against his chest. Then he nodded and followed.

Nate led them all to the place he had been staying in all this time, and the hideout was buried deep within the twisted alleys and labyrinthine corridors of the Abyss District. The picture Nate had painted of his life here—a constant battle for survival, a lone vigilante trying to stem the tide of chaos—came into sharper focus as they entered the secluded space.

The room was dimly lit, the glow of scavenged Aetherium cores casting flickering shadows across the walls. Makeshift shelves lined the space, cluttered with scraps of tech, hand-drawn maps, and improvised tools. A low table stood in the centre, scattered with notes and half-assembled devices. The faint scent of ozone and machine oil hung in the air, mingling with the damp, metallic tang of the district itself.

Elysia and Chloe exchanged a glance, both struck by how different this world was from the academy halls they had left behind. For Nate, this wasn't just a hiding place—it was a war room.

As the group settled in, Nate leaned against the table, his expression grim. "I've been keeping an eye on the district, and beyond, including other cities. What I've found... well, it raises more questions than answers."

"What do you mean?" Anton asked, his tone cautious.

Nate sighed, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. "Since the magical grid's destruction, Aetherium seems to have returned to its natural flow state. And because of that, something strange has started happening. People—ordinary people—have begun using magic."

Susana frowned. "But that's not possible. Without implants, the strain would kill them, wouldn't it?"

"That's what's supposed to happen," Nate said. "But it's not. Not always. And that's the weird part. People who shouldn't be able to tap into Aetherium are doing it. Small things, sure—a spark here, a gust of wind there—but it's happening. And no one knows why."

Chloe's brow furrowed. "Are you saying the implants don't actually give people the ability to use magic?"

"Exactly," Nate replied. "The implants don't give you anything. They just amplify what's already there. Every human—every single one—has the potential to use magic. The implants are just a way to access it faster and more efficiently."

Elysia's eyes narrowed. "Then why have implants at all? Why not let people develop their abilities naturally?"

"Because implants aren't about giving people power," Nate said bitterly. "They're about control. By making people think they need implants, the system ensures that magic stays regulated, monitored. And don't forget they 'build' you had weapons and weapons are only really efficient if they can also be mass produced, and the implants allow for that to happen. If everyone realized they could use magic without them however..." He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

Susana leaned forward, her voice cutting through the silence. "How does this connect to the other cities? You said you been looking beyond?"

Nate's expression darkened. "Because the Abyss District isn't unique. There are other places like this—other districts, other cities—where the same things are happening. The ATRA doesn't want you to know about them, but they exist. And they feed off the capital cities like parasites."

Chloe's eyes widened. "You're saying other cities are just... Abyss Districts in disguise?"

"Pretty much," Nate said. "The ATRA paints a pretty picture of unity and progress, but the truth is, the world is held together by threads. Most cities outside of capitals like New London are just barely scraping by. They're designed to be dependent, to take the brunt of the suffering so the capitals can thrive."

Elysia crossed her arms, her voice laced with scepticism. "And you're sure about this?"

"I've seen it," Nate said simply. "And it's not just about survival. These districts are pressure valves. By keeping people focused on their own survival, the ATRA ensures that no one has the time—or the energy—to think about revolution."

Chloe's voice softened as she asked, "Then was the destruction of the magical grid a good thing? Did it... give people hope?"

Nate hesitated, his gaze distant. "I don't know. Maybe. But hope can be dangerous. These people are smart, resourceful. They've been forced to adapt, to innovate. Sooner or later, something will give. And when it does..." He trailed off, his expression unreadable.

Elysia stepped closer, her voice steady. "What about us, Nate? What about NovaMyst? Where do we fit into all of this?"

Nate's gaze flicked to her, then to Chloe, the weight of their questions pressing down on him. "NovaMyst is a symptom of a much larger disease. The chaos there, the power struggles, the secrets—it's all connected to what's happening out here. You want to fix it? Start by understanding the world you're trying to save."

The room fell silent, the enormity of Nate's words sinking in. For the first time, they saw the world not as it had been presented to them, but as it truly was—fractured, fragile, and teetering on the edge of something they couldn't yet define.

"And that's not all," he said, his gaze intense. "What you're seeing here—the Abyss District, the desperation, the survival—it's not just a product of ATRA's design. It's the product of what the world became after the war."

Anton frowned, his analytical mind already racing ahead. "The war... the one that fractured the continents? You're saying all of this started there?"

Nate nodded. "After the war, the balance of power on Earth shifted. Borders were erased, merged, or completely obliterated. The result was a handful of super-regions—nations built on survival and technological dominance, but each with its own way of doing things."

He began to sketch a rough map on the dusty surface of the table, his voice taking on a grim edge as he pointed to various regions.

"First, there's Eurastra—what we live in now. Western and Northern Europe, the UK, Iceland, and even Greenland merged into one sprawling super-region. It's what we know best—clean cities, tightly regulated magic, and a government that keeps the illusion of order intact. But all of that order comes at a cost, and places like the Abyss District are part of the price they're willing to pay."

Chloe crossed her arms, her expression sceptical. "And the other regions? Are they just as bad?"

"Depends on what you mean by bad," Nate replied, his voice heavy. He pointed to another section of his makeshift map. "Take the Sovitechna Front, for example. A stronger, more advanced version of what used to be the USSR. Centuries ago, it was a political relic. Now, it's a technological powerhouse. They've mastered Aetherium implants in ways even Eurastra hasn't. But their focus isn't just on progress—it's on control. Every citizen is implanted at birth, their magic monitored from day one. It's a land of precision and paranoia."

"I suppose you have me and Irina as an example of that." Anton says.

Elysia frowned, leaning closer to the table. "And what about the Americas?"

Nate gestured to the western edge of his crude map. "The Nortechsphere Union—what used to be North America and Canada. They're innovators, the pioneers of artificial Aetherium cores and large-scale CAT networks. But their obsession with innovation has left them fractured. Corporate cities run the show there, not governments. Power shifts daily, depending on which mega Corp is winning the tech race."

He paused, his finger sliding south. "Then there's the Sudotech Alliance—South America and Brazil. They've embraced Aetherium in ways the rest of us wouldn't dare. Their cities are alive, pulsing with magic-infused jungles and living machines. But it's chaotic, dangerous. They don't have the same oversight or structure we do, and that makes them unpredictable."

Susana's gaze lingered on the map, her voice quiet but curious. "And the rest of the world?"

Nate's expression darkened. "That's where it gets complicated. Africa and Asia... they're no man's lands. ATRA's influence doesn't reach there, and neither do the laws that keep the rest of the world in check. Some areas—like Japan and South Korea—have tried to integrate pieces of Eurastra's systems, but for the most part, they're on their own. China, the Middle East, North Korea... they've rejected Aetherium almost entirely, clinging to older technologies and traditions. It's a wild card, and no one really knows what's going on there."

"Here's the thing. The destruction of the magical grid? It threw a wrench into that game. With Aetherium returning to its natural flow, people are starting to see the cracks in the system. They're realizing that they don't need implants, that they don't need the government to dictate their lives. And that... that terrifies the people in power."

Susana's voice cut through the tension, sharp and practical. "But how does any of this help us figure out what's going on with the vial? Or with the Syndicate?"

Nate hesitated, his gaze flickering toward her. "It doesn't. Not directly. But if we want to understand what the Syndicate wants—what they're planning—we need to look at the bigger picture. The Abyss District is just one piece of the puzzle. If we want answers, we need to start looking at the other districts. The other cities. Because as I've said I guarantee you, this isn't just happening here."

Elysia's voice softened as she asked, "Then what do we do, Nate? What do we fight for? The families— my family has been allowing this to happen, and I have been just living oblivious to it all."

"As a Rawllings, I don't even know what to say..." Chloe says, letting her voice trail off.

Chloe's voice hung in the air, her words trailing off as the weight of the conversation pressed down on them. The flickering glow of the Aetherium cores seemed to dim, casting darker shadows that danced ominously along the walls. For a moment, the silence was suffocating, broken only by the faint hum of machinery in the background.

And then, a voice, deep and silken, cut through the room like a blade.

"Well, well," it drawled, each word laced with an unsettling amusement. "That's a lot of strange knowledge for a mere student to have."

The group froze, their heads snapping toward the source of the voice. Standing in the doorway, framed by the faint light spilling in from the corridor beyond, was a figure draped in a long, intricately detailed coat, its dark fabric swirling with faint metallic patterns that seemed to shift with the shadows. His silver hair cascaded past his shoulders, and his piercing eyes—cold, calculating—seemed to see straight through them. His presence was overwhelming, a chilling authority that made the air feel heavier.

Nate's fists clenched at his sides, his voice a low growl. "Who the hell—"

The man stepped further into the room, his boots clicking softly against the stone floor. His movements were deliberate, almost theatrical, as though every step were part of a carefully orchestrated performance. His pale face was sharp and angular, his expression a blend of detached amusement and quiet menace.

"Come now, Mr Davis," the man said, his gaze locking onto Nate with an intensity that made the others recoil. "You don't recognize me? I'm hurt."

Elysia's breath hitched, a flicker of recognition flashing in her heterochromatic eyes. "Wait... that voice. You're—"

The man's lips curved into a faint smile, but it was devoid of warmth. "Ah, the princess remembers. How charming. Though I suppose she recognizes the 'wrong' me." His gaze swept over the group, lingering briefly on each of them as though.

allow me to reintroduce myself. I was once the Master of Ceremonies at your beloved academy. But things have... changed."

Anton's eyes narrowed, his voice cold and edged with suspicion. "You vanished after the attack. Everyone thought you were dead."

The man tilted his head, his silver hair catching the dim light like threads of woven steel. "Dead? No, not quite. Let's just say I've been... repurposed." His smile widened slightly, but it only made him look more predatory. "And what an interesting little reunion this is. I've been watching, listening. And I must say, the things you've uncovered... fascinating."

Chloe stepped forward, her voice trembling with a mix of curiosity and defiance. "What do you want?"

The man ignored her, his piercing gaze returning to Nate. His voice dropped, becoming colder, heavier. "But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by all this, considering you're not a normal student, are you... Drakkar?"

Elysia's hand instinctively moved toward her CAT, and Anton's response was immediate. His voice rang out, calm and methodical. "Activating Combat Mode."

In an instant, Anton's arms moved with inhuman speed, his fingers weaving intricate patterns into his dual CATs, as Aether Script flared to life around him. The glowing sequences of code twisted and merged, forming into sleek, lethal constructs that hovered around him like predatory Specters. The air crackled with energy as Anton launched forward, his constructs slicing through the air with pinpoint precision.

"ANTON, DON'T!" Nate's voice thundered through the room, raw and urgent.

But it was too late. Anton's attack closed the distance in a flash, the energy of his CATs screaming toward the enigmatic figure.

The man didn't flinch. He simply stood there, his eerie smile never faltering, as though he had been expecting this all along.

And then—darkness. A sudden, oppressive wave of shadow surged through the room, swallowing the light and silencing the hum of Aetherium. It was cold, suffocating, and absolute.

The last thing they heard was the Master of Ceremonies' voice, calm and resonant, cutting through the black void like a dirge.

"Such impatience. How very human of you."

And then—nothing.