"Kyren, what happened?" Hiro asked, his voice tinged with concern as he stepped closer.

"I killed… Calir..." Kyren confessed, his voice trembling, eyes dark and haunted.

Hiro's expression hardened, the warmth fading from his gaze, replaced by a chilling disappointment. "I knew it, Kyren..."

"I'm sorry, Hiro. I just… I did it to survive," Kyren explained, his words pleading for understanding. His hands were shaking, still feeling the phantom weight of the blow he’d struck in his nightmare.

"Yeah, I knew it…" Hiro's voice was low, his tone icy. "I knew you were evil from the start." He turned, his back rigid as he walked away. "Criminal."

"HIRO!" Kyren shouted, reaching out in desperation, his hand grasping at nothing as Hiro’s figure faded away.

…

"Kyren!" A different voice broke through, pulling Kyren from the abyss of his dream. His eyes shot open, and he was met with the sterile, white walls of the Academy Clinic. A strong antiseptic smell filled the air, grounding him in reality. He blinked, disoriented, feeling the lingering dread of the dream clinging to his chest.

Hiro, Zeeha, Vilon, and Beatrix stood nearby, their faces a mix of relief and concern.

"You're awake…" Hiro said, his expression softer now, though Kyren could still see a shadow of worry in his friend’s eyes.

“We knew what happened…” Zeeha said softly, her voice carrying a weight that made Kyren’s stomach twist.

"What happened to Calir?" Kyren's voice was barely above a whisper, feeling a dread he couldn’t fully understand. He braced himself, still caught between the nightmare and reality.

"He's in bad condition, but the medics are trying their best," Beatrix replied, her gaze steady but sympathetic.

Kyren looked at Hiro, his mind replaying the painful images from his nightmare. "Hiro…" he whispered, his voice thick with guilt.

Hiro's face reflected a swirl of emotions—disappointment, worry, and a hint of sorrow. He hesitated before speaking. "Kyren… I'm sorry. I couldn't do anything. I'm so… useless." His voice cracked, and he looked down, clearly struggling with his own feelings of inadequacy.

Kyren reached out, placing a firm hand on Hiro's back in reassurance. "No, Hiro. You’re not useless. I miscalculated what Calir was capable of. It’s my fault, not yours.”

After a pause, Kyren turned to Zeeha, and he slipped the ring and gloves off, holding them out to her. "Zeeha, I didn’t mean to take these from you without permission, but…"

Zeeha stepped forward, taking them gently from him with a small, understanding smile. "No, Kyren. You did what you had to do. This was the best scenario we could have hoped for. Thank you—you saved us all a lot.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing in the hallway, followed by a group of students entering the clinic, led by a familiar, authoritative figure: Roger Blake.

"Congratulations on your victory, kid," Roger said, approaching Kyren, his voice filled with a grudging respect.

"Mr. 3rd!" Vilon exclaimed, his voice tinged with awe.

"The 3rd GA!" Hiro moved to step closer, but two of Roger’s members blocked his path, pushing him back slightly.

"You’ve proven yourself worthy in this academy," Roger continued, his gaze intense as he assessed Kyren.

"Yeah," Kyren replied, casting a glance out the window, as if seeking clarity in the distant landscape.

Roger’s gaze softened, and he gave a slight nod to one of his members, who stepped forward holding a cloth-wrapped object. "I have a present for you, and I hope you’ll accept it.” Roger gestured toward the gift, and Kyren looked down as the cloth was unwrapped, revealing an intricately crafted dagger. The blade gleamed, with faint etchings glinting along its surface. "It’s the Dagger of The Fallen Angel, crafted by the current leader of the Cassadine's Dynasty Guild.”

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Kyren’s eyes widened in recognition, memories sparking of stories he’d heard about the Cassadine’s Dynasty. "The Cassadine’s Dynasty Guild… it’s the guild Alaine always dreamed of joining…” he thought, feeling a surge of both curiosity and caution.

Roger held the dagger out, his eyes unwavering. "I know you're smart enough to figure out how to use it. This is the first time I've given such a mystic item to someone outside my own circle, but I see potential in you. I believe you’ll pass and go far in achieving your dreams." Roger extended his hand for a handshake, a silent offer of alliance.

Kyren hesitated, glancing down at the outstretched hand before meeting Roger’s gaze. "Thank you, sir… but I don’t think I can accept it. We're not in the same section or team." His words were calm but firm, and Roger’s hand hung in the air for a beat, his expression unreadable.

"Kyren!" Hiro tried to interject, his voice a mixture of awe and concern at what he perceived as Kyren's audacity.

Roger’s gaze sharpened briefly before he let out a chuckle. "I see. Then how about this—you join my team?”

Kyren shook his head, his gaze steady. "Sir, as much as I respect you, I have friends here who I need on my journey, and a guild that’s waiting for me after this training. I can't accept your offer." His voice held a quiet conviction that echoed through the room.

Roger’s lips curved into a small smile, a glint of respect in his eyes. "That’s the right answer. I see a glimpse of my younger self in you. Alright, I won’t push further, but take this gift. Consider it a token of my approval.” He extended the dagger once more, this time without the handshake.

"Okay, sir," Kyren replied, and this time, he accepted the dagger, feeling the cool weight of the blade in his hand. Roger Blake nodded, then turned and left with his group.

The room fell into a hushed awe as Hiro took the dagger from Kyren’s hand, his eyes wide with excitement. "Whoa, Kyren, this dagger is so light and sharp!" he said, marveling at the craftsmanship.

"Kyren, that dagger is a mythical item… There’s only one like it in existence,” Beatrix added, her voice tinged with reverence.

"Looks like you're a millionaire now, Kyren," Zeeha joked, though her eyes sparkled with genuine pride.

“But…” Beatrix’s voice softened, her gaze turning thoughtful. “I heard that dagger is famously mysterious and… useless if the wielder isn’t the ‘chosen one.’”

Kyren’s eyes narrowed, the phrase “chosen one” echoing ominously in his mind.

As he tightened his grip on the dagger, a strange sensation washed over him. A distorted sound filled his ears, a low hum that quickly grew into an overwhelming roar. His heart pounded wildly, as if trying to burst from his chest. The girl from his nightmare flickered before his eyes, her face twisted in anger, her gaze burning into him. He couldn’t endure the searing pain any longer.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGH!" Kyren screamed, hurling the dagger away as he stumbled back, gasping for air.

“What happened, Kyren?” Hiro asked, his face a mix of concern and fear.

Kyren clutched his chest, his breaths shallow as he tried to compose himself. “I… I don’t know. That dagger… it feels like it’s alive. Like it hates me.”

One by one, the others picked up the dagger, but none of them felt anything unusual. Hiro’s eyes widened with excitement. "KYREN! Maybe you are the ‘chosen one!’”

“Yeah,” Zeeha said thoughtfully, “maybe it just needs time. Maybe you need to… tame it?”

But Kyren shook his head slowly, a gnawing feeling of dread settling in. “No… there’s something wrong about that dagger…”

He looked down at his hands, still feeling the lingering pain. His thoughts drifted to the girl in his nightmare and the mysterious origins of the weapon. "The creator of that dagger… I wonder if they’re somehow connected to the girl I keep seeing.”

“Do you guys know who leads the Cassadine’s Dynasty Guild?” Kyren asked, hoping for some clarity.

Vilon nodded slightly. "I knew the former leader… a legendary figure known as ‘The Darklord Slayer.’ But the current leader? I’m not sure."

“Me neither,” Zeeha added. “I don’t know much about this ‘Fallen Angel’.”

"I heard she’s the granddaughter of ‘The Darklord Slayer,’” Beatrix said. “But even at the Triumph Tournament, she never appeared.”

“Really?” Hiro chimed in. “That’s incredible. It’d be amazing to see her in action someday!”

“The next Tournament of Triumph, huh…” Kyren murmured. His gaze hardened as he thought about the potential link between the mysterious girl and the dagger. “I think I need to go there. I need to find out who she is. She might have answers… and I still need to deliver the scroll to Rezhura.”

Just then, an official entered the clinic, interrupting their conversation.

"Mr. 16th GA, how are you feeling?" the official asked.

"I'm fine," Kyren replied, though his mind was still racing.

The official nodded. "Let me know when you're ready, and I’ll guide you to your requested dorm."

"Yeah, let’s go,” Kyren replied, glancing at his friends. “But they’ll be coming with me."

The official nodded again, leading them down the halls and out of the clinic. As they walked, Kyren glanced down at the dagger in his hand, feeling a strange mixture of unease and purpose.

Finally, they arrived at the Sky Academy VIP dormitory. The official opened the door, revealing a space that was worlds apart from their previous dorm—ornate furnishings, soft lighting, and a view that stretched across the academy grounds.

"We’re here," the official announced, holding the door open as they stepped inside, each one marveling at the luxuries that awaited them.

Kyren paused at the threshold, a sense of foreboding lingering as he looked at his friends, and then at the mysterious dagger that seemed to pulse faintly in his hand, as if whispering secrets only he could hear.