After the visit from the emissaries, Zakarius knew he had to act quickly. He couldn't allow anyone else to notice the changes in his behavior, especially those who knew him well. He needed to strengthen his control over the minds of his followers and use his position as an intermediary to advance his rebellion plan.

"If I play my cards right," Zakarius thought, "not only will I control the academy, but also the resources of the Republics. With their technology and my power, I can unleash chaos that even the celestials could not foresee."

But first, he had to keep infiltrating the most advanced minds. He couldn't limit himself to recruits; he needed to reach the leaders, those with the power to change the course of the war.

Thus, each night, while Elior slept, Zakarius projected his consciousness farther, seeking his next targets. He knew time was pressing, but if he acted with patience and precision, he could ignite a rebellion from the shadows that would sweep everything away.

Dawn brought a chilling atmosphere, as if the sky itself sensed what was coming. Zakarius, still deep in his intrigues and manipulations, hadn't anticipated how soon the calm would shatter.

The academy, normally a bastion of security, was assaulted in the dead of night by an army of necromancers that loomed like a massive shadow on the horizon.

Chaos erupted instantly. Alarms blared throughout the compound, angels and seraphim took defensive positions, and cherubs were hastily escorted to protected zones. The academy's magical barrier, designed to protect its students and warriors, crumbled within minutes under the dark assault. The celestial soldiers, caught off guard, barely managed to organize a defense before the necromantic hordes stormed the halls.

Zakarius, in Elior's body, watched from a high tower. The reality of the situation struck him like a cold wave. The front line was far more compromised than he had anticipated. The celestial armies were quickly losing ground, and the academy, supposedly an impenetrable fortress, had fallen in a single night.

For a brief moment, Zakarius thought about revealing himself. Perhaps the necromancers, if they discovered who he really was, would welcome him with open arms. After all, he had used his dark power to escape death and had planned his revenge from within the celestial ranks. But as he approached the invading forces, something happened.

"A cherub!" shouted one of the dark warriors, pointing at him. "Kill him!"

The necromantic soldiers attacked mercilessly, without giving him a chance to speak. Zakarius, in Elior's body, was forced to retreat. To them, he was just another cherub, a symbol of celestial purity that had to be destroyed.

"Damn them all," he thought angrily as he dodged the attacks. "If I can't join the necromancers or the celestials, I'll rely on my own power."

Zakarius knew that his army—the young celestials whose minds he had corrupted—awaited his signal. If there was a moment to unleash his rebellion, this was it. Seizing the chaos of battle, he projected his consciousness into each of his servants, awakening the control he had implanted in them over time.

"Rise!" he ordered them in their dreams. "Fight for me. Fight to the death."

The young celestials, already disturbed by the invasion, felt Zakarius's call in their minds. Something dark consumed them, a black fire that drove them to betray their own comrades. Amid the confusion of the battle, they began attacking their celestial peers. Some fought with fury, while others gave in to the frenzy, destroying everything in their path.

The chaos that had already erupted in the academy intensified. No one could understand why some of the younger recruits were turning on their own comrades. The academy, already being ravaged by the necromancer army, now began to collapse from within.

Taking advantage of the moment, Zakarius decided he could no longer stay there. He had used his followers enough; now it was time to escape.

He knew that the emissaries of his "father," the cherubs Adriel and Thesan, were still at the academy. And although they had been sent to supervise him, they were also his best chance of leaving alive. Zakarius ran through the shattered halls of the academy, avoiding both celestial forces and necromancer invaders, until he reached the area where the cherubs were sheltered.

Upon finding Adriel and Thesan, who were organizing the evacuation of the cherubs, Zakarius adopted a panicked expression, pretending to be young Elior in the midst of crisis.

"Adriel!" he cried, feigning desperation. "We have to leave now! The academy is lost."

Adriel and Thesan looked at him in surprise, but their concern for Elior outweighed their doubts.

"Elior, we are waiting for instructions from celestial command," said Thesan, though there was uncertainty in his voice. "We can't leave the academy without a direct order."

Zakarius, in Elior's body, couldn't allow any delays. He knew time was running out and that he had to leave before the situation worsened. Then, he resorted to his most powerful threat.

"Instructions?" he said, hardening his tone. "Do you know who my father is? If you don't get me out of here right now, Auron will make sure none of you ever set foot in the Republics again!"

Adriel and Thesan exchanged nervous glances. They couldn't afford to anger Auron, one of the most powerful oligarchs of the Republics. Although Elior seemed to be acting strangely, his threat could not be ignored.

"Very well, Elior," Adriel sighed. "We'll get you out of here. But we must be quick."

The three cherubs began moving quickly toward a safe evacuation point. As they did, Zakarius observed the chaos around him with a mixture of satisfaction and disdain. He had sown destruction on both sides, and now he was withdrawing as the academy crumbled.

As Zakarius was evacuated from the academy with the other cherubs, his mind worked silently, calculating his next steps. He had lost control of the academy, but he still had something valuable: access to the Celestial Oligarchic Republics and his position as Auron's son.

If he couldn't destroy the celestials from within, perhaps he could do it from without, using the Republics' resources and technology for his own gain.

"This battle is far from over," Zakarius thought as the transport carried him away from the burning battlefield. "If I can't be part of the necromancer or celestial armies, I'll forge my own destiny. And none of them will be safe."

But even though Zakarius had managed to escape, he couldn't shake a trace of doubt. What would happen if his true identity were revealed in the Republics? And what would happen when his father's emissaries began to ask deeper questions about his behavior?

Shadows loomed over him, but Zakarius knew that as long as he had the will to survive, he would always find a way forward. The rebellion he had begun in the academy was only the beginning of something far greater.

The sky over the Celestial Oligarchic Republics was covered with silver clouds, crisscrossed by majestic airships floating, powered by a blend of technology and ancient magic. As the evacuation ship descended, Zakarius, in Elior's body, watched with awe and caution. Giant airships moved fluidly between the crystal and steel towers adorning the capital city. In the streets, magic-powered machines transported goods and people, and blue lights of magical energy shone everywhere.

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The arrival in the Republics couldn't have been more different from the chaos of the academy. Here, everything was perfectly calculated, advanced, and in harmony between magic and science. Zakarius, a former warrior angel, had never seen a city like this. Though the Republics were known to be small and resource-poor, their scientific progress and societal efficiency had elevated them to an almost legendary status.

At the port, Elior's father, the great oligarch Auron, waited anxiously. When the ship landed, Auron ran toward Zakarius (believing he was his son) with open arms, his face showing a mix of worry and relief.

"Elior, my son!" he exclaimed with genuine emotion, hugging him tightly. "I thought I had lost you… Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Zakarius, still uncomfortable in this new body and role, tried to mimic Elior's emotions, but the warmth with which the real Elior would have responded simply didn't come from him. Auron let him go for a moment, stepping back to look him in the eyes, and his expression darkened slightly.

"You seem… different, son. Colder. What happened?"

Zakarius forced a smile, though his mind was already occupied with how to hide his true intentions.

"It was… a difficult experience, Father," he said, trying to use a comforting voice, though with a slight stiffness. "The academy was destroyed, and we barely escaped with our lives. It has changed me… I suppose."

Auron watched him for a moment, evaluating him with concern, but finally sighed and hugged him again.

"The important thing is that you're here," he said softly. "Take the time you need to recover."

The following days were a mix of wonder and confusion for Zakarius. As he walked through the streets of the Republic's capital, he observed the incredible inventions the oligarchs and their scientists had achieved. Airships, machines with mechanical arms, magical devices powering the city. Everything in the Republics was a fusion of magic and technology.

But while life in the Republics seemed perfect, Zakarius struggled with his new role. The real Elior had been a prodigious young man, a cherub who, beyond his political heritage, stood out for his brilliant intellect. But Zakarius, having taken over his body, found an unexpected obstacle: Elior had erased all his academic memories, leaving Zakarius without the technical knowledge he was expected to have.

The first meetings and presentations at the technological academy were disastrous. Elior's tutors and professors were accustomed to his quick learning and natural genius. But now, Zakarius was unable to follow the complex scientific discussions they held. During a class on magical crystal energy, Zakarius barely understood what was being said, and questions directed at him left him blank.

"Elior, do you have any comments on the recent research?" one of the professors asked, eagerly anticipating the brilliant insights the young man always provided.

Zakarius tried to deflect the question, responding vaguely.

"Oh, I think… we should look deeper into the balance of energy flows…" he said, hoping it would suffice.

The faces around him showed some confusion. Elior had always been clear and precise, always with innovative ideas, but now he seemed lost and distant.

Zakarius realized he had to move quickly to avoid his cover collapsing. He couldn't let others notice he wasn't the real Elior, let alone suspect. So, instead of trying to recover what Elior knew, he decided to start adapting to his environment using his own skills.

He began studying in private, devouring texts and manuals he found in the Republics' academy. Although the science and magic of this place were complex and advanced, Zakarius had centuries of experience in arcane energy manipulation, giving him an advantage. Over time, he was at least able to pretend he knew what he was talking about, though he was still far from the level of the real Elior.

Additionally, he began using his ability to project his consciousness into the minds of those around him. He spied on their dreams and thoughts, learning what he should say and how he should behave. Thus, little by little, he erased the perception that Elior had become colder or more distant, replacing it with a more controlled and calculating image.

Auron, although still worried about the changes in his son, seemed to accept the idea that the academy trauma had changed him. The love of a father for his son often blinds one to reality. And although Zakarius felt nothing for Auron, he knew this was his ticket to power and survival.

As Zakarius adapted to his new life, he also began making long-term plans. The Republics, although neutral in the conflict with the necromancers, were powerful due to their technological advancements and mercantile economy. If he could leverage their resources and connections, he could rebuild his power from within and plan his revenge more effectively.

However, there was a problem. In his act of erasing his memories, Elior had left Zakarius incomplete. Every time he tried to recall fragments of his past, Elior's mind interfered. And though he had control of his body, it was as if there were always a shadow of the real Elior, blocking access to certain knowledge and abilities.

Zakarius had to be careful. He couldn't allow this weakness to be revealed, not while he was surrounded by people who believed him to be a genius and a prodigy.

For now, he would maintain his cover and continue adapting to his new life. The Republics offered a temporary refuge, but Zakarius knew he couldn't stay in the shadows forever. Eventually, the time would come to act and reclaim the power that was his by right.

As the days passed, the shadow of war continued looming. The Republics were considering a closer alliance with the Celestials, offering technology and resources to fight the necromancers. Zakarius knew he needed to be at the forefront of these negotiations, not only to influence the outcomes but to protect his own position.

The internal rebellion that had begun at the academy was not over. And though he now found himself in a completely different setting, his desire for destruction and dominance had not waned. It was only a matter of time before the Republics also fell under his control, or became pieces of his strategy to destroy the Celestials from the shadows.

Auron sat in his office, a spacious room decorated with the emblems of the Celestial Oligarchic Republics. The windows displayed the city beneath the gray clouds and the constant hum of airships coming and going, but his mind was elsewhere. He held a small crystal figurine in his hands, one of many Elior had created when he was younger. Auron turned it between his fingers, remembering the days when his son used to run around the house, always smiling and full of energy, always creating, always with a spark of ingenuity in his eyes.

"Where is my son?" Auron thought, over and over.

Since Elior had returned from the academy, something in him had changed. It wasn't just his behavior, colder and more distant; it was as if his very spirit had disappeared. The Elior he had known, the bright and curious young man, seemed to have vanished, leaving in his place a stranger.

A cherub who, despite his young appearance, spoke as if he had lived a thousand years and carried a burden no child should bear.

Auron had tried everything. He had made every effort to get close to his son, to understand what had happened at the academy. He had attempted to talk to him several times, hoping he would open up, that he would tell him what was really going on in his mind.

"Elior," he had said one afternoon, in a conversation he hoped would be revealing, "I know what you experienced was terrible. But you don't have to face it alone. I'm here for you."

Elior, or rather Zakarius in Elior's body, looked at him with those cold, calculating eyes that so unsettled Auron. There was a chill in his gaze that he had never seen before.

"Father, I'm fine," he replied in an emotionless voice. "I'm just… changing. I'm not a child, not anymore."

"But you are," Auron thought every time his son repeated those words. Elior was still a cherub, and while it was true that cherubs changed and evolved slowly over their long and carefree lives, Elior's changes were too abrupt. It wasn't normal for a cherub his age, who had always been so lively and full of joy, to suddenly become so… distant, so adult.

Auron constantly blamed himself for having sent Elior as an emissary to another country. He had thought it would be a good experience for his son, a way to prepare him for the future. But now, seeing what Elior had become, he couldn't help but regret that decision. Perhaps he had forced him to grow up too fast, to face a reality no cherub should know so young.

Elior's innocence, his spark, seemed to have faded.

Auron loved him, of course, as any father would love his son, but now he found himself struggling to keep that love alive in the face of the distance he felt between them. Elior no longer sought his advice or asked for his help as he once had. He was always talking about being more independent, about not needing so much support. And while Auron understood that cherubs eventually became more autonomous over the centuries, this change had been sudden, as if from one day to the next Elior had stopped being a child.

"I'm no longer a child," Elior would tell him, almost always with that same coldness.

Auron didn't know how to respond to him.

He tried to remind himself that cherubs were whimsical by nature, sometimes extravagant and unpredictable. Maybe it was just a phase. Perhaps Elior was simply processing the trauma of what had happened at the academy. But deep down, Auron couldn't shake the feeling that something much darker and deeper was happening. His son was not the same. There was a darkness in him that hadn't been there before, something Auron couldn't understand.

Sitting in his study, holding the crystal figurine in his hand, Auron wished he could turn back time, prevent Elior from having to face all of this so soon. He longed to see the genuine smile on his son's face again or to hear one of his brilliant ideas about the fusion of magic and technology. But every time he tried to connect with him, it seemed that Elior drifted further away.

It was as if the real Elior had vanished, and that filled Auron with an indescribable sadness.

He looked at the figurine once more before placing it back on his desk. He knew he had to keep trying. He had to find a way to get his son back, somehow. Perhaps, with time, Elior would find his way back. But until then, Auron found himself caught between love and bewilderment, between the duty of being a strong father and the pain of not recognizing the person before him.