Lilith’s eyes sweep the room, her gaze lingering on Selene before a grin tugs at her lips. “How are you two holding up after your rather… vicious little encounter?”

Xavier shrugs, though unease eats at him. "I’ve had better days."

Selene, on the other hand, seems frozen, her eyes glued to the floor. She hasn’t said a word since Lilith entered, and now it looks like she’s trying to disappear into the walls.

“Good,” Lilith says, her voice dripping with amusement. “Because things are about to get far more interesting.” Her gaze locks onto Xavier, sharp as usual. “You’ll be enrolling in the academy today. Time to meet the rest of our lovely students.”

Xavier blinks. “Today? Already?”

Lilith’s smile widens. “Oh yes, no time to waste. You’ve already missed a week of lessons.”

Something in her tone makes Xavier shift uncomfortably. He glances at Selene, but she’s still doing everything she can to avoid looking at Lilith.

“And speaking of not wasting time…” Lilith’s voice turns cold, her amusement fading. “You two, like it or not, owe me.”

Xavier frowns, confusion spreading across his face. “What do you mean by that?”

Lilith turns her attention to Selene. “Why don’t you enlighten him, Selene? Tell him what happens to vampires turned without permission.”

Selene hesitates, her voice barely audible. “They’re killed.”

Lilith’s grin widens as she leans closer. “Not just killed, love. No. They’re hunted down, starved, torn apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left to even remember them by. A bloodline erased from existence. Forgotten in a very permanent way.”

Xavier feels a chill creep down his spine. “And you’re saying I'm... in your debt?”

Lilith’s smile returns, slow and deliberate. “Precisely. I’ve kept certain… people from noticing you, Xavier. People who aren’t as 'accepting' as I am.”

The room falls into a thick, oppressive silence.

Lilith shifts her gaze to Selene, her smile turning sweet, almost mockingly tender. “And you, darling, still owe me for that little favor all those years ago.”

Selene's right hand clenches tightly into her fist, while the other trembles in fear, but she nods silently. She doesn’t dare meet Lilith’s eyes directly.

With a satisfied hum, Lilith turns back to Xavier. “Now, about your little team—Selene, you, and my dear Jackie are going to be working together. I’ll be assigning missions. Espionage, reconnaissance, you name it. And you’ll do as told.”

Xavier opens his mouth to protest, but Lilith raises a finger, silencing him.

“You don’t get a say in this. You belong to me now, just like Selene,” she says, her voice as smooth as velvet. “So, best get comfortable.”

Lilith straightens, smoothing her crimson gown as she prepares to leave. “Oh, and one more thing,” she adds with a smirk. “You might want to hurry along. Your Vampiric Combat instructor is… less than forgiving when it comes to tardiness.” She glances at the clock on the wall, then back at them. “I’d hate for you to make a terrible first impression.”

With that, she disspates into the shadows, her presence still lingering even after she vanished.

Xavier exhales, tension flooding out of him as he watches Lilith disappear. He glances at Selene, but she’s still staring at the floor. “Guess we should… get going?” he offers awkwardly.

Selene nods, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. After a brief hesitation, she reaches out and gently grabs Xavier’s hand, her touch tentative. “We… we should meet up with Jackson later,” she says softly, almost shyly. “But we need to go now if we don’t want to be late.”

Xavier blinks at the unexpected contact, but her urgency quickly snaps him back to the situation. “Right. Let’s not keep whoever this "Vampire Combat instructor" is waiting,” he mutters, already dreading what that class might entail.

They hurry out of the medical bay, the pressure of time weighing heavily on them as they race through the corridors. The Infinebula building is farther than Xavier remembered, and the minutes tick away faster than they can run.

As they round a corner, Xavier steals a glance at Selene, her breath coming in short bursts, her face flushed from the effort. “Think we’re gonna make it?” he asks between breaths.

Selene shakes her head, a slight look of panic flashing in her eyes. “I… I don’t know, but we have to try!”

The looming silhouette of the Infinebula building finally comes into view, but the clock is merciless, each second pushing them closer to the brink of being late. They sprint across the courtyard, heads pounding, feet barely touching the ground.

“Almost there!” Xavier shouts, urging them forward.

They burst through the entrance, the doors slamming open as they storm inside, panting and out of breath. The vast sports hall sprawls ahead of them, and they barely skid to a halt just inside the doorway, seconds to spare.

An eerie silence fills the hall, and the other students are already standing in neat lines, all eyes now fixed on the pair who just barreled in.

“Well, well…” A low, gravelly voice breaks the tense silence in the sports hall. The instructor stands at the front, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes cold and calculating as they bore into Xavier and Selene. He’s an imposing figure, towering over everyone else in the room, his muscles straining against the fabric of his uniform. “You two must be the new arrivals.”

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Xavier glances at Selene, her face pale as they both struggle to catch their breath. They barely made it in time, and the instructor’s glare only makes things worse. His gaze flickers between them, sizing them up, his frown deepening.

“Barely made it,” he growls, his voice thick with disdain. “This isn’t a charity. Show up on time, or don’t bother showing up at all.”

Xavier swallows hard and nods quickly, while Selene stands frozen beside him, her hand trembling slightly at her side.

The rest of the class watches them, silent and judging, as Xavier and Selene make their way to the back. The room is a mix of figures, some familiar, others completely foreign.

“Names,” he barks.

“Xavier Styx,” Xavier answers, his voice steady but tense.

“Selene Vael,” she says, much quieter.

The instructor’s eyes narrow for a second before he jerks his head toward two separate groups. “Get in your family’s line.”

As Xavier and Selene move into their family’s line, the weight of everyone’s eyes still lingers, pressing down on him. When Xavier spots Jackson nearby, relief washes over him. At least one familiar face in this sea of unknowns.

Jackson gives him a small nod of acknowledgment, though his usual smirk is missing. Xavier scans the rest of the line, his gaze falling on the others.

A dark-skinned man covered in tattoos stands beside Jackson, his body language relaxed but his eyes sharp, observing everyone closely. Despite his intimidating appearance, there’s something kind in the way he watches the group.

Next to him, an Asian girl is decked out in a cyberpunk-esque outfit, her arms adorned with various glowing gadgets and devices that pulse faintly. Her eyes flicker up and down Xavier with open disdain.

And finally, a younger boy, pale and no older than fifteen, stands off to the side. There’s something strange about him, something Xavier can’t quite place. His gaze, however, is fixed intently on someone else—Melanie, standing over in the Glaciaserpens row.

Steeling himself, Xavier steps forward to introduce himself, extending his hand. “Hey, I’m Xavier. Nice to meet you.”

The tattooed man is the first to respond, reaching out and gripping Xavier’s hand. The moment they shake, pain shoots up Xavier’s arm as the man’s massive hand tightens like a vice.

“The name's Cain, pleasure.” the tattooed man grunts, his grip incredibly strong. Xavier tries to hide the wince creeping across his face.

“Good to… meet you,” Xavier forces out, pulling his hand back once Cain finally releases it.

He turns to the cyberpunk girl next. She barely glances at his outstretched hand before wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“I’m not touching the hand you jerk off with,” she says, her voice dripping with mockery. She crosses her arms, her neon-lit devices humming softly. “Name’s Mia, by the way.”

Xavier’s hand drops awkwardly to his side, his face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “Right… good to meet you too, Mia.”

He moves on to the pale kid, who doesn’t even look his way. Instead, the boy’s eyes are still locked on Melanie across the room. After a long, uncomfortable pause, the boy finally acknowledges him.

“I’m Elijah,” he says, his voice distant, distracted. “Not really interested in handshakes.”

Xavier nods, feeling like the introductions went about as well as he could’ve expected. Before he can say anything else, the instructor’s booming voice cuts through the air again.

“Enough chit-chat. You’ll be sparring today.” His cold gaze sweeps across the room. “I’ll be judging your use of vampire skills and nothing else. This isn’t about your brute strength or your strategy. It’s about control, precision, and power. Fail to impress me, and you’ll wish you hadn’t shown up at all.”

The instructor stands at the front of the room, arms crossed, his piercing gaze scanning the students like a hawk surveying its prey. After a long, tense silence, he speaks, his voice booming through the hall.

"Step forward," he orders, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "Each of you will draw lots. These will decide your sparring partners for today."

The instructor's eyes sweep over the gathered students, his gaze as cold and unyielding as stone. His presence alone silences any whispers, and his towering frame casts an ominous shadow over the hall.

"First years, step forward," he barks, his voice carrying an air of finality. "Draw your tickets."

Xavier feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck as he approaches the table. His hand trembles slightly as he draws a slip of paper, his stomach churning with nerves. He unfolds the ticket and reads the name:

Lucian - Year 2, Vitaeldur.

The name is unfamiliar, but that hardly matters. The looming confrontation feels heavy, as though the very air has thickened around him.

A voice suddenly cuts through the silence, brimming with frustration. "This isn’t fair—matching juniors against seniors—"

The instructor whips around, his face darkening like a storm cloud. His voice cracks like a whip. "Fair?" he snarls, eyes blazing. "You think the field is fair? You think the enemies you’ll face give a damn about your experience or what’s ‘fair’? You’re delusional if you think this is about fairness. This is survival. This test will show me if you can claw your way through when everything’s stacked against you. If you can’t—then you’re just dead weight."

The reprimanded vampire falls silent, and a heavy, oppressive quiet settles over the room. No one dares to argue further.

Xavier clutches his ticket tightly, forcing himself to breathe evenly. He takes his place among the other students, the tension in the room palpable. Matches are being called, and he can hear the sounds of sparring already echoing from the arena.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the instructor striding purposefully toward him. The man's face is unreadable, but his eyes lock onto Xavier with intensity.

"Styx," the instructor begins, his voice a low growl. "Let me make something perfectly clear. If you even think about using Melanie’s technique, you're gone. I don’t care how well it’s worked for you before, or how smart you think it makes you. If you need your opponents to survive in order to win, you’re already dead. So you might as well roll over and let them finish you."

Xavier's throat tightens, but before he can even process a response, the instructor steps closer, his voice dropping to a deadly quiet tone. "Strength isn’t power. It’s your ability to keep going when everything in you is screaming to stop. Real strength, Styx, is fighting with your own hands, your own blood, your own will. You want to survive? Learn to trust your own strength, not someone else’s technique."

He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he leans in. "Your strength of mind will define who you are more than your abilities ever will. Remember that."

The instructor finishes delivering his intense speech and Xavier makes his way to the sparring ground where his opponent waits. The vampire, smaller in stature, with lean muscle, brown eyes, and short brown hair, stands on the other side of the square battleground. Despite the looming confrontation, there’s an air of casualness to him.

“Styx, huh?” Lucian grins. “Been hearing a lot about you.”

Xavier raises an eyebrow. “All good things, I hope.”

Lucian chuckles, shaking his head. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

They meet in the center, exchanging a firm handshake. Lucian’s grip, though smaller than Xavier’s, carries a subtle strength. His calm demeanor only adds to the tension in the air.

“Don’t hold back just because I’m not as big as you,” Lucian says, his grin widening. “Size doesn’t always matter.”

Xavier smirks. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Lucian steps back, rolling his shoulders. “Good. I’d hate to have to embarrass you in front of everyone.”

Xavier’s eyes narrow playfully. “Confident, aren’t you?”

Lucian shrugs, the ease never leaving his posture. “Just making sure we understand each other.” He flicks his fingers, pulling a small green pill out of thin air. “I don’t like easy fights.”

Xavier watches as Lucian swallows the pill, his brown eyes morphing into a deep, forest green. The transformation is unsettling but fascinating. Lucian rolls his neck, a faint crack signaling that he’s ready.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Styx.”

Xavier lowers his stance, muscles coiling with anticipation. “You’re gonna find out soon enough.”

Lucian smirks again. “Good. Just don’t cry when I knock you down.”

The signal to begin echoes across the hall.