Vahn stood before a grand door at the top floor of the academy dormitory—the floor strictly reserved for special students. That fact alone baffled him, for he had learned it was nearly impossible to secure a room up here without significant power or influence. Yet Dante, an eccentric and reclusive genius, had one. And now Vahn was about to see why.
As the door slid open with a soft hiss, Vahn stepped into a room that defied expectation. It was enormous—at least three times the size of the modest room he shared with four others. And Dante had it all to himself.
But space wasn't what left him speechless.
Scattered across the room were machines of various shapes and functions. Sleek devices buzzed quietly from recessed spots in the wall, and strange contraptions hung from the ceiling like metallic vines. In each corner of the room were glowing terminals or reactors humming with energy.
Even the bed had tools, circuits, and strange crystals scattered across its surface. It looked less like a place for sleep and more like a high-tech laboratory fused with a mad scientist's den.
In the middle of the chaos stood a single organized space: a desk with a sleek, translucent keyboard and a suspended screen. It was here Dante moved, his fingers already dancing across keys.
"Now," he began, voice calm but firm, "as you've probably imagined by now, the alliance is steadily losing its grip on the world."
With a final keystroke, the screen flickered to life, displaying a map covered with ominous red markers.
"Something significant happened at the alliance's headquarters. Their defenses were crippled overnight. And though they haven't admitted it publicly, I have a theory."
He paused, casting a sideways glance at Vahn—one that said more than words ever could. Vahn instinctively knew what Dante was implying: his sister. She had attacked the alliance headquarters, tearing through its protective ranks in her desperate search for him.
"She tore through them looking for you, didn't she?" Dante asked quietly, not expecting an answer.
Vahn didn't respond. He didn't need to. The pieces were falling into place.
Dante turned back to the screen. "And with that breach, a ripple effect began. It encouraged hidden groups—dangerous factions that had lain dormant—to come out into the open."
Vahn leaned forward. "What groups?"
The screen shifted, revealing a sinister symbol: a black star surrounded by jagged red lines.
"The Obsidian Cult," Dante announced grimly.
Vahn repeated the name aloud, tasting the weight of it. "Obsidian Cult..."
"They're a militaristic organization with a hierarchical structure. Their leader is known only as The Emperor. He's a confirmed Supreme-level ability user."
Vahn blinked. "A Supreme? That's—"
"—unprecedented," Dante finished. "The Emperor that commands an army organized with titles eerily similar to those of the alliance's own palace system: Kings, Grand Dukes, Dukes, Marquises, Counts, and so on."
"They're copying the alliance's hierarchy?" Vahn asked, incredulous.
"Exactly. It's intentional. Their goal is to confuse the public and eventually replace the alliance with their own empire. They force other smaller factions to kneel before them either through fear or manipulation."
The map on the screen pulsed and changed again.
"The next group is called the Beast League."
Images of savage figures flashed across the screen, men and women with glowing beast eyes, claws, and hybrid limbs. Some had wings. Others had tails.
"They're a faction built around one idea: giving power to the powerless. They fuse their members with parts or blood of the marked beasts."
Vahn frowned, intrigued. "They're trying to create hope... for non-ability users?"
"Exactly," Dante nodded. "Even if they're evil, their method is seductive. Think about how many people live powerless, hoping for a chance to stand beside the gifted. The Beast League offers them that chance, no matter the cost."
The screen shifted again.
"Then there are the Knights of the Scarlet Moon."
This time, a crimson moon glowed in the center of the display. Around it were silhouettes of armored knights, each one wreathed in blood-red energy.
"Their leader, Scarlet Moon, is rumored to manifest a glowing red moon behind her whenever she enters battle. She grants her followers 'Moon Blessings, ' which act as a secondary ability."
"Two abilities?" Vahn whispered.
"Yes. It's a frightening advantage. Her knights are few, but their power density is extremely high."
The screen shimmered once more.
"Next, we have the most disturbing group so far: simply known as The Black."
A shiver ran down Vahn's spine as the display filled with unsettling anatomy-like diagrams.
"They model themselves after a human body. The head of the organization is literally called The Head. He has four direct subordinates: Eyes, Ears, Left Hand, and Right Hand. Then come his disciples—named after fingers—and beneath them, their personal agents, called toes."
"Creepy…" Vahn murmured, eyebrows raised.
"It gets worse," Dante said. "There are also factions called Skin, Bones, and even Lungs. Every part of the organization represents a part of the human anatomy."
Vahn shook his head, half amused, half horrified. "That's... too creative."
Dante actually chuckled. "I know, right?"
The last group appeared on the screen.
"Finally, the Blackwater Raiders. They are pirates, thieves, smugglers, basically every form of organized crime, unified under one banner."
Vahn sighed. "Of course, pirates would get involved."
"But it doesn't stop there," Dante continued, tone darkening.
"The emergence of these factions has destabilized the balance. Even the hidden clans, long neutral, are beginning to come out. The alliance's influence is crumbling. The fact that nothing has been done yet proves that the alliance's hands are tied. These groups don't just want to compete with the alliance, they want to destroy it completely."
Vahn remained quiet for a while, his thoughts heavy. He understood. The alliance had long outlived its relevance.
The demon threat that once justified its existence was gone—or rather, it had been replaced by something else. New chaos. New threats. New powers rising from the ashes of peace.
And yet, classes still continued. Life went on for now, even as the world around them shifted.
"Haa," Vahn exhaled. "Anyway, the real reason I came here… was to ask if I could use your teleporter."
Dante paused. "Mind telling me why?"
Vahn hesitated, then spoke truthfully. "There's someone I care about. I need to make sure he isn't swept away in all this chaos."
"Marco?"
The mention of the name made Vahn freeze.
"What? How do you know—?"
"Remember what I told you," Dante said with a smirk. "We've been watching you."
'Damn bastard...' Vahn cursed inwardly, struggling to keep his composure.
Dante casually typed into his keyboard, and a camera feed popped up, showing Marco seated at a sleek conference table, speaking with a group of older individuals.
"He's fine for now," Dante reassured. "Looks like he's in a meeting with the organizers."
Vahn sighed, feeling a brief wave of relief. But it didn't last long.
'He needs protection. If he stays unaffiliated, he'll be crushed.'
He had previously told Marco to form his own group, but the rising storm made that nearly impossible. He needed to find a powerful faction to take Marco in, one that could shield him from the chaos ahead.
'No choice. I have to get stronger. Fast.'
Within the span of one conversation, Vahn had found not one but two burning reasons to become stronger. He had no time to waste.
After a few more minutes of quiet conversation, Vahn left Dante's strange room, the door hissing shut behind him.
That evening, he met with Jarred. Their conversation drifted to the mysteries of space manipulation, but Vahn hadn't yet begun practicing.
But he would.
Soon.
The world was changing, and he needed to be ready.