It was another day of class again, and as always, students were awake early, bustling with routine preparations. The corridors echoed with the sound of footsteps, hurried chatter, and the occasional groans of exhaustion. Despite this, they pushed themselves forward, each headed to their respective classes with bags slung over shoulders and minds still sowhat hazy from the recent hunts and sudden events.
Kairos’ group, however, moved differently that morning.
They were slower than usual in getting ready, their steps weighed down by an unspoken tension. There was a noticeable silence between them—one that even the usually chatty Darnell dared not break. Kairos couldn’t ignore the strange stillness that had fallen over his group, and it didn’t take him long to identify the source.
Darnell.
He was quieter than usual, far more introspective than he had ever been. His eyes were shadowed with thought, lips barely parting to speak, and when he did, his words were clipped and distant—spoken only in necessary intervals. There was a heaviness about him, sothing deeper than simple fatigue. Kairos watched him from the corner of his eye, the concern growing quietly within his chest.
When they finally made it to class, the room was more crowded than it usually was.
All the first-year students were present, and it was clear they weren’t the only ones who had been affected by recent events. The air felt thick with sothing—uncertainty, perhaps. Or maybe it was simply exhaustion.
Due to the lack of seats, Kairos and his group were forced to split up. While Kairos managed to take a seat in the second row, his friends trailed to the back, each finding a separate place to sit.
Kairos ended up not too far from Rayla.
She, too, seed different. Her usually sharp presence felt dulled, her expression void and tired. She didn’t acknowledge him, nor did she speak a word. But it wasn’t just Rayla. As Kairos looked around the classroom, he realized the atmosphere was universally dim. Nearly everyone wore a face of fatigue, their shoulders drooping, their eyes hollow with ntal strain.
It was as if the entire academy’s first-year population had been collectively drained.
The hunt had taken a toll, certainly, but there was more to it. The return to academic life after such chaos was jarring, and to top it all off, the mysterious reappearance of Mike had left everyone confused. They had seen him die—or had they? That mont was still a blur.
Kairos, on the other hand, found his mind consud with different thoughts.
Who was the masked man? What was his true objective? Why had he tried to kill Mirel, of all people?
There were too many questions, each layered atop the other, weaving into a tangled ss of confusion in his mind. He hadn’t gotten the chance to find clarity. His thoughts were scattered, emotions caught between fear and determination. Right now, it felt like everything in his world was moving too fast, like he was running without knowing where the finish line was.
And then, the classroom door swung open.
It didn’t slam, nor did it creak. But sohow, the quiet weight of the presence that entered commanded attention.
Sergeant Henry walked into the room.
He wasn’t carrying any materials—no scrolls, no datasheets. Just his usual stern face, marked with discipline and an unshakable gaze that seed to read every soul in the room in a single glance.
"Hello, please keep silent class,"
His voice was calm but firm, and the chatter that had begun to rise died down instantly.
From the way his eyes scanned the room, it was clear he could see what Kairos had already noticed. The students were exhausted—ntally, physically, emotionally. He didn’t comnt on it directly, but his next words addressed it nonetheless.
"For the rest of today, none of the teachers will be active. There will be a break for you all today. This didn’t co as a ssage on your phones—not because it ca late, but because I wanted to personally talk and warn you of the reasons why things are like this."
There was a shift in the room. Every ear perked up. Every eye focused.
It was rare for Sergeant Henry to speak so personally, and even rarer for a day off to be given without warning. The anticipation was imdiate.
"In a few days, we will have a celebration. It’s not sothing very common—it has only occurred three tis since the founding of Titanfang."
He paused, letting the gravity of that statent sink in.
"It is the start of the Black Festival, a period that begins when the great military hero, General Zhendeya, saved Earth from a surprise invasion by the Nyxaris."
Gasps echoed across the classroom.
"This festival only occurs when she visits a specific military academy—and this ti, that academy is ours. For the first ti, you students will be permitted to roam not only the marketplace and school areas but also the entire military base and the central event center."
Excitent surged through the class.
"Wow, I heard of that woman, she’s a legend."
"That’s crazy, I can’t believe she’s coming here."
"Finally, a break from these brutal classes!"
Whispers turned into murmurs. Murmurs turned into chatter. The energy in the room surged with life again—until Sergeant Henry raised his foot and stamped it once on the ground.
The echo silenced everyone.
He cleared his throat and continued.
"So I will encourage you all to be on your best behavior. Do not cause trouble. Do not start fights. Many high-ranking military officials will be attending. And even the factions—yes, the major ones—may send representatives, or arrive themselves."
Another wave of awe swept through the class.
"But more importantly," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly, "there will be a competition."
A hushed silence fell again.
"A chance to showcase your skills, and perhaps earn the recognition of the military or even a powerful faction. For those of you seeking purpose, a contract, or advancent—this will be your ti."
The air thickened with anticipation.
So students sat straighter, eyes alight with ambition. Others smiled faintly, thinking only of the relaxation and opportunity to explore. But for many, it was a mixture of both.
This wasn’t just a celebration. It was a crossroads.
A chance to rise—or to fall behind.
"That’s all I have to say. So please, prepare—and follow my rules,"
With those final words, Sergeant Henry turned and exited the room, leaving behind a wave of energy, confusion, and budding determination.
The class was dismissed, but no one moved at first.
For a mont, they simply sat there, each person consud by thoughts of what was to co.
The Festival was approaching.
And it would change everything.
Author’s note
Forgive for the mistakes and if the Chapter ca late and it feels like incomplete. I am very sick, overly sick, and slept during lectures. Unable to type properly, please bare with and if you sympathize keep supporting and accept my plea.
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