Following the morning lecture, the group headed to the cafeteria for lunch. Their teachers had announced that, due to the tournant, afternoon classes would be cancelled.
The tournant, they had explained, served a dual purpose: to assess the skills and potential of new students just three days after completing the passage rites, and to establish a ranking among the newcors, despite the existing hierarchical structure of the factions.
While this evaluation process might be beneficial for the other factions, it seed less relevant for the Architect Faction, who had already overco significant obstacles to secure their place at the Academy.
Despite this, the group was determined to participate in the tournant and prove themselves.
Perhaps, they thought, it would earn them so respect from the other factions, who were once again staring at them with disdain as they entered the cafeteria.
But unlike the last ti, where the group stared around nervously, they strode in with confidence, chatting amongst themselves as they made their way towards getting their food.
And unlike before, when they were seated separately, all of them settled on one table to eat. Including Ambrose and Erick this ti around.
Octavius, on the other hand, let Void be in control of his body as he surveyed the room, trying to look for the individuals that had approached them yesterday. But he didn't see them. Instead, he noticed so familiar faces, but that wasn't who he was looking for.
He returned to the table just in ti to catch Erick standing up and telling one of the students seated next to him to take his plate to the dispenser.
"No, I have mine to carry," the student replied swiftly, as Erick began to stand up. Erick's expression darkened, and he leaned in nacingly. "What did you say?"
Otto intervened, speaking up on the student's behalf. He said, "Get your own plate. Don't tell your talent cost you the inability to hear properly." A few students around the table chuckled at Otto's remark, leaving Erick's face flushed with embarrassnt.
Erick's anger was discernible as he aggressively grabbed his own plate and stord off towards the counter, slamming it into the dispenser and walking out of the cafeteria.
Octavius tapped Void's shoulder urgently, his eyes fixed intently on Erick's retreating figure. "Hey, get up. Now's our chance," he whispered, already moving swiftly to follow Erick.
Void groaned, his spoon hovering just inches from his mouth. He had been looking forward to his al all day.
Reluctantly, he dropped the spoon, and it clattered against the plate as he pushed back his chair. [What's going on?] he asked, but Octavius was already disappearing into the crowd.
Void hastily followed, his long strides eating up the distance as he caught up to Octavius. As they erged from the cafeteria, Void asked, [Well? Where did he go?] He scanned the corridor, his eyes searching for any sign of Erick.
Octavius pointed down two different corridors, his hand gesturing emphatically. "Either he's heading back to our dorm this way, or he's eting up with his friends who orchestrated my...demise,"
The mory of their betrayal still lingered, and it fueled his need to make haste and catch up with them.
Without waiting for Void's response, Octavius took off down the second corridor, his feet moving swiftly and silently.
Void groaned again, shaking his head in exasperation as he followed Octavius. [You know, I don't think he went this way," he began to say. "You saw how they treated him earlier; it's pretty obvious they've discarded him. So, he's no longer relevant to you at this point—]
But before Void could finish, he was suddenly shoved against the wall, his head spinning with pain. Octavius stopped dead in his tracks, seemingly feeling the pain too, since they shared a body. He turned to Void, concern etched on his face, and saw the two boys from the previous day looming over them.
One of the boys pointed accusingly at his arm, where the ink from Void's earlier defense chanism still lingered. "You see what you did to my arm?" he snarled, his eyes blazing with anger.
With his free hand, he pinned Void to the wall by the throat, his grip tightening ominously. "The ink is still there, and it's refusing to co off."
[Because I gave you an autograph, ] he whispered amidst the chokehold. [And autographs are ant to be long-lasting, aren't they?]
The boy's face twisted with rage, and he slamd Void against the wall again. "I am not your fan!" he snarled.
Void leaned in, his lips brushing against the boy's ear. [Then explain this need of yours to be in close contact with since you saw , ] he whispered with a low and husky tone. [Surely you must find ... alluring... or perhaps...] He paused, his breath caressing the boy's ear. [Captivating.]
The boy's face turned beet red with fury, and he mounted his fist, throwing a series of punches at Void's face. Blood oozed out of Void's nose as the boy's blows landed with sickening crunches.
"When... I'm... done... with... you," the boy gritted out, punching Void after every word, "you're going to regret ever ssing with —"
Just as Octavius was about to reassert control over their shared body and take down the attackers, he hesitated.
The individual had stopped punching Void and grabbed his hair, forcing him to et his gaze. But instead of the expected fear or submission, Void was grinning.
The individual's eyes widened in surprise, clearly not anticipating that reaction. He had expected Void to beg for rcy, not smile defiantly. As he prepared to unleash another flurry of attacks, Void seized his wrist, twisting it upward with a swift, precise motion. The individual's wrist dislocated with a sickening crunch, and a loud cry of pain ripped from his lips.
Void didn't relent. With a series of swift, frugal movents, he targeted the individual's joints, dislocating his elbow, shoulder, and knee without spilling a drop of blood. The individual's screams grew louder and more frantic as Void expertly manipulated his limbs, leaving him a twisted, writhing mass of pain.
While all that went on, the individual's companion fled to summon a higher authority. But in his absence, Void turned his attention back to the first individual, and with a series of precise, almost surgical movents, began to reverse the damage he had inflicted. However, instead of bringing relief, Void's actions only seed to put the individual in even more agony, his screams growing louder and more anguished as Void continued to manipulate his joints.
Just then, Octavius warned Void, "They're coming, we should run." But Void ignored the warning. Instead, he allowed the individual to stand up, giving him an opportunity to attempt another punch. However, the individual's weakness was evident, and his blow was barely more than a tap.
Void imdiately crouched on the ground, feigning hurt and vulnerability. The individual, still fueled by anger and a desire for revenge, squatted beside Void, preparing to inflict more pain. But before he could act, a stern voice bood from behind.
"What's going on here?" a teacher demanded, striding towards the scene.
Void sniffled and whimpered, playing the part of the victim to perfection. "I-I was ambushed by him," he stamred, pointing accusingly at the individual.
The teacher's gaze flicked between Void, who was covered in blood, and the individual, who appeared relatively unscathed. Her expression turned stern, and she beckoned for him to follow her. "Co with ,"
When the individual attempted to explain his side of the story, hoping to make the teacher understand that Void had been the primary aggressor, he only succeeded in infuriating her further.
She threatened to deduct points from his record if he didn't move along, and the individual reluctantly complied, walking ahead of her with a scowl on his face.
The teacher turned to Void and offered a hasty apology before escorting the two individuals away.
As they departed, Octavius couldn't help but marvel at Void's cunning tactics. It was a clever manipulation, one that Octavius realized was reminiscent of bullies' attributes.
Void, on the other hand, celebrated his victory with a flourish, executing a perfect Michael Jackson-esque twirl. He pointed his index fingers and thumbs at Octavius, grinning mischievously. [Reverse psychology, baby!] he exclaid.
[How did I overco that you ask?]
Octavius, already walking ahead, shot back over his shoulder, "I didn't ask."
Void chuckled, undeterred. [Well, I'll tell you anyway, ] he began, launching into a colorful explanation of how he had used reverse psychology to manipulate the situation and erge victorious due to his insatiable desire to mate with bad bitches.
Octavius groaned, shaking his head in exasperation as they made their way to the tournant venue.
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