"Ayame, care to explain what's going on?" Arashi asked, his voice calm and composed as he surveyed the scene before him.
The ornate council chamber, with its high vaulted ceiling and ancient stone walls, felt suddenly smaller with the tension hanging in the air.
Moonlight filtered through the stained glass windows, casting multicolored shadows across the polished marble floor.
Ayame moved gracefully toward Ilyana, who lay collapsed on the floor, her breathing shallow and uneven.
With careful hands, she lifted the unconscious girl and settled her into the high-backed chair where she had been seated earlier.
The chair's dark wood creaked under the weight, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room.
"She came to me asking to speak with you," Ayame explained, her eyebrows knitted with concern as she tucked a strand of her silver hair behind her ear.
"After I told her you weren't around, she insisted on waiting. We offered to treat her wounds, but she refused repeatedly, despite our urging." Her fingers hovered over the girl's blood-stained sleeve.
"Now that's strange," Kaito interjected, his hand nervously tapping against the hilt of his blade.
"Why would anyone refuse treatment in her condition?" His eyes narrowed as he studied the unconscious girl's pallid face. "We need to help her, regardless of her wishes. She's clearly in no state to make decisions."
"I agree," Ayame nodded, already reaching for the bandages she kept in the drawer of the nearby cabinet.
"Whatever her reasons, she needs medical attention now." With practiced precision, she began wrapping the girl's wounded arms, the white fabric quickly blooming with crimson spots.
Arashi sat on his throne—His fingers drummed silently on the armrest as his mind raced through possibilities. The silence around him was heavy with unspoken questions.
'Why are they helping her?' Arashi thought, his gaze sliding toward Mikasa, cold and calculating. 'It's peculiar they'd still offer kindness when she explicitly refused it. What's her game?'
In that precise moment, Arashi caught a flash of movement—something spinning through the air at alarming speed, aimed directly at Mikasa's exposed throat.
The blade reflected the candlelight, a deadly star hurtling through the chamber.
Before he could even rise from his seat, Ayame's hand shot out, snatching the dagger by its hilt without even turning to look.
The blade had stopped mere inches from its intended target, frozen in her grip.
Arashi's eyes widened, genuine amazement breaking through his composed facade.
'Remarkable,' he thought. 'She caught that spinning dagger by the hilt without even looking. Those reflexes weren't trained—they were instinctive, almost supernatural.'
"It seems we have a guest," Arashi announced, his voice deceptively soft in the quiet chamber.
"An uninvited one, at that," Ayame added, her grip on the dagger tightening as her eyes swept the room's shadows.
"What just happened?" Kaito exclaimed, his hands already drawing his twin blades with a metallic whisper.
His stance changed instantly from relaxed to combat-ready. "Where did that dagger come from?"
"Selene," Arashi called out, his voice echoing against the stone walls. "I know you're watching. Why not show yourself?" His words carried no urgency, just quiet certainty.
Kaito and Ayame exchanged glances. Kaito's face twisted in disbelief—there was no one else in the room that he could see.
The chamber doors remained closed, the windows sealed.
Ayame, however, watched Arashi with curious intensity, her head tilted slightly as if listening for something beyond normal hearing.
"Selene? Here?" Kaito's voice cracked slightly. "Why would she—"
His question died in his throat as a figure stepped through the solid wall, materializing from the shadows as if they were nothing more substantial than mist.
The darkness seemed to cling to her form before reluctantly releasing her into the light.
Kaito's jaw dropped, his grip on his weapons faltering momentarily. "H-how did she...?" The words stumbled out in a shocked whisper.
She just walked through the wall like it was nothing,' he thought frantically, trying to regain his composure. 'I've never seen magic of this type before. That caught me completely off guard. Gods, I hope I didn't embarrass myself too badly.'
His shock was understandable. In a world where the four elemental magics reigned supreme—fire, water, earth, and air—such shadow manipulation was virtually unheard of, the stuff of legends and nightmares rather than reality.
Ayame, by contrast, remained statue-still, but her entire demeanor had changed.
A deep frown creased her forehead, and her hands had clenched into tight fists at her sides. The tension radiating from her was palpable, like static electricity before a storm.
"You have a way of making things fun and attracting trouble," Selene purred, her voice like honey poured over broken glass. She circled the room with predatory grace, each step deliberate.
"I like that about you... it makes my blood boil." Her smile was playful, but her eyes remained cold and calculating.
"Show me your worth. " Arashi instructed impatient but cold " are you going to do it or not?" Arashi asked flatly, deliberately ignoring her provocative tone.
His patience was visibly wearing thin, the only indication being the slight tightening around his eyes.
"It's already done," Selene replied with a hint of a smirk playing across her lips. "And you'll be surprised."
As she spoke, a deeper shadow materialized beside her. It elongated, stretching across the floor before rising up like a living column of darkness.
A pale arm reached into the void, slowly pulling out a struggling figure.
The captive's body was bound tightly by writhing shadow-straps that seemed alive, constricting with each attempt to break free.
When Selene finally unwrapped him with a casual flick of her wrist, the bindings slithered away like serpents retreating into darkness.
The first thing they saw was a shock of crimson hair, bright as fresh blood against the chamber's muted colors. Recognition dawned simultaneously on everyone's faces.
"Renji!" Kaito gasped, his eyes widening in shock and dismay. The weapon in his hand lowered slightly as confusion overtook his battle-readiness.
"I knew he was an idiot," Ayame sighed, her expression shifting from anger to something closer to pity.
"But I never thought he'd do something this foolish. What has he gotten himself involved in now?" The question hung in the air, unanswered.
Before anyone could organize their scattered thoughts, a sharp knock echoed through the chamber, the sound reverberating off the stone walls like a warning.
In that moment, Arashi returned to his throne, his movements fluid and unhurried.
He settled back into the carved seat, his posture perfect, his eyes cold.
The warm candlelight did nothing to soften the calculating intensity of his gaze as he mentally assembled the pieces of this complex puzzle.
And then, understanding dawned.
A slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face, transforming his features from merely handsome to something almost predatory.
'I see now,' he thought, satisfaction coursing through him. 'These random situations appearing out of nowhere—they're trying to overwhelm me, distract me from preparing for the Survival Series. How... interesting.'
Meanwhile, in the Student Council's office across the academy grounds, a different scene unfolded.
The council chamber was a stark contrast to Arashi's—all clean lines and modern furnishings, bathed in the harsh light of crystal lamps.
Leanhalt sat at his imposing desk, his presence absolute in the room.
The very air seemed charged with his authority. Behind him stood Aisla, her posture perfect as she clutched documents close to her chest, her expression carefully neutral despite the tension.
"So he ignored our invitation yet again," Leanhalt observed, his voice carrying an air of amusement that didn't reach his cold eyes. "Even when we offered our assistance."
"The boy is starting to get a big head," Vincent added from where he stood by the window, his tone frigid.
"A clear sign of foolishness and stupidity." The moonlight streaming in cast half his face in shadow, giving him an almost theatrical appearance of duality.
"And the paperwork is never-ending because of him," he continued, gesturing toward the towering stacks of documents that threatened to topple over at any moment.
"Look at all these files—requests and complaints, all because of one person." Vincent plucked a paper from the top of the nearest stack, scanning it with obvious distaste before letting it float back down.
"Most want to destroy him," Aisla observed quietly, her first contribution to the conversation.
"Others want to join him. But none can ignore him." Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on the folders she held.
"Just what is he?" Vincent asked, frustration evident in the tightness of his shoulders and the hard line of his jaw.
"We can't win this game with our usual approach," Leanhalt said thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair.
He paused dramatically, allowing the silence to build before continuing, "Arashi Kurobane—or should I say, Arashi Velkaris—is a monster that thrives on chaos. He exposes the system's flaws by simply existing within it." A hint of something like admiration crept into his voice.
"The only one in this entire academy worthy of playing against."
Back in Arashi's council chamber, the situation had evolved. Arashi himself was no longer present, having departed without explanation, leaving the others to manage the aftermath.
Ayame had summoned the academy healers, their white robes a stark contrast to the shadowy room as they attended to both Mikasa and the captured Renji.
Renji remained partially bound by Selene's shadows, insurance against him escaping once he regained consciousness.
The dark tendrils pulsed occasionally, as if sensing his returning awareness.
Kaito moved between the healers, fetching supplies and following their terse instructions
His usual bravado replaced by quiet efficiency in the face of crisis.
Several corridors away, Arashi walked alone down a deserted hallway.
The massive windows lining one wall showcased the twin moons hanging low in the sky, their silver-crimson light reflecting off his raven hair as he moved with purposeful steps.
'That move was impressively orchestrated,' he thought, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth despite the gravity of the situation.
'Whoever is behind this understands that when a situation involves multiple players, control becomes impossible without first laying groundwork. They've created a series of events I couldn't ignore, designed specifically to cut me out of the equation.'
The thought should have concerned him. Instead, it only heightened his interest in the game that was unfolding.
As he continued down the darkened corridor, the moonlight caught the dangerous gleam in his eyes—the look of a predator who had just spotted worthy prey.