Deep within the heart of Star Academy lay a chamber no student knew about—The Observation Room, known among faculty as Oversight. It was a circular stone room layered in rings of floating magical glyphs, runes crawling through the air like glowing serpents. At the center stood a massive green-tinted projection wall, fractured into hundreds of hovering panes. Each displayed a real-time image of students dropped into the forest—some fighting, others hiding, some already forming groups. Some were even... meditating?
Dozens of faculty members stood inside, murmuring, watching with intense scrutiny. There were professors draped in enchanted robes, sharp-eyed spellmasters of elemental lore, and even the academy's nurse—Madam Clover—who sipped her tea while watching someone sprain their ankle trying to punch a tree.
"Idiots," she muttered softly.
The Guidance Counselor, a sleepy-looking woman with ink-stained gloves, watched her personal picks with glazed curiosity. But most eyes weren't on the students.
They were on the two most powerful people in the room, mid-argument.
One, Queen Elizabeth Lane—radiant in a robe of holy silk, glowing with a passive aura of divine authority.
The other, Archibald Emeres, Headmaster of Star Academy and known in certain circles as Archie the Stormgrasp, a legend in his own right. His robes fluttered with static even though there was no wind.
The two stood in the middle of the room, glaring at each other like ancient rivals playing their hundredth match of chess.
"You've stacked the deck, Elizabeth," Archie muttered, arms folded. "Your son, your daughter, handpicked knights from your Order of Light... what happened to neutrality?"
The Queen smirked. "You speak of neutrality, and yet you brought two new disciples into this year's class. Did you not learn from the last time you meddled, Archibald?"
That drew gasps from the faculty. A teacher dropped their clipboard. Even the otherwise-silent Rune Professor leaned forward, brows rising.
Archie's lightning-crackled eyes gleamed with challenge.
"They're different," he said simply.
"Oh? Let's see," Elizabeth said, gesturing with two fingers.
The Overseers murmured and complied. Two panes zoomed in, becoming one. The image shifted and centered on two figures:
Jess and Troy—both standing near separate brooks in the forest, unaware they were being watched by every member of the institution.
Troy stood shirtless, the faint glint of runic scars visible under his skin as he held a crude, broken branch like a weapon. His eyes were focused.
Jess sat atop a rock, one leg crossed over the other, calmly watching a trio of nearby students approach like she was judging a chessboard before the first move. Her long black hair and piercing eyes made her look like a reaper waiting to strike.
Elizabeth squinted, then smirked. "Ah. Goth siblings. No wonder you like them—moody, broody, and fashionably overdramatic. Typical of your taste."
"They aren't siblings," Archie replied.
That silenced the entire room.
"…Excuse me?" asked the nurse.
Archie didn't flinch.
"They're lovers."
A few choked. Someone in the back coughed into their sleeve. Madam Clover blinked like someone had just thrown cold tea in her face. The Guidance Counselor covered her mouth, grinning.
"Well," the Queen said, raising a brow. "I suppose it's fine. Not the first time two students were romantically involved… though it does mean they'll likely request joint classes. Great."
All around the room, groans followed. Scheduling issues. Compatibility tests. Partnered duels. Headaches.
Except for one person—the Detention Overseer, Mister Hallen. A massive man with ink-black eyes and a scar like a bolt across his cheek, he chuckled with delight.
"Good. I like problem children."
The Queen waved him off, smirking.
"Say what you will," she said. "But my son has already made allies. He's elegant, skilled, and was trained from the womb for swordplay."
"Let's hope that's enough," Archie replied.
"And my daughter?" Elizabeth added, her voice lowering slightly.
Archie raised his brow. "Holy affinity like I've never seen. Still... a bit brash, no?"
"You try raising a girl who looks like a goddess and treats ball gowns like battle armor," Elizabeth muttered. "She despises parties. Calls them breeding grounds for political parasites."
Archie's lips twitched. "She's not wrong."
The Queen's voice softened only slightly. "She hated how every dress clung to her. Hated the stares. Only ever smiled at three men: her father, you, and the King." She paused. "One of them's gone."
A solemn stillness took the room. A few heads bowed.
But Elizabeth regained her poise quickly.
"That man died for the future. I raise his daughter for it. If that means clashing with brats, so be it. Besides—" She turned with a teasing grin, "—you picked your students because you thought it'd be fun, didn't you?"
Archie didn't deny it.
"I expected talent," he said. "I got brilliance. And something else I haven't seen in decades."
"What's that?" asked the Rune Professor.
"Instinct."
A chill passed through the room.
But amidst all the seriousness and strategy, in the far left corner of the Observation Room, someone smiled for a different reason.
The Constellation Magic Professor, Sir Gaius Ferrow, a silver-haired man in a star-stitched coat, watched the panes with narrowed eyes. One screen zoomed in on a boy—his son—Kael Ferrow, a young man wielding a blade of starlight and a magic that curved through space like streaks of meteors.
Kael cut through opponents with brutal swings, catching some students unaware and others completely overpowered. He showed no hesitation, no mercy—only perfect rhythm and practiced violence.
The faculty whispered in admiration.
"Such fluid footwork."
"He uses constellation magic like a master."
"He's already defeated four students…"
Sir Gaius folded his arms smugly.
"This year will crown a Ferrow," he said to no one in particular. "I guarantee it."
But that smugness cracked—just slightly—when the next pane flickered.
Kael wasn't alone anymore.
Across the grove, from the shadows of the trees, came a single figure.
Troy.
He stepped into the clearing, holding the same makeshift branch—but now it shimmered faintly with blessing energy, laced through with black and red veins.
Kael turned.
Their eyes met.
Troy didn't speak.
Kael smirked.
And then—the pane cut to black.
Back in Oversight, every teacher leaned forward.
Even the Queen raised a brow.
Archie smiled.
The Headmaster's voice was barely a whisper.
"Now it begins."