The air in the high-security medical wing of Veridia Academy didn't just feel sterile; it felt suffocating.
Humming with the low, electrical thrum of suppression magic, the room was a cage of white light. Junior Kaito sat on the edge of a stark bed, his skin looking grey against the bleached sheets. Around his wrist was a thin, glowing band of silver—a magical restraint that felt like a lead weight. Every time he tried to take a deep breath, the band pulsed, a cold reminder that he was no longer just a student. He was a threat.
Exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. Across the room, Director Kaido stood like a statue of ice, his unreadable gaze fixed on Junior. Beside him, Sakura Hoshino was swiping through hovering displays of glowing energy readings.
"The residual energy is volatile, Director," Sakura reported, her voice as sharp as a scalpel. "It's unprecedented. His core isn't just fluctuating; it's screaming. I've never seen a signature this dense. It's like trying to suppress a supernova with a silk net."
Kaido finally spoke, his voice resonating with a power that made the glass instruments in the room vibrate. "A storm without a rudder. Kaito," he addressed Junior, "effective immediately, your life at this Academy is over. You will undergo specialized training. Your power is a danger to every soul in this building—and to yourself. Sakura Hoshino will be your Master. You will follow her every command, or you will be permanently contained."
Junior flinched as if he'd been struck. "Master? But... I don't even know what I did! I'm Bronze-ranked! I just want to go home. I want things to go back to normal!"
His voice was small, cracking under the weight of a raw, desperate plea. He thought of his father, Darius, probably flipping pancakes right now. He thought of the snickering classmates. Even the snickers felt better than this cold, high-stakes prison.
Sakura stepped forward, her eyes piercing through him. "Normal is a ghost, Kaito. Forget it. You have unraveled the Veil. You are a catalyst for the end of the world. Now, you learn to control it, or the Aether will consume you—and then it will consume everything else."
The Abyssal Realm
Far away, in a dimension where the sun was a black hole and the ground was made of jagged, obsidian rock, the Demon King Anos sat upon a throne of bones.
The air here was thick with the scent of sulfur and ancient blood. Assembled before him were the Seven Generals, creatures of nightmare that had wiped out entire civilizations. There was Malakor, a towering colossus of living shadow and cold steel, and Lilithia, a demoness whose beauty was a mask for the dark miasma that decayed everything she touched.
"The disturbance grows," Anos's voice rumbled, a sound like grinding tectonic plates. "A ripple has become a wave. A human has touched the Veil in a way that hasn't been seen for a thousand years. The nexus is stirring."
Malakor bowed, his steel armor clashing. "My King, our scouts confirm the resonance. It is crude. It is the work of an untrained fool. But it is undeniably the echo of the ancient Monarch."
Anos sneered, a terrifying flicker of crimson amusement in his eyes. "Precisely. A new Spirit Monarch has awakened, and he is a child playing with a loaded crossbow. He has moved our timetable forward by centuries."
Lilithia chuckled, her voice sounding like dry leaves skittering across a grave. "Shall we invade, my King? The breach is weak. My legions are starving for the taste of human fear."
Anos raised a clawed hand, and the entire cavern went silent. "Not yet. Impatience is a flaw of the weak. Let the human mages exhaust themselves trying to contain him. Let the boy's uncontrolled power create chaos from within their own walls."
His eyes gleamed with a cold, predatory calculation. "Our invasion will not be a skirmish. It will be an extinction. We will wait for the wards to break. We will wait for Season 4. For now... let the Monarch struggle. Malakor, continue to test the boundaries. Lilithia, gather the legions. The feast is coming."
The generals roared their assent, a sound of such pure malice it would have turned a mortal's hair white.
Veridia Academy: The Deep Levels
Back at the Academy, Junior was led past the infirmary and down into the bowels of the earth.
The training chamber was a desolate, circular room carved directly into the bedrock. There were no windows, no comforts. Only a complex, glowing array of runic circles etched into the floor, designed for elemental containment.
Sakura Hoshino stood at the center, her hands already glowing with a faint, suppressive blue aura.
"We begin," she stated. "Today, you will learn to feel the edge of your power without letting it tear your soul apart. You will learn discipline. You will learn to survive the chaos you unleashed."
Junior looked at the runes, feeling like an ant in the shadow of a mountain. He was a Bronze-ranked student being forced into a Grandmaster's war. He missed Jason's pragmatism. He missed Jenny's quiet support. This wasn't magic; it was survival.
Leo Vance, hidden as a tiny, flickering spark on Junior's shoulder, whispered into his ear. "Steady, kid. She's tough, but she's not the one with the Monarch's soul. Breathe."
Sakura slammed her foot down, and the runic array flared to life. Stark, cold blue light engulfed the room. Junior gasped as the suppression magic hit him like a physical blow, trying to crush the Aether back into his veins.
His eyes turned multi-colored, glowing with a desperate, wild light as he fought to stay standing. The impossible burden had officially begun.