From a vast sea of clouds rose a jagged mountain peak. The mountain was shaped strangely—not like regular mountains at all.
It was round and jagged, with a sea of crimson cloud swirling at its center. At the far end of this roundness sat the mountain's peak, where the great alloy walls of the Academy stood.
Opposite the Academy, before one crossed the crimson sea of cloud, a group of people waited. Above them, seven different airships floated like silent sentinels.
At their front stood a man with a scar slashed across one closed eye. He stared down at the crimson depths, his military coat snapping and beating violently as the wind picked up pace.
Behind him, several others stood at attention, dressed just like him. Their black military coats whipped against the growing wind.
A heavy silence wrapped around them like a shroud, thick with tension. Their gazes were trained and razor-sharp.
One of them—black spiky hair fighting against his military cap—broke the quiet.
