Arc 1: Origins of Ruin
Chapter 4: Shadows in the Academy
POV: Accent Tuiter
---
The Gate Mark on my hand hadn't faded.
Even after two days, it pulsed—slowly, faintly—like it was breathing.
I'd hidden it beneath my gloves. Told the medics it was a burn from overcharging Emul during the duel. They didn't question me. No one ever questions me.
Not out loud, at least.
But I can feel the stares.
I can hear the whispers crawling through the halls of the Academy like smoke.
> "Did you see how fast he moved?"
"That wasn't just blue Emul."
"His sister… they say she dreams in ancient languages."
I want to ignore it.
Focus on training.
Stay grounded.
But something shifted after the duel with the masked fighter.
The balance in the Academy is cracking.
And I'm not the only one who feels it.
---
That morning, I met Instructor Bervan in the East Wing sparring hall.
He wasn't alone.
Standing beside him was a woman I didn't recognize—tall, dressed in sleek white robes, dark circles under sharp, violet eyes. She wore the Hero Association's Omega badge on her collar.
The symbol of clean-up crews. Erasers.
> "Tuiter," Bervan grunted. "This is Enara Lucien. She's been assigned to investigate the duel."
"Investigate?" I raised a brow.
"It wasn't scheduled," Enara said flatly. "No one from the Academy requested a Level-3 masked challenger. The match you fought was unauthorized."
My mouth went dry.
So it really wasn't just me imagining it.
"Who sent them, then?"
Enara's eyes didn't blink.
"That's what I'm here to find out."
---
She escorted me to the Records Chamber.
It was quiet. Dim. Rows of scrolls and crystal data cores flickering with runes that responded only to Hero clearance.
She placed her palm on a sealed slab.
It unlocked with a chime and a glow of pure gold Emul.
Limitless-tier security.
This woman wasn't just an inspector.
She was someone high up.
We sat.
She opened a file.
Not about the duel.
About me.
> Subject: Accent Tuiter
Blue Flame Emul, Born 12 Y.E.
Sibling: Accent Vivant (Status: Monitored)
Guardian: Accent Kecktos
Clearance Level: Grey
Enara tapped the words "Monitored."
"You know what this means?"
I swallowed.
"I've seen it before. It means… someone is being watched for anomalous traits."
She nodded. "Usually used for rogue casters. Or latent Gates."
Her eyes locked on mine.
"So why is it on your sister's record?"
I didn't answer.
Not because I didn't want to.
But because I couldn't.
Because I'd never been told the truth.
---
Enara leaned forward.
"I believe the masked fighter was a Resider."
My back straightened.
"You're sure?"
"Positive. Their sigil was active and incomplete—exactly the kind Destroyers use before full possession."
That hit harder than I expected.
Because that same sigil…
Was in my dreams last night.
Burning across the sky.
---
Then she handed me something.
A torn scrap of the cloak the fighter wore.
I didn't know how she got it—probably stole it during the panic—but the moment it touched my fingers, it reacted.
The Emul in the fabric pulsed.
And in that moment…
I heard a voice.
> "One of you must open the way."
I dropped the cloth.
"What did you hear?" Enara asked immediately.
I hesitated.
She could see it on my face.
"Don't lie."
"…A voice," I said slowly. "Like a memory. Tied to me."
She stared at me for a long time.
Then finally leaned back and said something I didn't expect.
> "Tuiter… the Hero Association isn't just protecting the world. We're containing it."
---
I blinked.
"What does that mean?"
But she stood up.
"This conversation didn't happen. If you want to live long enough to protect your sister, you'll need to be smarter than the heroes around you."
And then she left me alone.
With a file that was still glowing.
With the name Vivant Accent pulsing beside the word:
> Gate.
---
That night, I stood outside the Academy, watching the two moons inch closer.
Only a few weeks until Euro returned.
I wasn't ready.
Not for the prophecy.
Not for Vivant's truth.
And definitely not for the monsters that looked like heroes.
---
Somewhere nearby, I felt a presence watching me.
High on the Academy tower, a figure stood in the shadows.
For just a second, I saw their cloak flutter in the wind.
Silver threads.
Platinum lining.
The mark of Astral's heralds.
They were already inside the walls.