The night was silent, but Alistair Grayson's heart roared with anticipation.
Inside the ancient archives beneath Nocturne Academy, the air was thick with forgotten magic. Dust clung to the air like a spell waiting to be broken. Alistair stood alone, holding a book unlike any other—a book that had called to him since the day he entered the academy.
Its cover was black leather, veined like it was alive. The title was etched in gold:
"The Architect's Grimoire."
He didn't understand it fully, not yet. But something in his blood reacted to it. His veins pulsed with heat the moment his fingers touched the surface.
> "You are chosen," a voice whispered—not from the room, but from within the book itself.
Alistair opened the grimoire.
The pages shifted on their own, flipping to the first spell. It wasn't like any ordinary magic. It wasn't about fire, wind, or lightning. It was something deeper.
It was about creation.
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The Magic System: Architect's Will
A strange light burned into Alistair's eyes as the knowledge poured in:
Architect's Will: A system of magic that allowed him to design the world. He could build illusions, craft mental traps, even shape physical reality—if he had enough Willforce.
Willforce: A hidden energy drawn from emotion, intention, and domination. The more control Alistair had over people and his surroundings, the more powerful he became.
Blueprints of Power: Every new spell was called a "Blueprint." They had to be imagined and then drawn within the mind before being used.
Silent Construction: His spells left no trace. No glowing circles. No chanting. Just results. Clean. Deadly. Quiet.
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As the magic flowed into his mind, Alistair felt his personality shift again—sharper, colder, more focused.
> "This world is a puzzle," he whispered. "And now... I have the tools to reshape it."
He raised his hand. No one else was watching. Still, he wanted to test it.
He visualized a door—a secret exit from the archives, something even the professors didn't know.
In his mind, he drew the lines. He shaped the hinges. He added the lock.
A second later, the wall in front of him shimmered.
Click.
A real door appeared.
Alistair stepped through it into the moonlit courtyard, unseen and unheard. A grin curved on his lips.
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The Beginning of His Rise
Now, Alistair wasn't just a clever boy with a sharp tongue.
He was something more.
A silent architect of fate.
He looked up at the twelve towers of the academy, each one housing a noble House with its own secrets and ambitions.
> "I'll remake all of you," he thought. "One blueprint at a time."
And in the shadows of the midnight garden, the Architect's Grimoire glowed faintly… waiting to reveal its next spell.
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