The classroom buzzed like a hive.
More than a hundred students were seated in rows, whispering, talking, flipping through textbooks.
On the board, written in large symbols, was the title of today's lecture:
'The Global Cataclysm and the Consequences of the Last War'
Sai sat closer to the back row—next to Lars, who was already yawning, his chin propped in his hands.
The air was dry, smelling of paper and old dust.
"So then," the instructor's voice cut through the hall's hum.
A man in his fifties, with greying hair and a cold, piercing gaze, entered. On his uniform was the Academy's insignia and three silver circles, the symbol of a high-ranking scholar-mage.
"Today, we will not speak of formulas or techniques. Today, you will learn why our world became what it is."
He touched the crystal on the lectern—and an illusion unfolded in the air above the hall: Earth, blue, whole.
Then—a flash.
The sound of an explosion.
Spherical fire engulfing the continents.
"The year 2047. The Last War between superpowers.
Nuclear weapons, thermoreactive charges, biokinetic waves—everything humanity had invented over millennia was turned against itself."
Silence hung in the air. Even Lars stopped fidgeting.
"In three days, governments, borders, cities vanished.
In a week—the very structure of the planet changed. Continents cracked and joined anew, forming the current Spheres."
In the illusion, Earth cracked like a mirror.
"But that was only the beginning.
When the last charge detonated over the South Pole, the sky… opened."
He paused.
And a picture appeared in the air above the hall: a black, cracked sky, from which figures fell—first indistinct, then clearer and clearer.
"We do not know what it was.
Some called it 'The Fall'. Others—'Retribution'.
Monsters began to fall from the sky.
Creatures without form, yet possessing consciousness.
Death came like rain."
Lars whispered quietly:
"So that's why our era is called 'The Rebirth'…"
"After The Fall," the instructor continued, "Rifts opened in the world.
Demons, spirits, monsters—beings from other dimensions—emerged from them. They fought amongst themselves, destroying everything around them.
No human could withstand them."
On the screen—cities shrouded in smoke, fire, figures of people running in terror.
"It was then that those we later called 'Forces of Will' appeared.
Entities belonging neither to body nor mind. Their energy permeated the living, altering human nature.
Thus, the first mages and cultivators emerged."
He stepped to the board and drew a circle:
"Among all the Wills, there was one, the most ancient. One that obeyed neither demons nor gods.
The Will of Shadows."
The illusion changed again—now a figure, resembling a human woven entirely from darkness, hovered above the hall. Eyes—two white, cold spots.
"It was the shadow of everything that existed.
And when the demons and monsters clashed in the final battle, it was the bearers of the Will of Shadows who destroyed both sides.
The world survived… but they disappeared."
He turned to the students.
"Since then, any connection to this power is forbidden.
Anyone who awakens its echo within themselves is subject to isolation and observation.
They are placed in separate classes, under the Academy's supervision."
The hall grew hushed and cold.
Someone whispered:
"But there aren't any left… right?"
The instructor smirked.
"We hope so."
Sai sat motionless.
A heaviness settled in his chest, as if an invisible slab had descended upon him.
The Echo inside seemed to stir, softly, like a breath.
'You see? Even they fear me.'
He didn't answer.
But his heart beat faster.
"Three hundred and seventy-nine years have passed since The Fall," the teacher continued. —
"We live in a world where magic is not a miracle, but a tool for survival.
Where science and will have intertwined.
And all that remains of humanity is the Federation and its Academies."
He fell silent, closed the illusion.
"That is why you are here. To not repeat the mistakes of the past.
So that power serves you, and does not consume you."
The instructor swept his gaze across the hall, and for a moment, his eyes met Sai's.
Something flashed in that look—suspicion? interest? a warning?
No one could tell.
The bell rang.
Students began gathering their things, talking amongst themselves.
Lars stretched, sighing:
"And still… it's hard to believe we once destroyed ourselves."
Sai stood up.
"People often destroy what they fear."
"Hey, now you sound like your grandpa," Lars snorted.
Sai didn't answer.
He walked down the corridor and felt the Echo laughing quietly deep within.
Not loudly, not gloatingly—just as if it knew something he hadn't yet understood.
And perhaps, at that moment, Sai felt for the first time—
that his path was not merely towards strength.
But towards unraveling the mystery of those who had wielded the Will of Shadows.
---
After the lecture, Sai walked through the Academy corridor, watching his reflection in the windows.
Dark hair, white eyes—a rare combination that often made other students turn and look.
Today, he felt particularly drained.
The history the instructor had recounted seemed to come alive in his head—explosions, the sky split in two, falling monsters.
He couldn't shake the images.
His phone vibrated in his pocket.
The screen showed "Grandpa".
Sai smiled and answered.
"Hello."
"So, you're alive?" came the old man's hoarse voice.
In the background noise, the crackling of a fire could be guessed. —
"How are things in that Academy of Light and Order? Haven't those arrogant rich kids eaten you alive yet?"
Sai smirked.
"Not yet. Although… one tried. But he seemed scared off by my gaze."
"Good," Grandpa grunted. "Let them know you're not one to just go along.
How are the studies? Is your head not exploding?"
"Almost," Sai sighed. "Today we had a lecture about the Last War.
It was… hard to listen to."
"Heh. Humanity's old sins," Grandpa muttered. "And still, they learn nothing.
The important thing is that you don't become one of those who believe power makes a person great."
"I remember," Sai replied quietly. "You said—power is needed to protect, not to break."
"Good. Means I didn't waste my time with you," the old man chuckled. —
"Alright, listen. I sent you some money so you don't go hungry. The Academy, for all its praise, probably feeds you like soldiers on the front lines."
Sai stopped by a window. Below, students were dispersing along the paths; some were laughing, others training in the courtyard.
He ran his fingers over the glass and replied:
"You don't have to, Grandpa. I'll try to find a part-time job. Down in the Lower Sector, there's an enchantment shop, I hear they're looking for an assistant."
"A part-time job, huh…" Grandpa sighed heavily. —
"You're stubborn, just like I was in my youth.
But remember: your main job is your studies.
Everything else can wait."
"I just don't want you spending on me," said Sai.
"You've already done too much."
"Ha! So an old man doesn't have the right to care for his student?
Next you'll tell me you don't miss me."
Sai smirked.
"Of course I miss you. It's just… I don't want you to worry."
"Too late," Grandpa replied. "I started worrying the day I first saw you in the orphanage, trembling at every rustle.
And, you know, now that I see you standing on your own two feet… I'm proud.
Even if you don't understand that."
Sai fell silent.
A pause hung between them.
He pressed the phone closer to his ear and whispered:
"Thank you, Grandpa."
"Don't thank me. Better prove you can see this through to the end," the old man said, softer now. —
"Now go, eat. I can tell by your voice you haven't eaten all day again."
"Okay, okay," Sai smiled. "I'll try not to starve."
"That's my boy.
And don't forget: if you feel something strange… something you can't explain—call me immediately."
Sai frowned.
"Strange? You mean the Echo?"
Grandpa was silent for a moment.
"Anything related to it.
Don't you dare hide it, understood?"
"Understood," Sai nodded. "Although lately it's been… quiet. I barely hear it."
"That's not always good news," the old man grumbled. —
"The silence before the storm can be louder than thunder."
The connection hissed for a second.
"Alright, I have to go. Take care of yourself, kid. And don't argue with the teachers—they're fools, sure, but not all of them are enemies."
"I'll pass on your opinion," Sai snorted.
"Don't you dare," Grandpa laughed, and the call ended.
Sai lowered the phone, a slight smile lingering on his face.
He looked at the sky—crimson from the sunset, warm, as if breathing.
'The silence before the storm…'
For some reason, those words stuck in his head.
He didn't know what exactly Grandpa had sensed, but that night, as Sai went to sleep,
in his dream he heard the voice again—not Grandpa's, but the Echo's.
'You are growing, Sai. But the stronger you become, the closer I am…'
He woke up in a cold sweat, staring at the ceiling.
Pale moonlight filtered through the curtain, and it seemed as if a shadow was stirring within it.