The first note did not merely break the pre-dawn silence of the Academy; it shattered it with absolute authority.
A cello's low, agonizingly rich drawl bled through the vaulted stone corridors of the student sector. The unseen player wielded undeniable mastery. Each deliberate drag of the bow pulled a dark, flawless resonance from the wood. It carried no cheer—anchored instead by a brutal, mathematical precision—yet it possessed a breathtaking clarity that flooded the empty, freezing halls with an unearned warmth.
Through the dormitories, the perpetual knot of student anxiety began to loosen. The melody swelled, vibrating upward through the stone floors and singing against the stained-glass windows, lulling the halls until—
"Shut that noise!"
The roar tore through the corridor, detonating from the forbidden room at the far end. It butchered the harmony instantly, slaughtering the children's musical dreams in a single, violent breath.
Or so it seemed.
Whispers slithered through the corridor.
"Hey, he can't tell us what to do!"
"We're all students of the Honor Class. Plus, there's a piano in the lobby for a reason."
"Yeah, but let's just play a little quieter."
The velvet harmony sparked back to life, humming through the stone bones of the building, offering peace to the trembling ears of the—
Bang!
The music choked on a severed chord. Every head snapped toward the end of the hall. The heavy oak door, previously sealed tight, stood wide open. It vomited a pure, suffocating darkness into the hallway, a pitch-black void crafted by window shades pulled tight against the dawn.
From that shadow stepped red.
It was a violent, bruising crimson—a color that triggered innate, screaming instincts of distress. A color that painted its wearer as an immediate target. But the beast draped in it was no man's prey.
"I told you to stop it, didn't I?" Vicktor growled. He jerked his head back, ripping a monstrous yawn from his throat.
He rolled his shoulders. The heavy muscle shifted under his shirt. "Since you don't want to listen, that must mean you want to fight, right?"
He cracked his knuckles. With every sharp, rhythmic snap of bone, the entire room flinched.
"No, Vicktor," a boy finally blurted, shrinking into himself. "I mean, we were just, uh, wanting to, uh, give everyone some nice music to wake up to..." His voice withered into a pathetic rasp under Vicktor's smoldering glare.
"Come, now."
Two words. Smooth, magnetic, dripping with a terrifyingly serene authority.
The suffocating tension in the room instantly evaporated. Vicktor froze. He didn't turn as the newcomer stepped up behind him. A hand descended, resting lightly against Vicktor's rigid shoulder.
"The music was played with good intentions," Arthur said, his voice a balm over the bruised silence. "But you guys should've respected his opinion as well. This is a shared space, so you shouldn't disturb other people."
Arthur paused, his gaze drifting to the grandfather clock at the end of the hall. The gilded hands read 7:15.
"Hmm. Let's say that no music loud enough to pass through walls can be played in the dorm before... 7:30, alright? Is that fair?"
A chorus of relieved murmurs and breathless nods swept through the gathered students. Everyone agreed.
Everyone except Vicktor.
"Well, we can work out the numbers later down the line if anyone wants modifications," Arthur continued, flashing a disarming smile. "Since we're already all up, let's dress and get ready for the day."
Vicktor remained paralyzed, a statue of simmering rage, until the invisible weight of that hand finally lifted from his shoulder. The second he was free, he spun on his heel. His face twisted into a mask of bitter, impotent fury. He crossed his threshold without a single syllable, snapping the door shut behind him.
The latch clicked, sealing him inside. Vicktor sank onto the edge of his cool bed, swallowed once more by the dust and the absolute dark.
He sat. Five minutes bled into ten. Ten stretched into twenty. He remained perfectly still in the isolation, clawing through his own mind, desperate to assemble a cohesive thought about the boy who had just subjugated the entire room with a smile.
He's the only one who understands.