"Wait, weren't there seniors from last year who should be in their second semester?" Marilyn wondered aloud to Octavius as they cleaned together. "Why does everywhere look so neglected, as if no one has lived here for ages?"
Despite the initial state of disarray, everyone's combined efforts had paid off, and the mansion was transformed. Once a dismal sight, it now looked lively again. Although the walls still showed their age, everything else sparkled with renewed vitality.
The route to the Academy was cleared, and fallen leaves were used to create decorative patterns. As the others grew tired, Octavius and Marilyn persisted, tackling the final task of tidying up the last classroom's chairs.
"I don't know, I'm quite as puzzled as you are," Octavius responded.
Void, meanwhile, lay sprawled across a nearby desk, muttering incoherently. Octavius had long given up trying to decipher the meaning behind Void's repetitive phrase, [No bad bitches.] Having never heard the term before, Octavius had dismissed it as nonsensical.
Moving on to another desk, Octavius began to clean it. As he wiped the surface, he noticed some faint scratches on the table. Leaning in closer to investigate, he realized the scratches formed an inscription – a single word: "hate."
Curious, Octavius scanned the surrounding area, searching for more writings. His eyes landed on a nearby section of the desk, where two more words were etched: "it here." The complete phrase, "Hate it here," left Octavius standing upright, wondering why someone would vandalize the desk with such a sentiment.
As Octavius moved to another table, leaving the previous one uncleaned, Marilyn's eyes snapped up in surprise. "What is it?" she asked.
"There's an inscription on that table," Octavius replied. "I'm trying to see if I can find it on others."
Void's curiosity was piqued, and he strolled over to investigate. After a brief glance, he shrugged. [That's normal. Everyone hates school.]
Octavius was about to respond, but his attention was diverted to another desk he had cleaned earlier. A previously unnoticed inscription caught his eye, drawing him in.
"I wish I never came here," the inscription read.
Noticing Octavius's absorbed expression, Void and Marilyn wandered over to see what had captured his attention. As they peered at the desk, they began to notice a disturbing trend. Similar phrases were etched into every desk they examined.
The messages were laced with despair and desperation. Some referred to themselves as "slaves to the academy," while others expressed a deep-seated longing to escape their existence. The words seemed to sear themselves into Octavius's mind, leaving a haunting impression.
One phrase in particular caught his eye, its desperation echoing through the silence: "I hope I don't wake up tonight."
"Given what happened earlier with other contesgyants taking the life of their fellow contetstant," Marilyn said standing upright. "This doesn't surprise me."
"There seem to be a whole lot going on in this Academy. The mages didn't even acknowledge the absence of the other contestants, did you notice?"
Octavius nodded to himself as he gazed around the Academy. He couldn't believe that this was the same institution that inspired hope in countless individuals, including the Architects, who were often overlooked due to their perceived lack of power compared to other factions.
He recalled never having aspirations to join the Architect faction, not out of disdain, but simply because they were ranked lowest. As the Headmaster's son, Octavius had always felt a sense of expectation to excel, to be part of a more prestigious faction. But life had taken an unexpected turn, and here he was, a member of the Architect faction.
Octavius turned to Marilyn, a memory suddenly resurfacing. "I never got the chance to thank you for standing up for me," he let out, changing the tense atmosphere.
[This is clean.] Void suddenly piqued at their change of conversation.
Marilyn's face lit up with a warm smile, her dimples deepening. "You don't have to thank me," she said. "You helped me earlier, and I was more than happy to return the favor."
Void's eyes darted back and forth between Octavius and Marilyn, suddenly excited. [This is what I mean...] he drawled, his voice trailing off as he continued to observe the connection between them with rapt attention.
Just as Void thought something else was going to happen, The door swung open, and their attention shifted to the entrance. Nadia stood in the doorway, her presence commanding attention.
[There comes the enemy of progress] Void let out throwing his hands in the air as he does so.
Nadia's gaze swept across the room, her eyes widening in surprise as they landed on Octavius and Marilyn.
She seemed momentarily stunned before composing herself. "The Architect Mage is here," she announced. "He wants everyone downstairs."
Despite her declaration, Nadia remained rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed intently on Octavius and Marilyn. Void's patience wore thin, and he whispered to Octavius, [I'm going to kill her if she doesn't move.]
Octavius choked on his saliva, hastily making his way out of the room. Marilyn followed closely behind. As Void turned to leave, he whispered in Nadia's ear, [Enemy of progress.]
Nadia's head snapped around, her eyes locking onto Void's with an unnerving intensity. Void recoiled, startled, his eyes widening in surprise as he stumbled backward.
[You can see me?] he exclaimed.
But Nadia's gaze didn't waver from its fixed point. Void's confusion deepened as he realized she wasn't looking at him at all – she was staring past him, at the mirror behind him.
Void's eyes shifted, following her line of sight. He peered into the mirror, and as expected, his own reflection was absent. However, Nadia's reflection stared back, it features a stark contrast to her actual appearance.
In the mirror, Nadia's bald head was covered in vibrant white hair, a jarring disconnection from the features she bore.