Arcane… How was it different from other forms of magic?


    It didn’t just manipulate energy or elements—it seemed to bring things to life.


    The more I tried to understand its nature, the more convoluted and branched out the concept became. It was like pulling at the thread of a tangled web, only to find more layers hidden beneath, each more complex than the last.


    <hr>


    The next day, Jade and I attended our lectures as usual. For half the day, everything felt normal, as if the storm that had been brewing was now lying dormant. But I knew better—this was the calm before the inevitable punishment. I was sure by now, the academy had figured that Jade and I were the reason for the bad situation. And then, the moment of judgment arrived. Halfway through our lecture, a woman in a sharp suit appeared at the door. Without a word, she gestured for me to follow. My pulse quickened, but I kept my expression neutral. I gathered my belongings, trying not to meet the curious gazes of my classmates, and left the room. Now that I had time to think about it, I might be the most problematic student in our class.


    As I followed the woman down the long corridors, my mind raced with possibilities. The academy was notorious for its unconventional methods of handling discipline. They didn’t believe in simply casting students out; no, they preferred to mold, reform, or—if all else failed—break them down until they fit the institution’s ideals. Even if Jade had killed those students—and I doubted it had gone that far—the harshest penalty wouldn’t have been expulsion. Whatever awaited me at the end of this walk, I had no doubt it would be... memorable.


    In just two minutes, I found myself outside the disciplinary office.


    The assistant, without so much as a glance, motioned for me to sit in the lone chair by the wall. Then, as if I were invisible, she vanished inside, the door clicking shut behind her.


    I sat down, the silence of the hallway pressing in on me. My eyes darted around, half-expecting to see Jade already waiting. But there was no sign of her. My thoughts churned as I tried to piece together what might have happened. Jade must have been called in earlier, given our different class schedules—I hadn’t seen her since morning.


    Had they spoken to her first? Was she facing the brunt of the consequences?


    My silent questions were soon answered. The door creaked open, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts and I saw Jade stepping out. Her shoulders were slouched, her usual confident air completely stripped away. She looked like a rose cloaked in gloom, her radiance dimmed by something heavy weighing her down. She moved quietly to the seat beside me, her movements slow and subdued. She didn’t look at me, didn’t say a word. Her expression was a mix of frustration. I wanted to ask her what had happened, what punishment had been doled out, but the words caught in my throat.


    Before I could say anything, the assistant reappeared, “Mr. North,” she called, her tone clipped and professional.


    I stood, glancing back at Jade, then leaned down to give her a soft hug, reassuring hug. Her faint nod was all the response I got, but it was enough for now.


    I turned and entered the office, my curiosity piqued. In two cycles, I’d never once been dragged to the disciplinary office, so this was... new. A first, like trying out a weird dessert you weren’t sure you’d enjoy but couldn’t resist.


    The air inside the office seemed heavier, oppressive. My gaze shifted immediately to the six students standing by the desk. To my no surprise, they looked perfectly fine—no signs of the collapse or their hearts giving up from twelve hours ago. Their expressions, however, suggested they were perfectly aware of why I was here.


    “Take your seat, North,” came the calm but firm voice of the disciplinary officer, Madam Olran.


    Her nameplate gleamed under the overhead light, and her sharp gaze cut through my thoughts. I sat down without a word.


    “I assume you’re aware of why you’ve been called here.” Madam Olran said, her hands folded on the desk.


    I nodded slightly, “I have an idea.”


    Though my mind couldn’t help but wander. Were Jade and I the only ones facing the axe for this? Meanwhile, these six clowns—whose unprovoked insult had started the whole mess—stood there untouched. Untouchable, more like. I guessed the Academy wouldn’t waste much effort on them. It was always easier to focus on those who fought back rather than those who started the fight.


    “Yesterday’s incident,” Madam Olran began, “was, let’s say, disruptive. While the exact details remain unclear, our preliminary investigation suggests that you and Ms. Jade were involved.”


    “And by ‘involved,’ you mean...?”


    Her lips twitched, “Let’s not play coy, Mr. North. The aftermath speaks for itself. four students sustained serious injuries, other three minor but notable, and several more were psychologically rattled. You’ve stirred the pot, as they say.”


    I remained silent, unsure of how much to admit—or deny. The administrator leaned forward, her eyes narrowing.


    “This behavior violates not only the Academy’s student code of conduct but also basic moral expectations as metahuman.” Madam Olran''s tone was cool but unyielding.


    “The Academy values discipline highly,” She continued. “But we also value potential. So, Mr. North, I’ll ask you this once: What do you have to say for yourself?”


    I considered my words carefully. “It was… a regrettable incident,” I began, my tone measured. “But it wasn’t without provocation. I’m not excusing what happened, but it wasn’t entirely unprovoked.”


    The six students stiffened, and I could feel their resentment simmering. One of them, a lanky girl with sharp features, glared at me from the corner of her eye. Then she opened her mouth, likely to protest, but Madam Olran raised a hand sharply, silencing her before a single word escaped.


    “This is not the time for excuses,” she shut her instantly, her tone flat yet sharp. “Every person in this room is responsible for what happened, though the level of accountability differs. And each of you will face consequences.”


    Then her eyes landed back on me. “North, and your classmate Jade, the two of you displayed a lack of control and recklessness, threatening your fellow students'' lives using your meta nature. I understand tempers flared, but that does not absolve you of your actions. This academy has protocols for conflict resolution, and you chose to ignore them.”


    I tried not to sigh audibly. Of course, she had a point, but who had time for “measures” when arrogant dragons were already going for the flamethrower?


    “It’s fortunate no one was seriously hurt, but that doesn’t erase what happened. You’re both being given a chance to learn from this, but make no mistake: this is your warning. Any future incidents like this will result in much harsher consequences.”


    I nodded, mostly to make it end faster. There was nothing else to say, and it was clear she wasn’t asking for an explanation. Still, my thoughts wandered briefly. How were the families of these students feeling about the incident? Would they let this slide, or would I have to start watching my back every time I left the academy? There were a lot of vengeful, well-funded people out there who didn’t take kindly to their offspring getting a metaphorical smackdown.


    Madam Olran’s gaze shifted to the group of six students standing to the side. Her already sharp tone hardened further. “And as for you six. Your behavior was equally unacceptable. Provoking others, creating a hostile environment in the academy—it’s childish and dangerous. Words have power, and you used yours irresponsibly.”


    The lanky girl’s jaw tightened, her fists clenching at her sides, but she didn’t dare speak this time.


    “Do you think the world outside this academy will tolerate such arrogance?” Madam Olran pressed, her voice growing colder. “Do you believe your meta natures or your family names will protect you forever? They won’t. Actions have consequences, and out there, in the real world, your recklessness could cost you your life—or someone else’s.”


    With a final warning, Mrs. Olran dismissed the six students. They shuffled out with a mix of shame and suppressed irritation, their heads low. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the room significantly quieter.


    Mrs. Olran’s assistant turned her focus to me, and Mrs. Olran herself didn’t waste time.


    “Because this was your first offense and you actively attempted to deescalate the situation, I personally don’t hold you fully accountable,” she began, her tone surprisingly calm. “However, you and your fellow classmate were still the catalysts and lacked proper discipline.”


    Catalysts, I thought, fighting the urge to raise an eyebrow. Sure, let’s call us that.


    “An official letter detailing the event and its consequences will be sent to your home. As for your punishment: you are barred from using your meta nature on academy grounds for the next three months. Additionally, you will be required to complete one year of community service and attend a year-long course on power ethics.”


    I nodded, absorbing the information. Three months without using my meta nature? A minor inconvenience. Community service? Annoying, but survivable. Power ethics class? Okay, that one might sting—mostly because I’d probably fall asleep halfway through each session. All things considered, I’d gotten off pretty lightly.


    Mrs. Olran’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “However,” she said, her tone sharpening, “if there are any further signs of aggression or misuse of your meta nature against fellow students, the consequences will be far more severe. They won’t be limited to simple detention or community service. You could face prison time of up to a year or early deployment to a dangerous system’s frontline.”


    Frontline deployment? That escalated quickly. I nodded again, this time with a touch more seriousness. Not because I was scared—I just didn’t want to give her the impression that I wasn’t taking this seriously.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    “Understood,” I said, keeping my tone steady. Inside, I was already mentally drafting an excuse for the letter that would soon find its way home. Something involving “helping a friend in trouble” might work. Parents loved noble-sounding excuses.


    After a pause, I rose from my chair, feeling a small wave of relief wash over me. This could’ve gone much worse. I’d managed to avoid expulsion, and I wasn’t being sent to a cosmic deathtrap… yet.


    Just as I was about to stand up, Mrs. Olran’s voice stopped me mid-motion.


    “North,” she said, her tone softer but no less commanding. I turned, my expression carefully neutral.


    “Yes, ma’am?”


    “There’s one more thing,” Mrs. Olran said, her tone shifting slightly. It wasn’t ominous, but it wasn’t casual either. That got my attention.


    I froze, halfway out of my chair, and slowly lowered myself back down. “Go on.”


    “We received a personal message for you—from Jade’s parents.”


    Ah, there it was. My heart sank faster than a rock in a river, and for the first time during this meeting, my mask of calm cracked just a little. Whatever was coming, it wasn’t going to be a warm invitation to family dinner.


    Mrs. Olran clasped her hands, her expression neutral but her tone now overly careful, like she was handling a live grenade. “Normally, the Beyonder’s Academy doesn’t interfere in students’ personal lives. You’re free to form friendships—or relationships—as you see fit. However, Jade’s parents specifically requested that I deliver this message to you.”


    Oh, great, I thought. Because nothing screams "mind your business" like sending a formal message through the disciplinary office.


    She cleared her throat, her gaze steady. “They wanted to acknowledge that you’re a bright student with a promising future. That much is clear. However, they believe it’s in your best interest to reconsider your relationship with Jade.”


    I blinked, stunned by the sheer audacity. “Reconsider,” I echoed flatly. “As in…?”


    “As in, they think you should not see each others,” she clarified. “They’ve advised—” and here she did a great job of not rolling her eyes, “—that Jade isn’t who you think she is. In their words, your lives are incompatible, and it would be wiser to part ways now rather than regret it later.”


    I tried to keep my face blank, but my thoughts were running at full speed. Lives are incompatible? Regret it later? What is this, a dating show where parents get a veto?


    Madam Orlan must’ve noticed my rising tension, because she added, “This isn’t meant as a threat. They’ve framed it as advice—for your own well-being.”


    “Advice,” I repeated, my voice dry. “That’s thoughtful of them.”


    Mrs. Olran didn’t respond.


    “Is that all?” I asked finally, keeping my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.


    Mrs. Olran nodded, “That’s all. You’re free to leave.”


    I rose from the chair, my movements deliberate, and left the office without a backward glance. The hallway outside felt eerily empty, and I quickly noticed that Jade wasn’t waiting there anymore.


    Did she already leave?


    Then it crossed my mind that she might have spoken to her parents while inside and received a similar warning or piece of "advice." That would explain her earlier gloom. Jade wasn’t one to let punishment weigh her down; if anything, she would have brushed it off with defiance. After all, she had been ready to stand by her actions, consequences be damned. The thought unsettled me. If she had spoken with them, had their words affected her? Or was she simply fuming in her own way, refusing to let anyone—including me—see it? Perhaps they thought I was a bad influence, that I was the reason she’d acted out so recklessly. The idea unsettled me. Did they believe I was dragging her down, making her decisions for her, or worse—leading her into situations she’d regret?


    I glanced down the empty hallway one last time before heading toward the exit. Whatever they’d said to her, I’d find out soon enough. And while the idea of her parents trying to interfere annoyed me, it didn’t change anything.


    <hr>


    In the next class, I barely had time to settle into my seat before the group of Alex, Lore, Gina, Henry, and Vinico surrounded me, their curious eyes fixed on me like a spotlight. Their voices overlapped in a flurry of questions and guesses, leaving me no room to respond.


    “So, are you going to tell us what happened?”


    “Did you fight someone?”


    “Was it Jade’s idea?”


    “Do we need popcorn for this story?”


    “Guys, guys, calm down!” Alex finally stepped in, trying to restore order by physically pushing them back a step. “At least let him explain before you start grilling him!”


    I sighed, leaning back in my chair. It wasn’t as though I could escape this interrogation, so I might as well give them something to chew on. “There was an incident yesterday,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Let’s just say some people couldn’t keep their mouths shut, and Jade and I might’ve... overreacted.”


    Vinico’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Overreacted how?” he pressed, leaning in so close I could smell the mint gum he was chewing.


    I hesitated, debating whether or not to downplay the details. But judging by their expressions, they wouldn’t be satisfied until they got something juicy. “Let’s put it this way: if the academy hadn’t stepped in, things could’ve gotten… messy.”


    Gina’s brow furrowed as she folded her arms. “Messy how? Spilled drinks or spilled blood?”


    Before I could answer, Lore’s eyes widened, a spark of realization lighting up her face. “Wait,” she said, her tone sharp and accusatory. “You mean the students who mysteriously got sent to the med wing yesterday? The ones who were barely clinging to life?”


    Vinico practically jumped out of his seat. “That was you two?!” he exclaimed, a mix of awe and disbelief in his voice.


    I pinched the bridge of my nose, already regretting not keeping my mouth shut. “It wasn’t just us,” I muttered. “They started it.”


    “Classic villain defense,” Henry quipped, smirking. “They started it.”


    I rolled my eyes. “You weren’t there. Trust me, you’d have done the same thing.”


    Alex crossed his arms, tilting his head curiously. “what’s the damage? Are you guys in trouble?”


    “A little,” I admitted, keeping my tone casual. “Punishment’s not too bad—just some community service, ethics classes, and no using meta nature on campus for three months.”


    The group collectively groaned at the mention of ethics classes, their shared disdain for the mandatory lectures evident.


    “The punishment is too light,” Henry said, crossing his arms. “You two got off easy without serious repercussions.”


    I nodded, agreeing with his sentiment. We truly had gotten lucky, all things considered.


    Vinico whistled low. “Wow, you’re lucky they didn’t expel you. I mean, you guys almost killed them. That’s gotta be a new level of overkill.”


    Alex leaned closer, “Also did you guys hear something else about the student lounge?”


    Gina arched an eyebrow. “No, what about it?”


    Alex grinned. “Apparently, the academy closed it for a few days. Officially, they’re saying it’s for ‘construction’ or some routine maintenance. But I heard some students talking about weird stuff happening there.”


    “What kind of weird stuff?” Henry asked, leaning in, clearly intrigued.


    “You know, the usual... drinks spilling for no reason, people tripping over nothing, homework disappearing into thin air,” Alex said, ticking off each point on his fingers. “One guy swears he walked in and immediately lost his lucky charm. Another said the lights flickered, and he dropped his entire lunch.”


    Lore gave him a skeptical look. “You’re saying the lounge is cursed?”


    “Not cursed,” Alex replied, wiggling his eyebrows. “But... you have to admit, it sounds like bad luck central. And it all started yesterday, right after—” He trailed off, his gaze darting toward me meaningfully.


    I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, keeping my face carefully neutral. Inside, though, my thoughts churned. Of course, it was Jade’s meta nature bleeding into reality. Her emotions had destabilized the localized space in the lounge.


    The academy wouldn’t be able to fix it with some basic repairs or recalibration of the area. They’d need a high-level meta with spatial restoration abilities—someone who could literally reset the metaphysical properties of the space. And even then, it wouldn’t be easy. It might take days, weeks even, to stabilize the lounge fully. If they didn’t call in help soon, the whole area might remain semi-hostile to anyone who dared enter.


    “Come on,” Lore said, her tone dripping with suspicion. “You can’t tell me this has nothing to do with Jade. We all know how... her meta works.”


    “Yeah,” Gina chimed in, “if anyone’s meta nature could mess with a place like that, it’s hers.”


    I shrugged, feigning ignorance. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Maybe the lounge just needs better management.”


    Then Alex turned to me, “Jade? Is she okay?”


    “I don’t know,” I admitted with a slight frown, leaning back in my chair. “The last I saw her was outside the disciplinary office. She didn’t say much.”


    The group exchanged uncertain glances, their curiosity mingled with genuine concern for Jade’s well-being. Even Vinico, who rarely expressed any serious emotion, looked momentarily thoughtful.


    “She’s tough,” Lore finally said with a shrug. “If she’s upset, she’ll bounce back. But maybe we should check on her later, just in case.”


    I nodded, already planning to do so. Jade wasn’t one to let her emotions show easily, but I knew her well enough to see when something was bothering her. For now, I just needed to give her space.


    Gina shifted uncomfortably, breaking the silence. “Honestly, after hearing all this, I’m kind of glad I wasn’t involved in the mess. I wouldn’t survive a second in the disciplinary office. My parents would kill me.”


    “You mean your parents would kill the disciplinary officer for daring to punish their precious daughter,” Vinico quipped, earning a round of chuckles.


    “Maybe,” Gina said with a smirk, not entirely denying it.


    Shortly, the conversation naturally shifted away from Jade and me being pulled out of class, gravitating toward the topic of villain gangs. Each of us had taken the task of infiltrating a gang or villain group, collecting information, and potentially dismantling parts of their operations from within.


    “Has everybody finally picked which gangs they’re going to infiltrate?” Lore asked, taking the seat across my table.


    “I’ll be joining the Black Sun villain group,” Alex declared confidently. “They’re a medium-sized organization with about thirty or so members across different ranks. Their main activities are in the West District, where they control a lot of businesses. Most of it’s dirty—exploitation of young or homeless girls, running clubs, and prostitution rings.”


    The group nodded collectively. Alex’s choice was calculated, targeting a group with tangible influence but not so large that it would be impossible to navigate their structure. He clearly wasn’t afraid to dive into murky waters.


    “I’ll be targeting the Sinister Hands,” Gina announced next. “They’re involved in smuggling high-end tech and arms, operating under the radar in the North District. Their leader is someone with techno meta nature, which means they’ve got access to some serious tech-savvy members and technology.”


    When it was my turn, I straightened up slightly in my seat. “I’ll be going after the Tunnel Underground. They’ve been ramping up their criminal activities in my neighborhood lately—extortion, illegal substances, even some underground fighting rings. They’re smaller, but well-connected. Jade and I have been tracking their movements for the past two weeks.”


    I paused, glancing at the group. “I know it’s not conventional, but Jade and I will be working together on this one. With their growing network, it’s better to have two sets of eyes and hands.”


    Gina was the first to break it, her expression lighting up with approval. “No problem, no problem!” she said, her voice cheerful and encouraging. “Makes sense. It’s a very large villain group, spanning the entire city. It’s a smart move.”


    The others exchanged glances but soon nodded in agreement, following Gina’s lead.


    “Looks like everyone’s made their choices. However, don’t forget to ask for help if anyone gets stuck in some tough situation. After all, our lives are more important than winning a so-called game.” Lore leaned back in her chair with a faint smile.


    “Good luck, then.”