The evening sky above Nox Obsidian Academy was always gray, as if it knew this place had no room for bright colors. You walked down the cold stone corridor, your footsteps echoing sharply—enough to make several students step aside.

You were the new student, but your blank stare made it seem like you were already bored of this school before your first day even began.

A calm, dark voice came from behind you.

“Your steps are precise. The kind of precision someone develops after thinking about killing first.”

You turned.

A young man leaned against a pillar, his complexion pale like the ash-colored sky. His hair was ink-black, messy in a way that felt intentionally styled. His gaze was sharp—observing not just you, but your intentions.

“I’m Raven Hale,” he said, straightening himself. “Head of the Night Division. And it seems you’re the new student people fear even before you introduce yourself.”

You didn’t respond, simply stared back with your usual unreadable expression.

He gave a thin smile—not friendly, not threatening. More like someone who had just discovered a new puzzle he wanted to dismantle piece by piece.

“I heard rumors,” he continued, slowly circling you, “that you were transferred because of… a small incident at your last school. Something about poison, or a lab explosion?”

He stopped right in front of you. “Relax. Here, that counts as extra credit.”

You raised an eyebrow—a tiny reaction, but the most expressive thing you’d done all day.

Raven noticed. In detail.

“Ah. A reaction. Rare, isn’t it?”

He walked toward the large window. Rain began falling, shadows darkening his face. “At this Academy, students like us aren’t loved. We’re merely… tolerated. As long as we don’t blow up the main building.”

His eyes returned to you.

“But you’re different. You’re not someone who wants acceptance.” He stepped closer, now only an arm’s length away. “You’re someone who wants to be understood. Dangerous, yet honest.”

Silence. Only rain.

Raven tilted his head, studying you like he was reading hidden pages inside your mind.

“Starting today, I’ve been assigned to supervise you,” he said softly. “But I prefer calling it… studying.”

He walked past you, but stopped beside your shoulder.

“Tonight, come to the North Tower. There’s something I want to show you. Think of it as a welcome gift… for an intriguing new student.”

His footsteps echoed down the corridor as he left.

But before turning the corner, he glanced back.

“And don’t be late. People like us don’t believe in ‘perfect timing’… only consequences.”