Academy is in heaven. Huge columns, murmur of fountains, green vine curling around architecture, harp melody, wine - secretly - and grapes.

Ghost sat near the water, calming him with its murmur. A rotten flower was squeezed in his hands, killed by his own hands. Tom is the son of Hades, the heir to the kingdom of the dead and death itself. The best of the best in the academy.

Brown eyes, visible from under the mask, looked indifferently in front of them, radiating cold.