”LET ME GO—NOW!” Yelled FF-Class ’Data Analyst’ Katrina Welf, her icy eyes narrowing as they locked onto the man blocking her path.
”Aaaaaah, for the last time, Miss Welf, this bunker is reserved for VIPs only—Class S, Class A, nobles and politicians’ sons like you, etc. So, I’m not allowed to let any dirty plebeians waste vital space in here,” SS-Class ’Sinful Blade’ Verdan Anhogi explained, his tone exuding irritation because, despite having repeated himself a dozen times already, the heated ice cube in front of him had yet to melt.
”Cammy and Shira are wonderful and incredible girls, far better than most of the human trash that got thrown into this bunker—don’t you dare label them in any way!”
Anhogi grimaced at her words. ”Oh, wait a moment…just the girls? What about Jacques and your other classmates?” He asked, genuinely perplexed.
In response, Katrina simply raised her chin and crossed her arms. ”Well, we can’t save everyone, anyway.”
The Miraval Institute of Magic and Technology expanded itself across several subterranean levels beneath Miraval City, and with the Korinthian Fleet now encircling it, the facility had become the safest refuge to protect the future of the Holy Rolandish Empire. Hundreds of students were now locked in vaults built decades ago as quarantine zones, meant to contain leaks from the ’MIMT’s’ most funny experiments, and, ironically, they now proved just as effective for a siege. That being said, the interiors had never been renovated in eighty years, and the Empire’s youth were left to pass the time with dusty books and board games.
Just as in Miraval Academy, the students were separated by year, but even within the VIPs a hierarchy persisted, with some individuals being more important than others. Thus, the crème de la crème of first-year scions were confined within one of the most secure and structurally unassailable chambers.
There, S-Class ’Dust Symphonist’ Ælfgifu Rougedior sat next to the Hydro, listening to replicas of Princess Cassandra while dozens of young men knelt before her, each offering the fortunes and soldiers of their fathers in aid of her homeland in exchange for even the faintest hope of winning her hand.
In stark contrast, FFF-Class ’Clown’ Connor MacMalley sat alone in the far corner beside the cast-iron chimney, his eagle eyes buried in a Photonic Book, trying not to hear the subtle laughter at the bandages over his nose, but, above all, not to think or look at the ’Toxic Parasite’ that had consumed his heart.
*KLANG!* *KLANG!* *KLANG!*
“GET OUT—NOW! I’ve got my needs too, and there’s only one bathroom for all of us!” Roared SS-Class ’Shining Star’ Astary von Sternenstaub, her fists striking against the tungsten door that separated the room’s living room from the bath.
“You know I need three baths a day, wholly immersed in Ambrosia, for my skin cancer treatment,” casually replied SS-Class ’Time Samurai’ Tsuki Hakka. After soaking for more than an hour in almond milk, not even her nemesis’s furious shrieks could shake the Moon Princess of Joseong from her bliss. “Just be a little patient.”
“YOU LIAR!!!” Astary’s skin flared with a thousand hot hues before stabilizing into a crimson glow that lit the golden-haired Prince seated on a table submerged by sheets of paper, his hands stained in black ink. “Chad, tell her to get out!”
After a long gasp of exhaustion, SSS-Class ’Hero’ Chad Rolandsson raised his head. “Astary, please, may I ask you to trouble me with your childish quarrels after I finish writing this chapter?” As scion of the Holy Rolandish Empire and the long-prophesied Hero, free time was a rare and valuable thing for the Prince. Hence, he had refused to waste his bunker days, deciding to do what any ambitious politician does when he goes to prison—writing an autobiography. “Now, Anicet, do you remember where and when we had our first due—ACK!” A golden arrow smashed into his forehead, propelling him backwards directly into the cast-iron fireplace.
“Don’t look at me like that, Mr. Cosmatern…” Astary theatrically snapped her fingers in the direction of the now-broken chimney. “A lady ought to be the priority of any Knight worthy of his title—am I wrong?” SS-Class ’Nostalgic Reactionary’ Anicet Cosmatern hesitated, then gave an awkward nod—after imagining himself in Chad’s place, he somehow agreed with her words.
“ARE YOU MAD!?” The Prince rose to his feet, swiping soot from his face only to replace the gray of ash with the red of rage. “That’s it! I should’ve ended this years ago, but I let petty feelings hold me back. Now you’ve gone too far!” He raised his fist like a judge with his hammer before a sentence. “Between us—it’s officially OVER!” His words thundered throughout the chamber, shattering the audience’s expression like windows in a storm.
Behind the bathroom door, Tsuki’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. At the table, Anicet pinched his cheek, trying to wake up from his dream. And Ælfgifu turned off the Hydro, the three scars on her porcelain skin glowing yellow—if she knew Astary as well as she believed, her old nemesis was unawarely going to do her a huge favor.
“Oh, really? Wonderful. Now I can find a man whose ego isn’t as fragile and inflated as a clown’s balloon.” She sneered. ”Just one question—one day, when you become our Emperor, will you also scream at your future subjects when they ask for your help as I did? If so, what a grim future awaits the Empire.”
The ’Hero’ refused to take the bait, answering with a shrug. “Don’t worry. Without you at my side, I’ll be so relaxed I could pardon Heroine Korinna herself.”
A crack formed on Astary’s polished mask. “Good. At least history won’t chain my name to such a failure of a man.”
“I’ll be the greatest Emperor since Hero Roland, and you know it!”
“A man who can’t even give his wife what she wants is going to what?”
“PEOPLE OUTSIDE—MY SUBJECTS—ARE DYING!” Chad roared, his voice shaking the rafters. “DO YOU REALLY THINK I GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOUR BRATTY NEEDS RIGHT NOW?!”
Astary’s light burned hot, her tone higher than ever. “ARE YOU TELLING ME THE WORTHLESS LIVES OF FILTHY PLEBEIANS ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN MY CRAVINGS?!”
“YES, FOR THE LOVE OF ADAM—YEEEESSSS!”
“If you really believe that—the door’s right there, Mr. Hero. Go on, beat the old man up and run off to save your subjects.”
“Experts, more prepared than I am, have already drafted a careful plan to save the city while minimizing casualties. Any childish action of mine won’t help at all—no one can win a war alone.”
“Oh, but isn’t that the whole point of being a hero?”
“Oh, c’mon. What am I supposed to do, board the Korinthian juggernaut, and somehow find a way to destroy it? Do you think the Demmies are going to welcome me with the highest honor?” In response, Astary’s light flared in the brightest gold.
“A true hero would find a way to save us all.”
For an everlasting moment, the entire world froze for the ‘Hero,’ his gorgeous diamond eyes on the verge of cracking.
“STOP, FOR THE LOVE OF ADAM, SHUT UP!” The wrinkles on Mr. Anhogi’s face exacerbated as he summoned his flying knives to keep the two apart. ”How long are you two going to keep making my work a fucking hell!”
“As long as it takes to take back my basic human right that glutton pig in the bathroom has been denying me for more than an hour.” The ’Shining Star’ stroked her index finger across the violet edge of one of his daggers. “Aren’t you the law here? Then—DO YOUR DAMN JOB AND FORCE THE RAT OUT!”
“Shut up, Asty. You know Tsuki’s doing it for her health.” Chad shot back just as the ’Sinful Blade’ showed her a document signed by Md. Miraval, proving her treatment was legitimate.
“A solution might very well be using the gym’s bathrooms like everyone else, instead of shattering my eardrums with that unbearable, high-pitched shriek of you—” However, before the professor finished, dozens of noble ladies rose from their seats, joining the Starfolk lady in venting their frustrations for the unhygienic conditions of that alternative. “Oh, c’mon, those toilets look like luxury suits compared to the ones I had back when I was a cadet.” Nevertheless, their chorus grew louder and louder, easily drowning out Mr. Anhogi’s protests, and cornered, Mr. Anhogi had no choice but to compromise—exactly as Astary had planned. “Look, the nerds in these underground labs have some anti-radiation showers, all sanitized like a test tube. I can try to get you access, but in exchange—STOP, PLEASE, STOP TALKING!”
Having succeeded beyond her most hopeful expectations, the ’Shining Star' beamed—in both meanings—while her boyfriend stared at her in disbelief, struggling to swallow the mix of rage and shame of realizing he had just been played like a little dog.
“Good. Now, if you want to accompany me, Miss Von Sternenstaub…you know…I’m not going to explain to the Miraval scientists about you—”
*KaaaaaaaBOOOOOOOOOOOM!*
Suddenly, an explosion was heard from below their feet, darkening the atmosphere at the thought of who could be behind it.
“STAY HERE AND DON’T MOVE FOR ANY REASON!” Roared Mr. Anhogi. Then, without uttering a word, he, Anicet, and Chad exchanged a nod before rushing to the floor beneath.
The Containment Bunker Gamma provided the infected with the most essential needs during their quarantine, including a gym to prevent muscle loss during such a long period of enforced inactivity. It was located at the very bottom of the structure, exactly where the three had gone. However, when they broke into the room, they did not find the Korinthian army, but a surreal scene—shrouded by the flames that lit the background, a girl who had fallen from her wheelchair was gripping the neck of a larger man, choking him with her still fragile and trembling arms.
“TELL ME THE TRUTH, MIKHAIL—NOW! I WON’T LET YOU GO UNTIL YOU TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU!” Bellowed S-Class ’Fullmetal Maiden’ Bradamanthe Rolandsson, her diamond eyes burning with unquenchable hatred and drowning in ceaseless tears.
“Thea, what are you doing?!” Swiftly, Anicet and Chad rushed in, seizing each of her arms and yanking her away from the terrified student as she struggled to free herself while screaming with all the strength left in her body.
“You made the Princess of your Empire cry? You’ve got big pair balls, I’ll give you that.” Mr. Anhogi let out a faint chuckle as he extended a hand to S-Class ’4th-Wall Breaker’ Mikhail Yazov. “You know, I trained and fought alongside your father. So I’ll give you this piece of advice—don’t make a woman cry, NEVER AGAIN! There is no greater sin for a true man.” With a powerful yank, the professor pulled him to his feet, although he was caught off guard to find that the boy’s body already surpassed his own in both height and size. Yet, when his eyes met Mikhail’s emerald ones, all he could see was the most fragile of men.
“WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THIS?!” Restrained tightly by the two Class S, the ’Fullmetal’ Maiden could only scream her anguish. “Where is the old Mikhail…”
The two of them had a long history. It began nine years ago, when Mikhail’s father—elevated to Minister of War during Afledt Von Sternenstaub’s first term thanks to his triumphs in battle during the Fall of Bloodmarch—was granted a house in the Twilight Madness. There, Mikhail immediately grew fond of a girl with a taste for blood like Bradamanthe’s, spending countless hours together in duels and training and sharpening each other’s steel and spirit alike. Hence, the Princess of the Holy Rolandish Empire could have accepted the thought of Mikhail’s death on the battlefield, but not him being a coward—her screams were prayers to the Holy Trinity for her old rival resurrection.
”Please…just this time…” Mr. Anhogi grimaced as he heard a couple of faint whispers escaping the trembling student’s lips, although only fragments reached his ear. ”I’ve no…time to waste…with you all—GOODBYE!” Mikhail stormed out while backgrounded by Bradamanthe’s screams and followed by the narrow eyes of the ’Sinful Blade.’
Very interesting. It seems he really does love talking to Himself…
Verdan smirked in order to mask the pity that crept into his thoughts about the young man’s future.
Not that it matters, anyway. Class Assignments are a roulette wheel that randomly engraves our destiny onto our very souls—there is no God, only Chaos…sweet, sweet chaos…
“Professor…could you…” Chad’s broken voice snapped him back to reality, and with just one glance at the sight of his weeping sister, Verdan understood that they deserved a moment alone.
With a slow and heavy stride, he left the room and entered a narrow corridor where the professor leaned against the cold steel wall, sparking a cigarette to life—the sour smoke clouding the already stagnant air. “Aaaaah…maybe babysitting wasn’t the best job to be assigned during a war,” he muttered as flashbacks of the last conflict looped through his mind—faces, screams, and blood—theorizing that the reason he had been benched this time was because the important dudes needed to know first what new horrors beyong human comprehension the Korinthian scientists had pulled from their pit of imagination for the special occasion.
*KLANGK!* *KLANGK!* *KLANGK!*
The cadence of footsteps over the metalling floor shattered his brief moment of quiet. Verdan straightened, expecting to see Chad or Anicet showing up from the corner. Instead, an unexpected figure emerged from the dim glow of the bunker Magicbuls at the opposite side of the corridor.
“The Clown?”
