They were warned of the battle by the sounds of gunfire.

Christina crept forward, on her knees, her spellbook closed and pressed to her chest. Desmond followed her lead. If she wanted to start this, then so be it. She wasn't as durable as he was, after all, it was understandable that she would want to be more cautious.

Because she literally could not be as reckless as he was. Not without throwing herself into certain death.

Besides, even he, with all the advantages he had, had ambushed the soldiers instead of attacking head-on more than once.

Four soldiers, one student.

Only one left. However, there were plenty of corpses lying around. Although the student was managing to defend himself, he would soon join the rest of his classmates in death. Even if he hadn't seen them until today, even if he hadn't even spoken to them....

This would be his eternal resting place, and that of the other boys and girls.

The spell turned the corpse of one of the fallen applicants into a puppet, for there was no Azure corpse nearby.

He understood the logic, but still felt deeply uncomfortable at the terrible spectacle, like a dead man rising from the grave.

With a false life and the bloodlust of its master.

Christina made him run towards those soldiers. The corpse moved just like a real puppet. That is, in an unnatural, erratic way. It was now nothing more than a "thing" pulled by strings, after all.

The soldiers noticed, of course. The living corpse couldn't have crept up on them, even if that had been its mistress's intention.

"Is he alive?"

"Impossible! The bullet hit him in the heart."

They opened fire.

They filled with lead, with bullet holes, a body in which there was no longer a soul. The corpse didn't stop running. It had no functions necessary for a human being, after all. Like the ability to feel pain.

And, apparently, the spell was not so inconvenient as to connect the body to the caster, transmitting to the caster the pain it would have felt had it been alive.

The boy, instead of thanking his lucky stars and running out of there as any reasonable person would have done, especially when his rescuer was an undead, wasted the moment by attacking.

He created a whirlwind underneath one of the four remaining soldiers, lifting him into the air.

Desmond stood up, ready to intervene. He ought to be quick enough to get there before something irreversible happened.

However, he wasn't.

He was halfway there when it happened.

The boy smashed the soldier with the whirlwind, tightening it, turning it into something akin to a rock drill.

He was subsequently shot in the head, which exploded as did the entire body of the enemy he had just killed.

The reanimated corpse of the student finally arrived with the soldiers, and there was a third explosion that took them all out.

By which he didn't mean it killed them immediately, however.

Because it was an explosion of darkness that went through their mouths, through their nostrils, even though their eyes. And that's how they died. Drowned in darkness, quite literally. A clean death, yes, but at the same time slow, painful and horrible.

Was this part of shadow magic? Well, evidently, since Christina had just used it in front of his eyes.

But this use made the discipline broader and more esoteric than one would think from the name alone. Really. The darkness of that explosion, where had it come from? It had clearly not been a shadow.

Anyway. The point was that she had given him a perfect demonstration of her power.

He wasn't going to complain because she had turned out to be even more powerful than he had thought.

If there was anything to complain about, it was that, powerful as they were, they hadn't even been able to save the aspirant who had still been alive when they had arrived, fighting desperately, even though all his other companions had fallen around him.

He hadn't given up out of desperation. He had fought on, but he hadn't been rewarded for his efforts.

Desmond approached the corpse, looked at it closely.

He didn't like that kind of ending.

He didn't like that, once again, the world had shown him that he couldn't change anything. He put a hand to his head, squeezed hard, shaking from the force he was exerting.

He had to stay calm. He had to stay focused.

If he lost control of the energy that was churning inside him, the thing that made him strong, the thing that had allowed him to come this far, it would destroy him.

So calm down. Fuck.

What's done is done, after all. As much as I regret it... I can't raise the dead or change the past.

Christina stood next to him.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked impassively.

His first thought was not to say anything, because what was that going to solve, but he changed his mind without being sure why. Maybe because he needed to say it, even if it wasn't the right time.

"I could have saved him if I'd intervened instead of standing here and watching you do it. "

"Maybe," she said, nodding, matter-of-factly. "Or maybe you'd just gotten him killed earlier."

Her words were harsh, but accurate.

"Maybe." And that was that. There was nothing more to say, as far as he was concerned.

■

Without encountering another obstacle along the way, they arrived near the academy. He would have taken a detour to continue the slaughter... and look for other survivors, of course, that too. That too. But he saw something that caught his attention.

Soldiers of the Azure Empire trying to reach the academy.

What was stopping them, even though there wasn't a single person on the way? Those from The Four Seasons had littered the road, not just the forest, with deadly traps. But these were only magical, as far as I could see.

It was not difficult to construct the magical traps so that they would only activate against the Empire's soldiers. They were, after all, a nation that had been abandoned by the gods, that had lost their blessings, but had survived, had continued to grow, building tools to replicate what they could.

What set them apart, the fruit of all the wars between them, was the key by which they could ensure that the traps would only be triggered by the passage of magic-less bastards.

All the people of Albion, without exception, possessed the gift of magic, even if they had not trained it and couldn't cast the slightest spell. So there was no risk that, for example, the janitor would suffer the same fate as the soldiers he was watching die in front of his eyes through carelessness.

That wouldn't last forever, of course.

It was only a matter of time before the traps ran out, that even before some would reach the gates of the academy, besieging it.

The number of soldiers was greater than expected.

Dozens and dozens. Countless.

How had they managed to mobilize so many soldiers, so much equipment, without them realizing it?

How had they managed to start today's tragedy with a surprise attack?

It doesn't make sense.

There's no way we could be so clumsy, so careless, as to allow this to happen... And yet...

"You're not thinking of doing something crazy, are you?"

Desmond shook his head at Christina's question, who had crouched down beside him.

"Even I'm not that crazy."

"Well, let's get on with it. We don't make a bad team."

"But what are you saying? We literally haven't fought together once."

"But I've seen the results of your work. Very good work. That's good enough for me. Anyway, this can work, is what I mean. So come on."

She grabbed his arm and pulled him along.

Strangely insistent, she didn't need to do such a thing. But then again, she was a strange girl. He'd lose if he spent all his time wondering why she did what she did.

Yes, he was going to go without complaint. He hadn't any reason to protest because it was the same thing he was doing. Being strangely insistent.

But then...

Then it appeared.

Spreading out from the ground, what he had at first mistaken for a vehicle, until it reached its true height. A giant that could tear the forest apart, killing all the people still inside, just by taking a walk.

A giant that was almost as tall as the towers of the academy. And in the shape of a spider.

The signature weapon of the Azure Empire.

Its trump card.

The same monster that had torn his hometown apart, that had shattered his past, everything that had once been dear to him. Leaving nothing. Nothing.

He gritted his teeth. They chattered, but the tremors didn't spread throughout his body.

He was about to explode.

Crash and burn until he was completely consumed. That 'nothing' that was all that was left, even.

And it exploded.

He went into a spasmodic shudder, his legs failing him, falling to his knees. The only thing that kept him from falling head first on the floor was that he was clutching Christina's arm. That was all.

He had trained so hard, shed so much blood... to end up in the same place he had ten years ago.

Like ten years ago, he was nothing more than a scared little boy.

Defenseless.

Mom. Mom, please, he thought incoherently. But he wasn't thinking of the woman whose face and voice he had already forgotten, but of the woman who saved him that day. Praying that she would appear and save him, just as she had then.

He felt like throwing up. His stomach was turning.

Christina looked at him wordlessly, her expression grim.

There was nothing and no one who could save him now. He couldn't depend on his savior.

Except himself.

That's right.

He had to take control of his destiny into his own hands.

With that purpose in mind, he ran towards the assembled soldiers. Towards the mechanical spider that advanced slowly but inexorably, despite the traps in its path, that slowed it down, that pushed it backwards, that left sooty marches on its metal skin.

He ran towards his own death, a certain death.

But before he breathed his last breath, he would kill as many motherfuckers as he could.

He would strike down the spider, and burn the Empire with the blue flames of his evil heart.

It would be an end without reward, but the circle would be closed. That would have to be enough.

Christina didn't abandon him, but she didn't help him either.

She stood in his way, running after him, grabbing him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"What are you doing?"

"That's my line!"

He struggled with all his might, but it was no use. Not just because he was on the verge of exhaustion, which he was, but because he was competing with the combined strength of Christina and her shadow. A fight he couldn't win.

And, as he expected, he lost it.

She propelled them up into the air. With the shadows, of course. As if they were a springboard.

There was the sound of exploding glass.

The soldiers had been aware of his presence, of course, he had been this close to setting foot in the trap zone. And he saw the bullets pass dangerously close as they flew through the air.

They rolled across the floor between the broken glass until they came to a stop, she ended up on top of him, straddling him. Red-faced, with a fresh cut on her cheek and the spellbook clutched in a trembling fist.

She looked into his eyes.

Her light violet eyes were enchanting. Almost hypnotic. Not the first time he noticed them, but this time the feeling was more intense.

They were finally inside the academy, but the battle wasn't over.

And, judging by her expression, the first battle to be fought would be against this girl who had saved him from committing suicide.