The gates of Aether Academy towered above the arriving convoy like a monument carved by the heavens themselves. Sharp crescents of silver and white spiraled upward, merging into floating prismatic structures that refracted sunlight into shimmering veils. Even after the devastation caused by Abyssal creatures, the academy looked untouched—too perfect, untouchable, as if the world's chaos dared not stain it.
Aether Academy wasn't a school.It was a citadel for the extraordinary.
A place built for the apex of humanity's potential.A place where the world's strongest youths sharpened themselves into weapons.A place meant… for monsters disguised as students.
And now—A place meant for them.
Bolt stepped off the transport shuttle first. The breeze brushed through his silver hair gently, almost reverently, as if acknowledging its master. Behind him, the members of Celestial Tempest followed—Kaori, Damian, Akane, Sylva, Valea, and the others—all carrying healing cuts, faded bruises, and exhaustion camouflaged under pride.
But overshadowing everything was awe.
Three enormous rings floated high above the central tower, rotating slowly. They hummed with such dense mana that Bolt felt the energy resonating against his lightning—like two storms recognizing each other.
Sprawling beneath those rings was a courtyard bustling with elite students—combat prodigies, mages, warborns, and specialists whose power radiated so intensely it made Bolt feel like he had stepped into another world.
A refined world.A ruthless one.A world where the strong sharpened their claws and the weak were devoured.
Kaori exhaled slowly, her eyes wide."So this is Aether Academy… the place only the top one percent ever get into."
Damian snorted softly."Yeah. And we got in because we accidentally started a mini-war with an Abyssal army."
Sylva elbowed him. "Not funny."
"Not wrong, though."
Bolt didn't join their banter.His mind still echoed with the final moment of Kairos—the artificial Warborn created solely to kill him,the Abyssal Monarch's puppet,the monster Bolt had been forced to put down.
Darian's death.The battlefield.That smile on the Abyssal Monarch's face across the collapsing plane…
It all weighed on him still.
Then a deep voice cut through the tension.
"Bolt. Celestial Tempest."
They turned.
A tall man with silver hair tied neatly behind his head approached with long, purposeful strides. His golden eyes shimmered like molten metal—steady, piercing, unblinking. His black-and-white uniform was lined with enchantments that thrummed faintly with power.
Headmaster Altair.
A myth.A warrior said to have fought S-class Warriors barehanded—and won.A man the High Council trusted enough to manage the strongest academy in existence.
He stopped before them and surveyed the group.
"Welcome to Aether Academy," he said. His voice was calm but carried through the courtyard like a commandment. "Your transfer was approved under urgent decree by the High Council."
Akane raised her hand timidly."Because of our… performance?"
Altair blinked once. "Performance. An interesting choice of word."
He clasped his hands behind his back.
"You were transferred because your previous academy does not possess the infrastructure required to contain your growth. Or, more plainly…"He looked at Bolt."If Bolt unleashes another 40% event, your former academy would cease to exist."
Damian nodded. "He's not wrong."
Bolt scratched the back of his head, cheeks warming."Uh… sorry?"
Altair leveled him with a stern gaze."Do not apologize for power. Strength is not a sin. It is a responsibility."
The headmaster turned and motioned for them to follow.
"As per your transfer documentation, there are three primary reasons for your relocation."
Every member of Celestial Tempest straightened instinctively.
"First," Altair said, "Aether Academy is the only training facility reinforced with celestial alloys and abyssal-resistant barriers. These grounds can withstand elemental outbursts strong enough to crack continents. You require this environment if you intend to survive your own growth."
Kaori nodded quietly."So this place won't break if we go all out."
"No," Altair replied. "But you might. Which is why you will train harder here than anywhere else."
Everyone swallowed.
"Second: Celestial Tempest is now officially classified as a Rising-Class Special Operations Squad. You are under direct academy supervision, with access to elite-tier support, training, and missions."
Damian smirked. "Finally, someone sees our greatness."
Sylva glared. "Please stop."
Altair continued.
"And third…"He stopped in front of a massive coliseum and turned.
His golden eyes locked directly onto Bolt.
"…forces are moving behind the scenes. The appearance—and subsequent elimination—of the Abyssal Warborn proves this."
Bolt stiffened.
"You have attracted attention, Bolt."Altair's tone lowered, becoming heavier."You have become… an individual of interest."
Akane shifted uneasily. "Interest… from who?"
"In time," Altair said, "you will understand. But know this—Aether Academy is the safest place for you now."
Bolt didn't answer.
Because something inside him stirred.
A pressure.A presence.A memory of the Monarch's predatory smile.
Safe?No.
Bolt felt watched.
AETHER'S ELITES
The moment they stepped into the coliseum, dozens of students paused mid-spar, mid-spell, mid-flight—turning toward them.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
"That's him."
"The lightning one."
"He beat Kairos."
"He killed the Abyssal Warborn."
"So he's one of the seven Warborn?"
"No—he killed another of the seven. Now there are six."
Akane tugged her hood lower."I hate attention."
"Get used to it," Damian said. "We're famous."
Then, a trio approached.
The first one—crimson hair in a tail, piercing eyes—carried the authority of someone used to standing above others.
He smiled politely.
"You must be Bolt. I am Leon Vandros, Student Council President of Aether Academy."
Kaori's jaw dropped."The Leon Vandros? The rumored second strongest student here—right under the head of the Disciplinary Committee!?"
Leon chuckled."Rumors exaggerate. I merely survived a duel I should have lost."
Behind him were:
Juno Lysandra — vice president, wrapped in swirling emerald wind sigils.Rhett Corvos — the silent enforcer, aura dense enough to crack the tiles beneath him.
Leon looked at Bolt.
"I watched your fight," he said simply. "And I'm glad."
Bolt blinked. "Glad?"
"Yes." Leon smiled wider."Because now, finally—there is someone in our generation who might actually challenge me."
Lightning crackled faintly across Bolt's skin.
Another monster.But a friendly-looking one.
Leon extended his hand.
"Welcome to Aether Academy. Don't disappoint me."
Bolt gripped it firmly.
"I won't."
Leon's eyes gleamed with excitement.
"Good."
A QUIET MOMENT BEFORE THE NEXT STORM
Their new dorms were massive—reinforced walls, advanced facilities, mana-activated doors, and enough space for each student to train individually.
Sylva hugged a pillow."This place is… too perfect."
Kaori nodded."Which means the training will be brutal."
Akane groaned."Please… not today."
Damian sprawled dramatically across the couch."Let us enjoy peace while it lasts."
Bolt stood on the balcony, staring over the illuminated campus.Training lights glowed.Platforms floated in the sky.Mana lines pulsed.Students sparred even at night.
Celestial Tempest had survived.They had reached the top.They had been acknowledged.
But Bolt's gaze drifted upward—to the darkness beyond the rings.
Because he felt it.
Something watching.Something waiting.
Far away, in a world devoured by darkness…
The Abyssal Monarch sat upon his throne.Eyes like endless voids.A smile sharp enough to cut worlds.
He leaned forward slowly.
Watching Bolt.
Claiming Bolt.
Bolt's fingers twitched, lightning flickering along them.
"Come then," he whispered.
"I'm not running."