ISABELLA NIGHTFALL'S POV:
"How strange, Isabella, where's the nerd in your friend group?" Our most annoying classmate, Benedict, whom everyone calls Ben, jeered. His lips curled into an evil smirk as he continued to mock her. "She is unusually late today," he sneered.
"I wish I knew," I sighed. Claire rarely comes this late. I wonder if something came up?
"Come on. Is she not coming to school——?" Before he could finish, Sophie walked up behind him and chopped his head with her hand.
"Owww! That hurts!!" Ben clutched his head as he groaned in agony. "What was that for?"
"She will come when she does." Sophie's voice was icy cold.
From the classroom, I could hear gasps erupting from the corridor clearly. I wonder what is causing such a big fuss. The gasps sounded genuinely shocked. Perhaps someone new is coming today?
Just then, someone pushed open the door of 5-B.
As she stepped inside, conversations stopped mid-sentence, chairs froze mid-scrape against the floor, and even the rhythmic tapping of pencils seemed to falter. A desk, which someone had dragged halfway across the room, remained crooked and forgotten. All eyes turned toward her—toward the doorway—toward Claire.
But not the Claire they were used to.
Her hair was no longer tied back in that modest, practical, low band. It fell freely now, soft chestnut waves resting over her shoulders and catching the sunlight that streamed through the classroom windows. Without her glasses, her features were no longer softened by reflection or hidden behind frames. Her grey-blue eyes were fully visible—clear, sharp, and impossibly striking under the morning light.
She didn't walk differently.
That was the strange part.
Her posture had always been straight. Her steps had always been neat and controlled. But now, with nothing concealing her, that natural composure looked intentional. Powerful. Each step toward her seat felt measured, unhurried, as if she were completely unaware of the ripple effect she had just caused.
Someone near the back dropped their pen.
A whisper broke the silence.
"Is that... Claire?"
"No way."
"What happened to her glasses?"
Sophie, sitting beside me, gripped my arm so hard I nearly yelped. "She looks like she transferred from a private academy drama," she whispered fiercely.
Claire walked up to Sophie and me and smiled, "Good morning," She looked away slightly while tucking in a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Eh? EHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Sophie and I gasped in pure shock. Her looks alone have already surpassed Sophie's. Just how long will it take for her to surpass me!!! Oh noooooo!!
But as a good friend, I am happy for you, Claire. You are no longer hiding in the shadows, hiding behind those fake glasses of yours just to look sophisticated.
Don't think that I don't notice things. I do. If I don't, how will I kill the ones who murdered my parents? The ones who were always there for me, sacrificing their lives for me. Mama and Papa were especially sensitive about Celestara. That means they were here. I need to become a big star to get more information. More information on Project Atlas.
One day, I will find them. And when I do...
I will kill them.
ALISTAIR NIGHTFALL'S POV:
So far, I have made no progress with Project Atlas. It was a project nobody had heard before, not even Matron.
"Eh? Project Atlas? I've never heard of that before." Matron sounded bewildered. "But I'll help you look into this matter."
"Thank you, I will take my leave now." I took a slight bow.
That night, I arrived home late again. Ella and Kaori snuggled up on my bed, fast asleep. It was a wholesome scene. But after today, I couldn't bring myself to smile at them.
I coldly closed the door, walked to the living room, and turned on the TV.
"...authorities located a body behind where the Royal Ball took place. Six weeks later, authorities identified the body as Lord Hastings's, estimating that someone had murdered him two months prior. Unfortunately, investigators found no fingerprints or other evidence, except for four cards. Below the Ace of Spades, it reads, 'Finality'. The King of Hearts writes 'Destruction'. The Queen of Diamonds writes 'Judgement'. And the Jack of Clubs writes 'Deception'. Behind each card is an image of an eclipse, and below are the words 'The Black Eclipse' and 'The Eclipse Sovereign'. Who really are they, and who is their next target? The authorities are now investigating the scene..."
Ah, so they finally found out...six weeks later. To be honest, I'm quite disappointed in the authorities. Or...to find the body of a well-known noble this late...are they turning a blind eye? It could be possible, considering the evil deeds of this man, maybe the King himself anticipated this...
If the King is really this intelligent...we need to watch out on our next mission...
"Morning, Brother," Ella yawned.
"Morning," I said. I then opened the door and left.
How could Matron not know about Project Atlas? Why does everyone not know about them?! I disobeyed you, Mom, Dad, and came to Celestara, so why do the answers not lie here!!
Just then, someone tugged at my sleeve. Before I could turn, someone pulled me into a dark alley.
"Shhh," she covered my mouth. Ah, it was Matron, but I still kept my guard up. "I found a few things about Project Atlas," Matron whispered. "It was a project supposedly 'abandoned' a few years ago, but judging from your uncle's tragedy, I think not." Yes, indeed, I had told her earlier yesterday that my uncle's family had died in the hands of Project Atlas to gain more information. "A few years ago, our guild received an assignment to investigate them. But they vanished soon after we received the assignment." She said slowly. "Based on the information I have gathered, this mission was assigned well before my arrival. And..." Her voice trailed off.
"And...?" I asked.
"I'm not sure whether you might want to hear this. It might change your perspective on your uncle."
Change my perspective on my parents? It will not happen unless they are involved with Project Atlas.
"Say it," I said firmly.
Matron took a deep breath and said, "Authorities charged Project Atlas with illegal child experiments."
The words settled between us — heavy, suffocating — but it was the unspoken implication that crushed me.
Project Atlas.
The place my parents had entrusted me to.
No.
Not entrusted.
Given.
For a moment, my mind refused to follow the line of logic to its inevitable conclusion. It stalled, blank and defensive, like a door slamming shut before something unbearable could step through.
Illegal child experiments.
And I was there.
I was one of them.
My chest tightened so sharply I thought my ribs might crack from the pressure. Air went in, but it didn't feel like oxygen. It burned. My vision didn't blur — it narrowed. The alley's sounds faded into a distant hum, making it seem like I'd been submerged underwater.
They wouldn't.
My parents wouldn't.
They were gentle. My mother used to brush my hair back from my forehead when I fell asleep on the couch. My father would lower his voice whenever I entered a room, as if afraid of disturbing me. They smiled softly. They were warm. They were kind.
Why would people like that hand their child to Project Atlas?
The thought slipped in anyway, venomous and quiet.
Because they believed it was necessary.
My stomach twisted so violently I had to lock my knees to keep from swaying.
They wouldn't let anything bad happen to you.
My hands were shaking.
I clasped them behind my back before anyone could see, fingers digging into each other so hard the pain pulsed up my arms. My nails bit off skin. The sting anchored me. If I focused on that, I wouldn't focus on the image forming in my mind — my parents signing documents. Nodding calmly. Trusting the wrong people.
Or worse.
Knowing.
"No," I heard myself whisper, but it came out steadier than I felt. Not denial. Just a breath.
I straightened slowly, forcing my spine rigid, forcing my expression into something neutral. Thoughtful. Controlled. I couldn't afford to look shaken. If I cracked now, if I let the hysteria surface, I wouldn't be able to put it back.
Inside, I was screaming.
Why?
Why would you give me to them?
Was I sick? Broken? Not enough on my own? Did you think I wouldn't survive without being... altered?
Or did you truly believe they wouldn't hurt me?
That possibility hurt the most.
That they trusted Project Atlas.
That they believed it was safe.
Because that meant they didn't know.
And if they didn't know... then they never came to save me.
My throat closed painfully around that thought.
I forced myself to breathe through my nose, slow and measured, just like my father taught me when I was younger. Inhale for four. Hold. Exhale.
Control the body. Control the mind.
On the outside, I lifted my gaze to meet Matron's.
Calm.
Unmoved.
"Are they certain about the charges?" I asked evenly.
My voice did not tremble.
It did not break.
But inside, a child was crying — not because of the experiments, not even because of the pain —
But because the warm hands that once held mine had been the same hands that let me go.
"Yes. But I can't show you any longer. They burned the files." Matron lowered her head, as if the ashes still lingered in her hands.
Burned.
So there was proof.
And now there wasn't.
"Why?"
The word pressed against my throat, desperate to be released. Three letters. So small. So simple.
Why did you agree?
Why did you let them touch me?
But the question dissolved before it could escape.
They weren't here.
There would be no explanations. No trembling confessions. No chance to look into their eyes and see whether they had been naïve, desperate, or simply wrong.
The only answer left was an explanation of silence.
And somehow, that hurt more than the truth ever could.
"Go get some rest, Finality." She patted my back. "You'll need it for tomorrow's mission."
"Yes, Matron."
A dark look stretched across my face.
"Maybe they weren't the people I thought they were," I thought silently in the pouring rain. "Maybe, they died for good." My thoughts were colder than I expected.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Brother, you're back?" Ella asked. It wasn't even past 3.00 p.m., and I was back.
"..."
"You're drenched, Ace." Kaori draped a warm towel over my shoulders.
"..." I said nothing and headed to my room.
"Is he okay?" Ella asked Kaori. Kaori glanced at my retreating figure and answered, "Maybe not."
How could they?
How could they do that to me?
Or maybe us?
Who knows?
I wasn't around when Ella was born. She could have been part of the experiment, too. Matron had also added later that those children who had failed the ritual would disintegrate into elemental ash. Gone.
Maybe, behind every kind smile they wore, was an evil person, observing my every move, and my every growth.
"Too many 'maybes'," I mumbled as I sat on my bed, water dripping into the sheets of my bed.
"There's no use thinking about this," I muttered, curling up into a ball. Well, I guess I am free now. There is no need for revenge.
Knock. Knock.
"Brother, can I come in?"
"..."
She pushed open the door anyway and sat next to me. "Brother, are you okay? You seem down today." She pulled me into a small hug.
"..."
"If this is about Mama and Papa, I can understand——"
"No, you don't understand," I cut her off, clenching my fists. "Brother? What do you mean——?" She tried to laugh it off.
"Papa and Mama aren't who we think they are," I laughed. A cruel laugh.
"Haha, what do you mean?" Ella brushed it off.
"I mean exactly what I mean, Isabella," She froze. This was the first time I had called her by her name, not her nickname at home.
I looked her in the eye and said it.
"They were involved with child experimentation."