"He who has the courage to face his fears holds the power to change his destiny."........ Friedrich Nietzsche
After the battle I fought in the presentation hall, the sound of my heartbeat became an internal echo, reminding me that peace here was nothing more than an illusion.
Every step in the academy turned into a game of life or death, and every movement carried either danger… or opportunity.
After dinner, the supervisor escorted us to the dormitory building, his steps steady, his voice limited only to the necessary instructions.
The building was tall, its façade made of polished stone, with large windows reflecting the moonlight, making it resemble a modern, imposing fortress. I felt as if anyone who crossed this entrance stepped into a world where mistakes were unforgivable.
At the entrance stood another supervisor, his face expressionless, unreadable, holding a set of smart plastic cards. Each one contained a small electronic chip, with the room number engraved with precise, permanent craftsmanship.
Every student received their card, and I received mine as well. I felt its weight in my hand… as if it weren't just a room key, but a key to a world of tests and choices I would soon be forced to face.
I entered my room and closed the door softly behind me, only to be greeted by a scene far beyond what I expected.
The bed was wide, covered with ivory-colored sheets so soft that sleeping on them felt like a real promise of comfort amidst the academy's chaos.
The walls were painted in calm, soothing tones—a blend of warm blue and pure white—instilling a sense of serenity, as if the room itself invited me to rest despite everything happening outside.
Beside the bed stood a large wardrobe made of luxurious mahogany, polished with great care, carrying the faint scent of aged wood. Its metal handles were heavy, and its simple engravings hinted at refined taste reserved only for the elite.
It wasn't just a place to store clothes, no, it was a message: here, comfort is calculated. Everything is calculated.
I sat on the edge of the bed, closed my eyes for a moment, and began thinking.
The academy would never offer this level of luxury without reason… everything was deliberate: the rooms, the smart keys, the monitored hallways, even the colors and the scents.
This wasn't just a school… it was an experimental ground where minds and spirits were tested before bodies.
I recalled the events of the day, Michelle, Lila, Isaac, each one a piece in a much bigger picture.
I began arranging thoughts in my mind: possible alliances, potential betrayals, strengths, weaknesses.
Everything was a strategic map before it was a series of random events.
As time passed, drowsiness crept in despite my usual alertness. My thoughts didn't stop, but they gradually dissolved into the map of the academy, into the students, into the dangers, into all the possible outcomes.
My head tilted slightly. I surrendered to the pull of the bed and finally closed my eyes.
I slept… yet my mind never rested. It stayed awake, planning, observing, calculating every step ahead.
Because here, in the Academy of Kings and Queens, survival belongs to those who move their minds before they move their bodies.
I woke to the sound of my room's clock at five in the morning, feeling a deep sense of comfort the moment I opened my eyes—perhaps because of the luxurious bed and silky sheets that restored my energy after a long day, soothing my exhausted mind with a rare sense of peace inside the academy.
I jumped out of bed quickly, wore my training clothes, and headed to the open courtyard.
I began my morning run, my footsteps echoing rhythmically against the ground, then moved to push-ups, then squats—every movement calculated, every breath controlled, as if my body were a precision machine guided by a trained mind.
While I was immersed in my workout, I saw her for the first time.
A very beautiful girl—elegant, graceful in every motion. Her long, silky blonde hair was tied in a ponytail that flowed down her back. Her skin was pale as snow, with a small mole under her right cheek adding a touch of uniqueness.
Her cheeks were slightly flushed from planking; her eyes, a clear sky blue; and her lips, a deep crimson—like blood—radiating beauty and strength at the same time.
I didn't speak to her. Not a word.
I had learned a harsh lesson two years ago: I would never again allow my emotions to control me, no matter how strong they were.
That lesson came after I was humiliated by Monay in front of the entire middle school. I almost lost everything. If it weren't for my teacher Toma stepping in to save me, my life would have shattered.
Since that day, I learned to place reason above the heart. Any uncalculated emotion… could be fatal.
I watched her from afar, silent.
Every move she made, I recorded in my mind—every detail—as if she were another part of my mental training.
When I finished and prepared to leave, I noticed her looking at me with a strange expression—a mix of annoyance and curiosity, perhaps mistaking me for a creep or a villain.
I smiled faintly on the inside, but didn't turn to her. I simply walked away calmly, my mind analyzing everything—every glance, every feeling—without letting personal emotions disturb my calculations or weaken my focus.
After finishing my morning workout, I headed to the dormitory's bathroom.
It was clean and organized, warm water flowing steadily, its sound like soothing music easing the tension in my muscles.
I showered quickly, each drop of water washing away the fatigue of the morning and sharpening my senses.
After the shower, I returned to my room, closed the door, and opened my wardrobe.
I chose my clothes carefully—each piece suited for the long day ahead. I put them on calmly and methodically, just as I always did.
The feel of clean clothes on my skin after a hot shower felt like a new beginning—one that restored my control over myself and my mind before any confrontation to come.
By the time I reached the Academy of Kings and Queens, it was—as always—alive and loud.
Students moved through the halls—laughter, shouting, conversations about new friendships and old rivalries, boys trying to impress girls… words everywhere, voices echoing off the walls, turning the academy into a gigantic stage for the daily show of youth.
I thought to myself: They forget their lives are at risk here… that their fate is bound to this academy.
This place chooses the next king—the ruler of the kingdom—not a normal high school.
Maybe some of them try to forget that for a moment, wishing instead that they were in another country enjoying their teenage years, far from strict rules, ruthless exams, and responsibilities far heavier than their age.
Here, every laugh, every step, every whisper carries weight they've never considered.
Every moment tests their courage, intelligence… and their readiness to become part of a history often written with blood and decisions.
I walked silently, not speaking, not stopping, not joining any conversation—just as I used to do in middle school when I was nothing more than a ghost avoiding bullies, fading into shadows until the danger passed.
I entered classroom W and noticed that only a few students had arrived.
Perhaps I was early.
I sat in silence, watching the students enter one by one.
Every movement, every look, every smile or frown—each detail recorded in my mind.
The classroom slowly filled, footsteps blending with scattered chatter, seats being taken one after another.
The noise gradually returned, like the room regaining its breath after a brief pause.
Then she walked in.
Lila De Stefano.
She didn't need noise to draw attention.
Her mere presence shifted the atmosphere.
Calm, confident steps—and a face that revealed nothing of what lay behind it.
Right behind her, exactly one step away, walked her maid—Marleen von Stein—tall, rigid, her eyes devoid of softness.
I noticed how the students' gazes slid toward Lila immediately—whispers, glances of admiration mixed with curiosity… and perhaps caution.
Lila sat gracefully.
Soon, students began approaching her as if they had been waiting for her arrival.
Kevin Hartis stepped forward with his usual smile:
"Good morning, Miss De Stefano. Looks like today will be a long one."
She smiled calmly.
"Good morning, Kevin… our days here never know what 'short' means."
Maria Rose placed a hand on her chest.
"At least we're still alive to complain about it."
Lila chuckled softly.
Karen Bloodblack sat beside her, leaning her head slightly toward her:
"They say the upcoming exams will be harsh… and somehow you always end up at their center."
Lila looked at her, steady and composed:
"One who's used to storms… doesn't fear their return."
The conversation sounded light and friendly—like normal student chatter—but I could see through it.
Behind every word was strategy.
Behind every smile was a position quietly being drawn.
Then Marleen von Stein's eyes met mine.
One single glance.
Cold.
Suspicious.
Hostile.
Just from a look, I felt she was evaluating me—placing me somewhere inside her mind.
I ignored her—or tried to—but I knew my indifference didn't erase her judgment.
On the other side of the room, another scene was forming.
Dillen Nathan stood in front of Federico Freeman, leaning toward him with a mocking tone:
"What's wrong, Freeman? You look too weak to survive here… missing the exit doors already?"
Soft laughter echoed around them.
Federico clenched his fists, trying to stay composed.
"Leave me alone, Dillen."
Dillen stepped closer:
"And do you think you have a choice? Or are you just a name we'll forget after the first failure?"
I watched silently. No one here is as innocent as they look.
And no one is as weak as they appear.
Everyone advances wearing a mask.
My gaze returned to Lila, smiling softly, speaking confidently, while Marleen stood behind her like an inseparable shadow.
I thought quietly: This classroom isn't a classroom. It's a delayed battlefield, and every student here carries a weapon in their own way.
When the classroom finally filled, the noise grew, and topics multiplied.
I sat quietly, gazing out the window at the clear blue sky—untouched by worry or sadness.
Everything about it was beautiful, captivating me completely.
Perhaps it was the only thing that remained constant regardless of time or place.
While I was lost in the sky's beauty, cut off from the students' noise, a thunder-like voice shattered my silence and dragged me back to reality.
Miss Jolene Sharp:
"Quiet, everyone. Class has begun… history lesson."
Her voice was heavy, sharp, and absolute—filling every corner of the classroom.
Everyone fell silent instantly.
We all knew the punishment for disrupting lessons or harming classmates' learning: a loss of nine full points. No exceptions.
She began teaching us about the Battle of Atchville, saying:
"The Battle of Atchville changed the fate of the region, allowing Ivan the Great Founder to unite the Kingdom of Bonout with the Kingdom of Torres. And thus, our great kingdom was born in the year 980 A.D."
We were all immersed in the lesson until suddenly… that ominous sound echoed.
A sharp ringing from our personal watches.
I looked at mine—so did everyone in Class W.
The notification was clear on every screen:
"In two days, all ten classes from A to J
will undergo the examination at 10:00 AM in Detha Hall.
Each class must choose one representative.
Reward: 40 points per student in the winning class,
plus 10 additional points for the class representative.
Penalty for losing: 40 points per student,
and an additional 10-point loss for the representative.
Exam Title: The Ten Gates of Hell."
We all swallowed hard.
The shock on our faces said everything.
This wasn't a normal test.
It was a challenge—one with immense gains or devastating losses.
A trial that placed each class before a new kind of judgment.
I lifted my eyes slowly toward the platform… and met Miss Jolene Sharp's gaze.
She was smiling, but not an ordinary smile.
A thin, cold, wicked smile.
As if our shock—and the fear gripping us—were nothing but entertainment to her.
Or perhaps she had seen this same scene for so many years that her emotions simply died.
When the notification faded, a heavy silence filled the room—a silence where even the sound of heartbeats could be heard.
There was no option to withdraw. The exam was mandatory.
Win or lose… there was no third path.
Kevin Hartis broke the silence first, his voice shaky:
"It's settled… we're all entering the exam whether we like it or not.
The only question now: Who will be our representative?"
Maria Rose shifted nervously in her seat:
"And the representative loses fifty points if they fail! Do you even realize what that means? Fifty out of two hundred!"
Dillen Nathan laughed:
"Excuses… that's all you people know how to make."
Federico Freeman glared at him, eyes blazing:
"You talk like you won't be affected! Everyone here is at risk—even those who don't enter!"
Karen Bloodblack spoke with her usual coldness:
"Logic says we should choose the person with the highest chance of success, not the most enthusiastic."
Samantha Cox objected from the back:
"And is it even fair that one person carries the fate of an entire class?!"
Dillen answered mockingly:
"There's no place for fairness here… only survival."
Kevin finally stepped in, his voice louder than usual:
"Enough! Arguing won't change anything.
The exam is mandatory, and time is running.
What we need isn't accusation… but a decision."
Maria quickly snapped back at him:
"A decision? And are YOU ready to be that decision, Kevin?"
He went silent for a moment, then said honestly:
"If the class chooses me, I'll enter.
If not, I'll support whoever is chosen.
But if we keep this up… we'll drown before the exam even begins."
The arguments flared again—every sentence sparked three more.
Fear was everywhere, even when wrapped in fake confidence.
And suddenly—
A sharp slam echoed through the room.
"Enough!"
Miss Jolene Sharp's voice.
A whip cutting through chaos.
Everyone froze immediately.
She glared at us coldly.
"This is a classroom, not a debate hall.
You will choose the representative later through a draw or a ballot box—just like the neighboring countries elect their officials. Not now."
Then she added, her tone holding a clear threat:
"And now, we either continue the lesson… or this disturbance goes into the official report, and my salary will be deducted because of you.
And believe me… you will NOT like what happens after that."
Silence drowned the room—heavy and suffocating.
While I watched quietly, I caught Dillen Nathan glancing at me, then giving a wicked smile.
A smile that promised nothing good.
As if a sinister idea had just formed in his twisted mind—one that involved me.
I pretended not to notice, simply turning my gaze back to the beautiful blue sky, ignoring Dillen Nathan completely.