CHAPTER 109: FAMILIAR FACE

In the early light of the morning, a loud, persistent knock rattled Noah’s door.

He groaned as he blinked awake, the haze of sleep still clinging to his thoughts.

Three days had passed since he’d been moved into the Gold dorm, and today was the first day of the week. His first official day as a Gold-tier student.

Dragging himself out of bed, he stumbled to the door and pulled it open.

A second-year student stood there, his uniform crisp and perfect. However, that was where the perfection ended.

His expression was polite but wary, as if he was an innocent delivery man that had been sent to deliver something to a terrorist. His entire expression was the definition of "don’t shoot the messenger."

"What?" Noah said, trying to run the sleep out of his eyes.

The student held out his hand, fashioning his expression into one of indifference. In his hand was a small, velvet-lined box.

"Delivery." He said flatly.

Noah accepted it with a muttered, "Thanks," yawning wide enough to make his eyes water. The second-year gave him a stiff nod and left without another word, boots echoing down the corridor.

Closing the door, Noah thumbed open the box. Inside gleamed a new nameplate, the gold trim catching the faint morning light spilling through his curtains.

He picked it up, turning it in his fingers. It was lighter in weight than his Stone-tier nameplate, but felt heavier in what it represented.

A bitter smile touched his lips. ’Gold-tier. Just like that.’

Setting the nameplate on his desk, he shuffled into the bathroom.

The cold spray of water jolted him fully awake, washing away the fatigue but doing nothing for the faint ache that was slowly but surely fading away from his very bones.

He stood under the spray of water longer than he should, letting it numb him before finally stepping out.

He dried himself and opened his wardrobe. The new Gold-tier uniforms hung neatly inside, lined in brilliant gold, tailored with fine cloth that was both softer and studier than what he’d become used to over the past three months.

He slid one free, ran his fingers along the sleeve, and dressed himself piece by piece. The uniform fit snug, a perfect balance between comfort and authority.

His gaze shifted to the corner where his casual clothes should have been. The ones he’d picked with Juniper during their trip to the capital.

The space was empty. They’d never made it back. He felt as if a stone had been dropped into his chest.

’Another thing stolen from me.’

Shaking his head, he closed the wardrobe and turned to his table. His satchel lay waiting.

He gathered the essentials, parchment, quill, and ink bottle, stacking them neatly before sliding them inside. The satchel’s strap creaked as he swung it over his shoulder, letting its familiar weight ground him in the present.

On the far wall hung a mirror. He approached it, his reflection staring back at him in gold-trimmed cloth.

His hair still clung stubbornly to a messy edge despite his efforts, his eyes colder than they’d once been. But it wasn’t just himself he saw.

Behind him, the shadows moved.

They writhed like snakes, long fingers curling up over his shoulders, caressing the edges of his reflection. They hissed silently, their mouths pulling wide in wordless snarls.

Some crouched in the corners of the room, crouching like beasts. Others dangled upside down from the ceiling, grinning down at him with faces that looked too much like his own.

They filled the room. His room.

Noah stared at them, his eyes blank. The mirror fogged with their presence, his own reflection distorted beneath the curtain of their forms.

He turned away. He didn’t need their whispers this morning.

With one last glance at the room behind him, he pulled the door open and stepped out.

His shadows trailed behind him, unseen by anyone else, but felt by him with every step.

His boots clicked softly against the floor as he walked down the quiet corridor toward the floating lifts. When he got there, he glanced at the indicator lights. The lift was on the floor above.

He stood for a few seconds, waiting. When the lift finally arrived, it gave a soft chime, its translucent crystal doors sliding open.

Inside stood someone Noah hadn’t expected to see this morning. Someone he hadn’t even remembered in a long time.

Ben Stanley.

The boy’s face drained of color instantly, the cocky arrogance that had once defined him nowhere to be found. His body stiffened like prey before a predator, eyes wide, shoulders trembling.

"Noah..." Ben stammered, voice breaking. His hand twitched as if to reach for the emergency glyph on the wall, but he stopped himself. Fear rooted him in place.

Noah stepped forward leisurely, his expression unreadable. He entered the lift and the doors closed behind him with a soft hiss, sealing them together in the confined space.

The crystal floor began to hum as the lift descended.

Ben pressed himself back against the wall, eyes darting to Noah, then to the closed doors, then back again.

Noah chuckled. A low, almost pleasant sound that made Ben flinch harder than a shout ever could.

"Relax," he said, staring straight ahead at the glowing runes of the control panel. His voice was calm, almost conversational.

"You know, I just realized something." He continued, his tone detached and reflective. "About you. And me."

He tilted his head slightly, his shadows curling faintly at the edges of the lift, unseen by Ben but stirring in Noah’s vision. "You’re... insignificant."

Ben swallowed hard, his knuckles white against the railing.

"In the grand scheme of things," Noah said, exhaling slowly, "you were never really worth my hatred. All that rage, all that noise, it wasn’t really for you. You just happened to be in the way."

The lift hummed as it glided downward.

Noah finally turned his head, his expression softening into something that resembled warmth, but his eyes remained cold.

He smiled. A pleasant, almost disarming smile. "So I’ll let this go."

Ben blinked, confusion flashing through his fear.

"The next time you appear before me, though," Noah finished, leaning just enough for his voice to sink deep, "you’ll lose your life."

The words were delivered gently, almost kindly, but they rang in Ben’s ears like the toll of a funeral bell.

The lift slowed, the glowing runes dimming as it reached the ground floor. The doors slid open with a hiss, letting in the fresh air and the sound of distant chatter from students outside.

Noah turned away from Ben without another word. His shadows slithered behind him as he stepped out, his posture calm.

He adjusted his satchel over his shoulder, the morning light touching his golden trim as he walked out of the dorm building.

Ben stayed in the lift, frozen, staring at Noah’s retreating back. He didn’t breathe again until the doors closed.

Noah didn’t look back.

His first day as a Gold-tier student had begun.