CHAPTER 52: FAILED ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS

The next morning came heavy with quiet.

Lucian was already up before sunrise, standing by the dorm windows, arms folded, eyes half-lidded as the light began to slide through the mist. He didn’t move. Just watched the world shift from deep blue to silver.

By seven, the dorm was alive with murmurs again. Class Zero didn’t say much to each other. Not because they were tense, but because the buzz outside said more than words ever could. Eyes were following them now. Not with curiosity—something closer to caution. Like people knew not to provoke them too easily.

Evelyn was brushing her teeth when the alert chimed through the dorm intercom.

"All Class Zero members. Proceed to East Wing Courtyard. Immediate summons."

Reia looked up from her seat, hair still damp from a shower. Silas was mid-stretch, and Vyn had just returned from her usual early morning routine—whatever ghost-like training she did in the shadows. They all glanced at each other briefly.

Lucian was already walking out.

No one asked questions. They just followed.

The East Courtyard was quiet when they arrived. No students. No noise. Just the slow hum of surveillance drones circling high above, watching without blinking.

Athena stood in the middle, arms behind her back, black coat fluttering in the morning breeze. She looked like she hadn’t slept, but she was steady. Too steady. That kind of control only came from people who’d been through real hell and didn’t talk about it.

Lucian stopped a few paces in front of her. The others followed his lead and lined up without being told.

Athena said nothing at first. Just looked at each of them.

Her gaze wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold either. It was sharp. Surgical.

She walked in front of them slowly, as if assessing their bodies like blueprints—checking for cracks, mismatched parts, signs of stress. None of them flinched under it.

Finally, she stopped.

"You’ve made the board spin," Athena said, her voice low and even. "Every instructor has seen the replays. Every sector leader is re-evaluating placements. And I’ve had six requests for interviews I shut down before they reached your files."

She paused, let that sink in.

"Class Zero... just became dangerous."

No one said a word.

Then, her eyes narrowed slightly—not harshly, just curious.

"You were all E Rank two days ago," she said. "Now you’re C."

Her voice didn’t accuse. It just hung there.

Evelyn blinked. "We, uh... woke up like this."

Silas rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. Felt weird in the morning."

Reia kept her hands at her side. "We didn’t do anything special."

Athena looked at each of them again, slower this time. No reaction. No lies. They weren’t playing dumb. They genuinely didn’t know how it happened.

Except Lucian.

She held his gaze a second longer.

He gave nothing back.

Then Athena nodded once and didn’t press.

"Doesn’t matter," she said. "C Rank is the new baseline. The rest of the academy will catch wind soon, and your next matches won’t be kind. Sector Twelve’s got a striker that breaks bones on contact. The private duelists team has a kinetic twin-core user. You’re going to be facing people trained to kill."

Evelyn’s throat tightened.

Athena continued. "Your advantage is temporary. Right now, they’re guessing. Once they figure you out... it’s over. Unless you adapt faster."

She took a step forward, voice low.

"Your class has shifted the scale. That’s rare. Most classes barely pass. But I picked each of you because you’re not supposed to follow the rules of average growth. I need you to remember something."

They straightened unconsciously.

"There’s no system," she said. "No cheat sheet. No divine blessing coming to save your asses. Whatever power you woke up with, it’s on you now to grow it or waste it."

Lucian blinked once.

Athena took one last glance around, then nodded to herself.

"Good."

She turned.

Then paused.

"Oh, and one more thing."

The wind tugged at her coat as she looked over her shoulder.

"Don’t trust the rankings too much. There’s more going on under the surface this year. Be ready for anything."

And just like that, she walked off, boots crunching against the old stone path.

They stood there in the quiet after, letting the air settle again.

Silas exhaled slowly. "Was that... a compliment?"

Evelyn folded her arms. "I think that was the closest thing to a ’well done’ we’re gonna get."

Reia looked at Lucian sideways. "You really don’t want to say anything about the rank-up, do you?"

Lucian kept his hands in his pockets. "Would it help?"

"...No."

"Then I won’t."

Vyn said nothing. But she was already drifting toward the courtyard shadows again. Probably to train. Probably to think. Or both.

The others followed slower.

Lucian lingered for a second longer, eyes flicking up to the sky, watching the way the clouds curved behind the dome.

Then he walked.

The shift in the air was barely noticeable.

Just a faint twinge in the wind. Not even enough to rustle Reia’s damp hair as she stepped back toward the training yard. Vyn had already vanished into the shadows, and the others had split off with slow, relaxed strides like the briefing was just another morning check-in.

Lucian paused mid-step.

His eyes flicked sideways.

It was small—a delay so tiny no one else would’ve caught it. But he didn’t keep walking. Didn’t turn his head. He just stood still.

Then came the sound.

Soft.

Wrong.

A high-pitched whine, buried in the wind. Reia’s eyes snapped up just as a shimmer in the air cracked into form—five shapes blurring out of optical camo, dropping from the roof of the eastern tower.

Assassins.

All black. No academy uniform. No emblems.

Lucian moved before anyone else could blink.

The first attacker hit the ground with both blades drawn, going straight for Reia’s throat from behind—silent, efficient.

He never even got close.

Lucian’s hand snapped out. Not fast. Not flashy. Just sharp. Casual.

He grabbed the man’s wrist mid-swing, twisted, and slammed his elbow into the assassin’s gut. Not a sound. Just a dry thud—bone hitting flesh. The man folded over, unconscious before he hit the ground.

The second attacker landed next, slashing low.

Lucian didn’t dodge.

He caught the blade. Barehanded.

It barely nicked him. Skin tore for a second, then sealed just as fast, muscle knitting back like it had a mind of its own. His eyes narrowed.

He pulled the attacker forward, spun, and drove his knee straight into the side of the man’s head. Cracked the mask. The body went limp.

Two down.

The remaining three didn’t hesitate. They came in from different angles—coordinated, fast, professional. One from behind, one from the air, one feinting from the front.

Lucian vanished.

It wasn’t teleportation.

He just wasn’t where they thought he’d be anymore.

The one from behind screamed suddenly, limbs twisting the wrong way. The airborne one caught a roundhouse kick mid-descent—his ribs folded, body crashing to the floor like a sack of iron. The front one didn’t even have time to adjust.

Lucian walked past him, eyes forward.

The attacker’s legs buckled a second later.

He hit the stone flat on his face.

Five enemies. Less than five seconds.

Reia hadn’t even moved yet.

She blinked slowly, then looked around. "Was that...?"

"Ambush," Lucian said calmly, brushing a speck of dust off his sleeve. "Sloppy."

Silas came running from the west wing, shirt half-buttoned, Evelyn right behind him.

"What the hell was that noise?" Silas asked, eyes flicking to the bodies.

Evelyn froze halfway. "Oh."

Reia pointed toward Lucian. "He handled it."

Silas looked at the bodies, then back at Lucian. "You didn’t even look tired."

"I’m not."

They all stood there in silence as Vyn reappeared on the far edge of the courtyard. She didn’t ask. Just scanned the scene, nodded once, and disappeared again.

Athena showed up a moment later, already armed.

She saw the bodies.

Saw Lucian.

And stopped.

"...How long ago?" she asked.

Lucian checked his wrist. "Twelve seconds."

Athena exhaled slowly. "Anyone hurt?"

"No."

She stepped over one of the bodies and crouched. Her eyes scanned the gear. No academy tags. No signatures. The tech was high-end, clean, off-market.

She stood up. "These weren’t students."

Lucian nodded. "Someone slipped them past the dome."

Athena’s eyes narrowed. "Then someone’s trying to test you. Or take you out."

Silas cracked his knuckles. "Can we take that personally?"

"Feel free," Athena said, glancing around. "But keep it quiet. No reports. Not yet."

Reia crossed her arms. "Someone’s scared."

"They should be," Athena said flatly.

Lucian looked toward the northern wall where the shadows were thickest. "This won’t be the last."

Athena nodded. "I know."

She didn’t linger. She called in cleanup through a private comm and left with the bodies already vanishing in containment drones.

The courtyard emptied again.

Quiet returned.

But it wasn’t peaceful.

It was the kind of quiet that said the game just changed. Again.

Lucian didn’t say anything more.

He just walked back toward the dorms, hands still in his pockets, eyes straight ahead.

No blood. No panic. No threat.

Just another morning.