Isolation Chamber III

Time moved as it always does, unrelenting and oblivious to the upheavals it leaves in its wake. Seasons turned, days faded into one another, and the world waited with bated breath.

Then, on the day of the Sovereign's Tournament—a spectacle drawing every gaze, from kingdoms to commoners alike—Mythos Academy broke its silence. They announced, much to the world's shock, that Arthur Nightingale was officially on leave and would not be participating. Whispers and rumors, already brewing, roared into a storm. The Academy's prestige began to tremble under speculation, fueled by theories of Arthur's supposed dissatisfaction and departure in search of greater freedom, a notion that cast Mythos Academy in an unflattering light.

For an institution revered as the pinnacle of magical and martial education, such gossip was a crack in its illustrious armor, especially coming on the heels of the recent field trip disaster. The near-catastrophe had almost become a stain on the Academy's reputation, with the student body shaken and several students injured. Yet, miraculously, no lives had been lost, sparing Mythos from the severe sanctions the world's superpowers had been prepared to levy.

Still, the vacant seat of the Headmaster, looming and untouched, weighed more heavily with each passing day. The Academy's leader, one of humanity's eleven Radiant-ranked champions, had been absent for too long. Though his wisdom and power were respected, whispers of replacement began, born of necessity rather than impatience.

Initially, all eyes turned to Magnus Draykar, the fabled Martial King and senior professor. His reputation was unmatched, his experience unparalleled. But he declined, refusing the role with a curt refusal, dismissing it as far too tedious a task. And so, Mythos Academy found a new leader in Valerie, her fierce reputation and Immortal rank securing her the position of Headmaster, while Nero stepped up as her Vice Headmaster.

The Academy braced itself under this new era, hoping the change would be enough to weather the turbulence surrounding Arthur's absence. Yet even as they settled into their roles, a gnawing question remained, lingering in every corner and echoing through the halls: where was Arthur Nightingale, and what kind of power would he return with?

Lucifer Windward sat in the quiet hum of the cafe, lost in the pull of his own thoughts while the music in his headphones kept the world at bay. His gaze flickered over the familiar setting. This was that cafe, he remembered—the one he'd visited with Seraphina, Arthur, and Cecilia at the very start of their first year at Mythos Academy, when they were just hopeful young sprouts, not yet tempered by the storms they would weather.

Now, January had come, and much had changed. The Roman numeral 'III' on his uniform was a reminder of how far he'd come, though the weight of it felt almost hollow. The image of Arthur's sword—the one wielded not by Arthur but by that relentless entity that had occupied his friend's body—kept flashing through his mind. That strength, that precision, had been beyond him. Even now, as the winter wind tapped against the glass and sent shivers down his spine, the memory of it lingered, urging him forward.

He clenched his fist, jaw tightening. Though he now understood that the force he'd witnessed hadn't truly been Arthur's, it didn't dull the edge of his determination. It had driven him to push himself relentlessly through the summer, to train until his body felt ready to give out. Still, deep down, he knew he hadn't yet earned the title of Rank 1.

Then, his phone screen lit up with a flurry of notifications from the Class 3-A group chat. Lucifer picked up his phone, scrolling through the messages with widening eyes.

Arthur was back.

A grin spread across his face, unbidden and fierce. The race was on once again.

Lucifer didn't waste a second. He bolted from the cafe, heart pounding with anticipation. By the time he reached the hall, the others were already gathered—Seraphina, Cecilia, Ren, Jin, Ian, and Rachel—all standing with an expectant energy in the air. Rose Springshaper, ever the watchful mentor, lingered nearby, her gaze steady.

Rachel took a deep breath, steadying herself before she reached for the door. "Let's go in," she murmured, her voice betraying a hint of emotion.

As the door swung open, they saw him—Arthur, seated calmly on the couch. The familiar dark hair framed his face, but it was his eyes that caught their attention. The depth in them had returned, warm and piercing, worlds away from the cold gaze they'd last seen.

"Arthur…" Rachel's voice trembled, a soft whisper in the stillness of the room.

He rose from the couch and, without a word, stepped toward her. She barely had time to react before he wrapped her in a hug, his arms strong and grounding.

The world fell away for a moment as she sank into the embrace.

"I missed you," he murmured, releasing Rachel before turning to Seraphina and Cecilia, drawing them each into a quiet embrace.

"I missed all three of you," he repeated, a soft smile tracing his lips, the warmth unmistakable in his gaze.

Seraphina, not one to let sentiment pass by unnoticed, tugged gently at his sleeve. "We missed you too, Arthur," she replied, her own smile bright yet tinged with relief.

There was a gentle laughter shared among them, but the underlying tension—months of worry, unanswered questions, and silent fears—still hung in the air like a mist. Arthur's gaze softened as he looked around, taking in each of his friends.

Lucifer, leaning back with crossed arms, couldn't help but smirk. "You've kept us on our toes, Nightingale. Good to have you back."

Arthur chuckled, a sound that felt as familiar as it was reassuring. "I don't intend to disappear again anytime soon."

The others relaxed, and the energy in the room shifted, a newfound steadiness settling over them.