Who the fuck are you?

"My name is Vandal. And it's really nice to have you as a member of our Academy. As the leader of the second Caste, I welcome you," Vandal introduced himself with a calm smile. 

"If you ever need anything, August, whether it's help understanding the academy or someone gives you trouble, you're always welcome to come to my office. I'll always be here for you."

August, slightly overwhelmed by the kindness and authority Vandal exuded, simply nodded. "Thank you."

Vandal tilted his head slightly, studying August's face before asking, "Do you have any idea what's going on here?" 

August shook his head, unsure of what exactly Vandal meant. The supernatural academy was still a blur of unfamiliar customs and power struggles to him. He wasn't even supernatural to begin with. 

Vandal's serene smile remained as he deftly poured tea for August. He called out to Bubbles, who was bouncing with energy nearby. "Bubbles, would you be so kind as to bring me the map?"

"Sure, president!" Bubbles, ever eager, excitedly jumped to his feet and darted out, returning quickly with a large, ornate scroll. As Vandal spread it out on the table, the entire academy's layout came into view, marked by intricate lines and detailed labels. 

Meanwhile, Edwin sprawled lazily on the massive couch, half-listening, half-dozing.

Vandal pointed to the map, tracing his finger over the three primary blocks that made up the academy's vast expanse. "The academy is divided into three distinct wings. Each one reflects the power dynamics that rule this place."

His finger landed on the first block. "This is the Royals wing. As the name suggests, only those with pure Alpha bloodlines or those of high societal standing belong here. They are the elite of the elite—untouchable. They set the rules, and no one dares to challenge them."

He paused, his eyes flicking toward August. "Alphas, in particular, dominate this caste. They're known for their aggressive nature and predatory instincts. The Royals thrive on power and control. In this academy, they're treated like gods."

August's stomach churned slightly. He could only imagine the toxic, suffocating atmosphere in that part of the academy, where everyone constantly fought to assert dominance.

Vandal's finger shifted to the second wing. "Then there are the Hounds. This is where I lead. We're the middle caste, given more freedom than others but often tasked with maintaining the order established by the Royals. In many ways, we're the enforcers—the ones who carry out their will."

August's eyes widened slightly in realization. "Is that why everyone listened to you earlier?"

Vandal nodded. "Partly. As the leader of the Hounds, I have certain…authority. But even so, the Hounds are only as powerful as the Royals allow us to be. We may maintain control, but we are also watched closely. Step out of line, and the Royals will not hesitate to put us in our place."

August took a small sip of his tea. Vandal's explanation made it clear that even those with power like the Hounds were ultimately subservient to the pureblood Alphas.

Finally, Vandal's finger landed on the third wing. His expression darkened. "And then…there are the Forsaken. The lowest caste. These are the Omegas, the weaker Alphas, and the students who don't meet the high standards set by the elites."

August leaned in closer, curiosity piqued by the bitterness in Vandal's tone.

"They are treated as less than dirt," Vandal continued. "Humiliated, ridiculed, and made to serve the whims of the upper castes. They are expendable—used for anything from manual labor to twisted entertainment. They are the scapegoats of the academy, and their lives here are…miserable."

Vandal's words painted a grim picture, and August's heart ached slightly at the thought of such cruelty. He could sense the unspoken rule: if you fell into the Forsaken caste, you were as good as invisible. It was a place of despair, where the strong preyed on the weak with no consequences.

Vandal continued, "The Forsaken are often used to vent the frustrations of the upper classes. If an Alpha is in a bad mood, they will likely take it out on an Omega or a weaker student. And if you're part of the Forsaken, no one will come to your aid. They are truly the outcasts here."

Edwin chimed in from the couch, stretching lazily. "That's why it's better to stay on good terms with someone like Vandal. He's one of the few who actually gives a damn about what happens to the weaker students."

Vandal didn't deny it, but his expression softened. "I believe everyone deserves respect, regardless of their status. But in this academy…respect is often earned through fear."

August absorbed everything, feeling a growing unease in his chest. This academy wasn't just a place of learning; it was a battleground of power, where the strong ruled with merciless authority and the weak were trampled underfoot.

Vandal's gaze softened as he glanced back at August. "Don't worry. As long as you're with me and Edwin, you'll be safe." 

August stared at the map laid out before him, his thoughts racing. Royals, Hounds, Forsaken? What kind of messed-up place had he stepped into? Sure, he expected this school to be a little strange—after all, it was a supernatural academy—but this? This was beyond fucked up. It felt more like he'd stepped into some sort of medieval hierarchy with a dark twist.

How do they even live like this? August couldn't wrap his head around the idea of everyone being classified into rigid castes based on something as arbitrary as strength or bloodline. It was all so bizarre. Is this even a school or some glorified hunting ground?

Sensing August's reaction, Vandal's smile softened. "I know it seems overwhelming, but trust me, you'll get used to it. You'll need to, or else this place will eat you alive." 

His voice was gentle, almost pitiful as if he'd seen too many newcomers break under the weight of the academy's oppressive hierarchy. 

Vandal then tilted his head slightly, observing August carefully. "You're not an Alpha or beta, are you? I'm a vampire but I can tell you're not a vampire as well. What exactly are you?"

What am I? How was he supposed to answer that without sounding completely out of place? 

Seeing August's hesitation, Vandal smiled again, his beauty becoming even more apparent in the warm light of the room. His raven-black hair fell neatly over his forehead, and his eyes—sharp and dark, yet inviting—seemed to glisten like polished obsidian. His skin was pale, smooth, and flawless, like porcelain, and his lips curled into a soft smile that could have charmed anyone into forgetting their troubles. There was a dangerous elegance to him, like a predator who chose not to show its fangs unless necessary.

"If you're not sure, I can help you figure it out. I'll make sure you're placed in the right caste. It's important to know where you stand here. Everyone has to follow the system." 

August raised a brow. "Is it really necessary? These 'castes'—do I have to be a part of them?"

Vandal didn't seem offended by the question. In fact, his smile only widened, a polite yet knowing expression. "It's the rule of the academy. Everyone has their place here. No one is exempt."

What kind of backward nonsense is this? August thought, but before he could formulate a proper response, 

Bubbles, ever the bundle of excitement, suddenly blurted out, "He's human!"

Vandal's smile froze mid-expression. His entire demeanor shifted in an instant as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over him. His wide, startled eyes locked onto August, and he quickly rose from his chair, his body stiff with disbelief. 

"What?" Vandal's voice was sharp, almost panicked. It was as if he had just seen a ghost.

August blinked, confused by the reaction. Is it really that big of a deal? He glanced at Vandal, then over to Edwin, who had sat up from his lounging position on the couch. Even Edwin seemed genuinely puzzled by Vandal's reaction. 

"What's the matter?" Edwin asked, standing up now, concern creasing his brow. 

Vandal's hand went to his temple as if a sudden headache had struck him. He staggered slightly, causing Bubbles to rush to his side, steadying him with a worried expression. 

"Are you okay, president?" 

Vandal nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "I'm fine," he whispered before turning his gaze back to August, still shaken. But…a human? Why would they allow a human into this academy? What are they up to now?

August frowned. "What's so weird about being a human here?" He was getting tired of this. Tired of playing the nice, clueless student while everyone around him acted as if he were some sort of alien. "Why is it such a big deal that I'm human?"

Vandal gave him a hard look, his expression both pitying and worried. "You don't understand, do you? This academy—it's dangerous for someone like you. Humans…they're not supposed to be here. You're vulnerable. The others—they won't see you as anything more than prey."

Edwincrossed his arms, now standing next to August. "I had the same question brother. Why was a human suddenly accepted here?"

Vandal rubbed his temple again. "I don't know. But I'll speak with the principal. Maybe they made some sort of exception..."

He trailed off as he looked back at August. "In the meantime, you need to be careful. Very careful. Until I can sort this out, you're an open target. Even if you don't understand the danger, others will. Stay away from all the Alpha, especially the higher ranks." 

August's head throbbed. All of this was too much. He'd come here to study, to learn, not to navigate some insane caste system and dodge predatory supernatural beings. And now, apparently, he had a giant target painted on his back just because he wasn't one of them. 

I'm already feeling that headache, he muttered under his breath.

Just as the tension in the room reached its peak, the door opened with a quiet creak, and Blade entered, carrying a stack of files in his hands. His eyes briefly met Edwin's before he turned his attention to Vandal.

"I brought the music club files," Blade said calmly as he handed the documents to Vandal.

Vandal, still slightly shaken from the revelation, managed a small smile in return. "Thank you, Blade."

Instead of leaving immediately, Blade lingered, his lips curling into a rare smile directed solely at Vandal. 

August couldn't help but find it odd. Earlier, when he had stumbled upon Blade in the bathroom with Edwin, the atmosphere between them had been icy, suffocating even. Blade had been cold, and ruthless, threatening Edwin with a menace that sent chills through August. 

But now, standing in the same room as Vandal, Blade seemed almost docile, respectful, listening without question. How could he behave so differently with both brothers?

Observing the scene with a dark glare, Edwin stood up from the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. "Blade, you should leave. It's not good for a Royal to stay in Hounds' territory for too long." 

Blade's eyes narrowed, his gaze snapping to Edwin with a sharp glare, clearly not appreciating the order.  

Vandal intervened. "He's right, Blade. You shouldn't stay too long."

Blade sighed, his cold glare softening into a resigned look as he turned back to Vandal. "Fine." Then, to Edwin's surprise, he added, "Walk me out."

Edwin blinked, taken aback by the sudden request. He hesitated for a moment before nodding, following Blade toward the door without a word. 

Bubbles suddenly let out a squeal. "Oh my god, Blade is so  hot!"

Vandal chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "You have a thing for Royals, don't you, Bubbles?"

Bubbles pouted playfully. "You know who else is hot? Hunter. If he wasn't such a frightening asshole..."

The mention of Hunter caused Vandal's expression to harden. His smile faded instantly, replaced by a cold, serious look. "Hunter is not someone to be admired," he said darkly, his voice dropping to a low, menacing tone. "He's dangerous. If you're not careful around him, he won't just hurt you—he'll break your bones, shatter them like glass. He'll strip you of everything that makes you human, leave you crawling in pain, begging for mercy that will never come."

Bubbles' face drained of color at Vandal's words, the playful mood disappearing as quickly as it had come. He swallowed nervously. "I-I was just kidding..."

Vandal's eyes, still sharp and cold, stayed locked on Bubbles for a moment before he sighed, his face softening slightly. "Just be careful. I always warn you kids to stay out of trouble. I can't be available with you all the time." 

August couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease. "Who is this Hunter I keep hearing about?" 

Vandal turned to him. "Hunter is the heir to the most powerful Alpha leader who controls this academy. He's also Blade's older brother, but they're nothing alike. While Blade has some sense of humanity left in him, Hunter is a devil in disguise."

August frowned, not liking where this was going.

"He's the leader of all the Royals," Vandal continued. "He's extremely dangerous and merciless. People fear him, and for good reason. He's not just an Alpha; he's…something else. Something really dark. The academy gave him his own penthouse, away from the dorms, to keep the other students safe. He has…issues. Dangerous issues. The kind that makes people disappear without a trace."

"You won't see him much, though," Vandal added, as if trying to offer some comfort. "He barely shows up at the academy. Stays in his penthouse most of the time."

August stayed silent. The more he learned about this place, the more bizarre—and dangerous—it seemed. But despite the ominous warnings about Hunter, a small part of him felt a sense of relief. If Hunter lived in a separate penthouse, that meant he wouldn't have to deal with him. 

After all, August thought, Hunter is supposed to be my roommate…but if he never shows up, it'll be easier for me.

After dinner, August made his way back to his dorm, feeling more at ease knowing he'd likely have the room to himself. But as soon as he stepped inside, all his assumptions crumbled.

Before he could even take in his surroundings, he was violently shoved against the wall, a heavy force slamming into him with brutal strength. August's breath left his lungs in a painful gasp as his back hit the hard surface, the impact sending shockwaves through his body.

His mind scrambled to make sense of the situation, but all he could register was the overwhelming presence of the body pinning him against the wall. Strong hands gripped his wrists, crushing them against the cold surface above his head, and a rough, heated breath brushed against his ear.

"Who the fuck are you?" The voice was a low growl, dripping with fury and threat. The man's hold tightened painfully, his powerful body pressing against August's smaller frame, leaving no room for escape.

The scent of leather, smoke, and something wild filled August's senses, making it difficult to think. His heart raced in his chest, panic surging through him as he struggled to comprehend what was happening.

The man's grip was iron-like, his fingers digging into August's skin as he leaned closer, his face dangerously close. His eyes—cold, predatory, and devoid of any warmth—glared into August's own, a lethal fire burning behind them.

"I asked you a question," the man snarled, his voice a dangerous mix of impatience and anger. "Who the hell are you?" 

August's breath hitched, his mind blanking as he stared into the eyes of the man who had him pinned. His voice caught in his throat, his body frozen under the sheer intensity of the moment.

Is this…Hunter?

But wasn't he supposed to be in his penthouse? So what the fuck is he doing here?"