A Warning in Blood

The morning after the faction announcement, Zero sat in his dorm, deep in thought. The words of the announcement still echoed in his mind. Factions are now open. This meant that the competition would intensify. More eyes would be on him, more traps set, and more hidden agendas at play. He needed to be ready.

The Forbidden Knowledge he had barely begun to grasp was still an enigma to him. He had always relied on his sharp mind and subtle maneuvers, but if he could unlock the full potential of his newly gained power, it would give him an edge. He closed his eyes and focused, trying to reach out to the knowledge buried within him.

Energy coursed through his body in unfamiliar ways. Unlike the structured flow of Martial Arts or the elemental harmony of Arcane Techniques, Forbidden Knowledge was erratic, unnatural—almost sentient. He attempted to will it into shape, to force it into something usable, but it resisted. He could feel something within the power, something... alive. He needed to understand it more.

Later in the day, while walking through the academy courtyard, he felt a shift in the air. A group of seniors, the same ones he had humiliated when saving the bullied students before, blocked his path. Their leader, a burly third-year with a scar along his jaw, cracked his knuckles.

"You think you can walk around like you own this place after what you pulled?" the senior sneered. "Time for a lesson."

A crowd began to gather, murmuring in excitement. Zero knew that now was not the time to show his strength. He needed to maintain his facade. So, instead of fighting back, he let them.

A fist struck his stomach, then another to his face. He stumbled but did not resist. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as kicks and punches rained down on him. The onlookers whispered, some disappointed, some smug.

"So he's just talk..." someone muttered.

Just as another punch was about to land, a hand caught the senior's wrist. Luther stood there, eyes cold.

"That's enough."

The senior clicked his tongue but backed off. "Fine. He's not even worth it."

The group walked away, laughing, as the crowd dispersed. Luther turned to Zero, expression unreadable. "Why did you let them do that?"

Zero wiped the blood from his lip and grinned, eyes holding a knowing glint. "Because sometimes, being underestimated is the greatest advantage."

Luther stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. "You're insane."

Zero only chuckled.

That night, he gathered his group once more. He placed the latest letter in front of them.

"I've been receiving cryptic letters," Zero stated. "They started as warnings, but this last one felt different. This time, the sender seemed like they actually wanted to help. And they signed their name—Cecil Vance."

A silence fell over the room. Then, Veyna Crowe, which was surprisingly an ever-knowledgeable historian of the group, spoke up.

"Cecil Vance... I know that name. I've read about him before. He's in the history books."

Zero's eyes narrowed. "Who was he?"

"A Sageborn. A powerful one. One of the last recorded in history before the Purge. He was said to have unparalleled intellect and mastery over both Arcane Techniques and Forbidden Knowledge. But the thing is... he died centuries ago."

Zero clenched his jaw. "Then how did he send me a letter?"

The room fell into a tense silence.

Something far greater was at play here.

After discovering that Cecil Vance had been dead for centuries, Zero and his group, the tension in the air thick as they brainstormed possible explanations. How could a long-deceased sageborn have sent Zero a letter? Was it a descendant, someone using his name as a cover, or perhaps even a trap set by those hunting Zero? Each theory brought its own risks, and none of them could be ignored.

Reina Vaughn leaned back, arms crossed, her calculating eyes glinting in the dim light. "If someone is using the name of a dead man, it's likely a lure. A test to see how you'd react."

Veyna Crowe, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve, frowned. "But what if it's not? What if it's a genuine message left behind through some means we don't yet understand? Sageborn were known for their knowledge beyond mortal comprehension."

Luther tapped his fingers against the table. "Regardless of the intent, it's clear that whoever wrote this letter knows about Zero's situation. That alone makes them dangerous."

Before Zero could respond, the door creaked open, and a shadowed figure stepped inside. The group instinctively tensed, hands moving toward weapons, but Zero held up a hand to stop them.

"It's fine," he said calmly. "He's with me."

Reiner stepped forward, his hooded cloak barely concealing the sharpness in his gaze. "I have news. And it's bad."

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. Reiner took a deep breath before speaking.

"I was following Elise Mortwain as you ordered," he began. "I kept my distance, careful not to get too close. But at some point, she disappeared. Just for a moment. And when I finally caught up..." His voice wavered slightly. "I found another spy. One just like me. Or rather... what was left of him."

Zero narrowed his eyes. "Dead?"

Reiner nodded, his jaw tight. "Throat slit. But that's not all. Next to the body, written in his own blood, was a single word."

He paused for a second before continuing. "Stop."

A heavy silence followed. The weight of the message settled upon them like an oppressive force. It wasn't just a warning—it was a promise. A declaration that they were being watched, and that any further steps taken in defiance would be met with the same fate.

Nia, normally composed, clenched her fists. "They're onto us."

Zero, however, merely smiled, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Good. That means we're making progress."

But even as he said the words, he knew this was only the beginning. Elise had noticed. The Watcher was aware. And whoever was behind the letters of Cecil Vance—if they even existed—was playing a game far beyond what they had expected.

One misstep, and they would all fall.

After Reiner delivered his report about the Watcher and the chilling warning left behind, silence hung in the room. The weight of the revelation settled over them like an oppressive fog. Zero, however, remained composed. If anything, his mind was already working ahead, strategizing the next move.

"This changes nothing," he finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. "If anything, it only confirms that we're stepping into dangerous territory. We need to be prepared. So from now on, we'll move carefully. No unnecessary risks. And everyone will have a role."

He turned to Reina Vaughn, his cold and calculating tactician. "Reina, I need you to go deeper into the academy's archives. If there's anything at all about Cecil Vance that's been erased or hidden, I want to know about it. You have the mind for this. Use it."

Reina nodded, her calculating eyes gleaming with curiosity. "I'll do what I can. If there's anything left to find, I'll dig it up."

Next, he faced Luther, the powerhouse of their group. "Luther, I need you to do what you do best. Be visible. Make some noise. Let people see you training and picking fights. We need to make them think you're the real threat here. Draw attention away from our real movements."

Luther smirked, cracking his knuckles. "So, I'm the decoy? Fine by me."

Zero then turned to Nia, their quiet but perceptive member. "Nia, you're good at moving unnoticed. I need you to do some listening. Find out what's being whispered in the darker corners of this academy. Anything about Elise Mortwain, the rulers, or even Cecil Vance. Don't engage, just observe."

Nia gave a small nod. "Understood."

Finally, Zero faced Veyna Crowe, the one who had knowledge of the past. "Veyna, you said Cecil Vance is in the history books. I want you to track down every single one of them. Find inconsistencies. Find what's missing. And more importantly, find out why."

Veyna exhaled deeply. "That's a lot of reading, but… I'll do it."

Zero leaned back, surveying them all. "This isn't just about me anymore. We're in this together now. We need to know exactly what we're dealing with before we make our next move. So stay sharp, stay quiet, and remember—" he looked at each of them, eyes unreadable, "—we only make our move when we're certain."

With that, he dismissed them. One by one, they left, each carrying their assigned mission. And as Zero sat alone in the dimly lit room, he allowed himself a small smirk.