The Chamber

The hallway outside the classroom was quiet, but the silence felt heavier than it should. My footsteps echoed alongside Dante's, and every time his shoulder brushed close, I had to remind myself not to flinch. I wasn't scared. Definitely not scared. Just… alert. Hyperaware.

Voss walked ahead of us, his back straight, coat billowing with every purposeful stride. He didn't speak, didn't glance back, didn't need to. The silence he carried said enough.

We turned a corner, passing through a locked door I'd never noticed before. With a flick of his hand, Voss twisted the handle—no key, no chant—and the door creaked open into a dim corridor lined with flickering lights and thick stone walls. My stomach turned.

This… wasn't a detention room.

"This doesn't feel very administrative." I muttered.

Voss didn't respond. He simply stopped in front of a thick black door, turned to face us, and looked between me and Dante.

"You two." He said slowly. "Are either going to kill each other or accidentally become something useful. I haven't decided which would be more entertaining."

Neither of us responded.

He opened the door.

Inside was a circular chamber with a rune-marked floor and glowing crystals embedded into the walls. It radiated quiet energy, old and patient, like the room itself had been watching people make bad decisions for centuries.

Voss gestured us in. "Training chamber. You two are going to stay in here until I see something worth keeping."

"Wait, what?" I blinked. "You want us to… fight?"

"No." he said with a faint smirk. "I want you to learn. But if a fight happens, well…" He gave a careless shrug. "So be it."

Dante finally spoke, voice low. "And if we don't?"

Voss arched a brow. "Then I'll lock the door and let nature take its course."

My blood ran cold. He wasn't joking.

Before either of us could protest, the door slammed shut behind us. A soft click followed. Locked.

I turned to Dante slowly.

He wasn't looking at me. He was looking at the runes on the floor, the glow of magic reflecting in his eyes like something ancient was stirring inside him.

"So." I said carefully. "Uh… team-building exercise?"

His eyes finally shifted to mine.

"No." he said. "More like survival training."

"Survival for what? We're students, not some warriors. He can't just lock us up here!" I threw my hands in the air, pacing in a tight circle. "That guy really is weird and has no sense of protecting his students at all."

The room stayed silent except for the echo of my own voice bouncing off the rune-lined walls.

I kept ranting because honestly, what else could I do? If I stayed quiet, I'd probably start panicking. And if I panicked in front of him, it'd be like signing my own death certificate.

I gestured vaguely toward the closed door. "I mean seriously, who does that? Just throws two teenagers into a glowing magic chamber and says. "'Work it out or die trying.' That's not education, that's borderline lunacy!"

Still no answer. I glanced at Dante. He was standing perfectly still, arms crossed, eyes on me like I was an insect under glass. Watching. Judging.

I pointed at him now, fueled by pure survival instinct and recklessness. "And you! You're not helping. You're just standing there all silent and intimidating like some brooding villain in a drama. Say something!"

Dante's head tilted slightly. "You done?"

"No." I snapped. "I'm just getting started. Because if I stay in here with you, who can beat me into a pulp in two seconds and not even flinch, then yeah, I have every right to freak out a little."

He didn't move. Didn't blink.

"So go ahead." I added, throwing my arms wide. "Break my jaw, throw me across the room, whatever. At least then maybe Voss will unlock the door and take me to the infirmary. Better than being stuck here while you're silently plotting my death."

Dante finally pushed off the wall and took a slow step forward. Not threatening—just measured. Controlled. Which was somehow worse.

"And here I thought you'd be smart enough to shut up before getting your face rearranged." He said quietly, almost thoughtfully.

I froze.

He stopped a few feet away, eyes still locked on mine. "But now I get it. You're not brave. You're just loud."

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

"That rumor." He added, voice even lower, like a knife sliding under skin, "You did start it, didn't you?"

My stomach twisted.

So much for him not knowing.

"What the hell?" I said, snapping my head toward him with the best fake offense I could muster. "Oh please—how would I even know enough to start something like that? I don't even know you."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but I didn't stop.

"It must be Zaden. Yeah. He's the one who's close to you. Talks to you, trains with you—hell, he probably knows what you eat for breakfast. Not me. Why are you shifting your blame from him to me?"

I lied like second nature, each word rolling off my tongue smoother than silk. My heart was pounding like a war drum, but I kept my face neutral, just enough irritation in my voice to sell the role of the wrongly accused. If he caught on—if he sensed even a flicker of hesitation—I was done.

Dante didn't respond right away. He just stared at me, eyes unreadable. Then, slowly, he turned his gaze away, like he was trying to decide if I was worth breaking in half or just ignoring altogether.

I released a quiet breath I didn't know I was holding.

Good. He didn't push.

I sighed, letting my shoulders sag just a little, trying to appear more tired than tense. "Look, I don't know what you're dealing with." I added, softer now. "But maybe don't go around accusing people just because your life is falling apart. Not everything's about you."

That earned a flick of his eyes back toward me, sharp and warning.

Okay, maybe that part was a little too far.

I quickly shifted back to neutrality. "I'm just saying." I added with a shrug, "I've got my own problems, man. Getting involved in your drama would be extra effort I don't have the time or energy for."

He didn't answer. He didn't have to. The weight of his silence said everything.

Still, I had to keep playing the game. Keep the lie alive.

Because the truth?

The truth was: I had started the rumor.

And I was going to keep it alive.

But not just to humiliate him.

The real plan is simple: let's see who Dante becomes when the world no longer bows at his feet. Because this is just the beginning."