I Will Be The Villain

Before anyone could even comprehend what was happening—My fist connected with Zaden's face.

The sound was sharp. Raw. Flesh against bone.

His head snapped to the side, a spray of spit and disbelief flying from his lips. He lost his grip on my collar and stumbled backward, eyes wide, stunned. Then came the crash—Zaden tumbling into a nearby table, a tray clattering to the floor with a metallic clang.

Gasps rippled through the lunchroom. Forks dropped. Someone choked on their food.

It was like the entire Academy forgot how to breathe.

His lackeys scrambled—Shenchen, Griggs, and Slanzo. Their eyes darted between Zaden and me, panic flickering behind their tough facades. They knelt beside him, trying to help him up, muttering curses under their breath.

Zaden pushed himself up, dazed. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He touched it with the back of his hand, staring at the red stain like he didn't recognize it.

Then his gaze snapped to mine—burning with rage. "Get him." he snarled.

Like puppets yanked by invisible strings, his gang moved.

Shenchen stepped forward first, a twisted grin forming on his face. He cracked his knuckles, eyes gleaming with the thrill of violence.

"You just signed your death wish, you arrogant little—"

He didn't finish.

He lunged, fast and wild, fists flying.

But I was faster.

I ducked beneath the punch with practiced ease and drove my elbow into his gut on the way up. The air whooshed out of him in a wheeze. Before he could recover, I kicked his knee out from the side—hard. He collapsed, groaning, one leg bent at an awkward angle as he hit the ground.

Griggs was next.

More cautious, but still too slow.

I grabbed a metal tray off a table and flung it at his face. It struck his temple with a sharp clang. He staggered, dazed. I closed the distance, grabbed his collar, and slammed my knee into his chest—once, twice—before shoving him backward. He collapsed, gasping for breath.

The lunchroom had gone silent again. No one had ever fought back like this. Not against them.

Then there was one left—Slanzo.

He stood frozen, watching his friends lie broken around him. His fists clenched, eyes flicking between me and Zaden.

I tilted my head.

"Don't." I said, voice steady. Cold.

But of course, he moved.

He came from the side, trying to catch me off guard. I let him get close—close enough to believe he had the upper hand.

Then I pivoted.

Grabbed his arm. Twisted. Hard.

He let out a sharp cry, and I used his momentum to flip him over my shoulder. He slammed into the floor with a heavy thud, writhing in pain.

I stood tall, breathing steady. Around me, Zaden's elite were crumpled, gasping, and groaning on the ground. The fear in the room was thick now—buzzing, electrifying.

Zaden hadn't moved. Still seated on the floor, blood on his chin, he looked up at me like I was something monstrous. Something he couldn't comprehend.

I walked toward him. Crouched down to his level.

"You called me weak." I said quietly. "But you forgot something…"

I leaned in, voice low, just for him.

"Even weak things bite when cornered. And I'm done playing the cornered animal."

His eyes flickered.

For the first time—fear.

I stood and turned, walking toward the exit as the silence followed me, thicker than ever.

Everyone watched.

They weren't just shocked.

They were afraid.

And still, as I stepped out into the hallway, I knew:

Nothing had truly changed.

This Academy still fed off power and dominance. It still spit on the weak and bent the rules for the strong. No matter what just happened, the system would patch itself up like a wound that refused to scar.

And I was done letting it bleed me dry.

Astarst Academy had always been a playground for monsters in blazers and polished shoes. A battlefield where kindness meant weakness, and mercy got you hurt.

And I'd been the perfect puppet.

The richest guy. The weakest one. The punching bag.

Even when I fought to survive, I did it by hiding. By hoping someone like Dante would protect me. Be the hero. Be enough.

But i forgot one thing Dante was never meant to be my shield.

Therefore, l won't throw myself into the fire just to protect someone else's dream.

Not because I've stopped caring.

But because I finally understand.

This isn't my story to survive.

It's my story to rewrite.

I wasn't made to be the filler in someone else's growth.

I'm not the supporting role.

I'm the glitch. The deviation. The villain in their narrative.

And if keeping Dante safe means upholding the same sick system that let this place destroy people like us, then I'll let it burn.

So let them whisper.

Let them watch.

Let them fear.

Because I won't just break the rules—

I'll burn the entire script.

And when the ashes settle, they won't remember this as the day Elias broke.

They'll remember this as the day Elias began.

I will destroy everything that ever made me choose between his life and mine.

Everything that ever made me feel powerless in a story I was forced to write with someone else's ink.

This world doesn't deserve heroes.

And I was never meant to be one.

I don't want to save this place.

I want to end it.

So if they want a villain—

Then I'll become the villain they can't control.