Chapitre 6: First Day Of School
The dawn of Raphael's first day at the villain academy came with the rising sun, infiltrating the room with its gentle warmth. He spent his first day meticulously arranging his room, each book and knick-knack set precisely where he wanted. His careful effort had turned the sterile, unfamiliar space into something more comforting, more like home.
He was seated on the edge of his bed, just about to lose himself in a book, when his roommate's voice rang out from the living area. "Raphael, your uniform's arrived!" Devon called out.
Devonwas as delicate as he was handsome, his youthful skin smooth beneath finely arched brows. They had shared a few brief moments of camaraderie after Serena's departure, their introductions providing a solid foundation for burgeoning friendship.
Despite their differences—Devon, a lifelong resident of the academy, and Raphael, the newcomer—they were remarkably alike. Both were fifteen, each with a certain spark in their eye that hinted at untapped potential.
"Coming!" Raphael replied, bookmarking his page and bounding out of the room. His academy uniform lay neatly folded on the table, awaiting his acceptance.
A few signatures later, the delivery was complete, and Raphael was left holding the crisp fabric of his new attire.
"Hurry and change, Raphael. Class is about to start," Devon urged, his gaze fixed on Raphael with an intensity that hinted at the importance of punctuality.
Raphael was just about to heed Devon's advice when the door swung open with a quiet creak. Standing in the threshold was a teenage boy, his dark hair falling over amber eyes that glowed with a fierce intensity.
His chiseled face and sharp jawline were accentuated by the academy uniform, and he towered over both Raphael and Devon at a height of five feet and ten inches.
His eyes locked onto Raphael's, and for a moment, the room was filled with a silent tension. It was Devon's voice that broke the spell. "Raphael, meet my friend, Aiden. Aiden, this is Raphael, my new roommate."
"Raphael, meet Aiden, my best friend," Devon introduced, effectively breaking the silent battle of wills. "Aiden, my new roommate, Raphael."
Aiden's attention shifted, however, when he noticed the uniform in Raphael's hand. "Wait, Elite Division?" He questioned, a frown marring his handsome face. "I thought there were no more spots open in that division."
"Raphael was personally brought in by Lady Serena. Must be the son of some director or something," Devon shrugged, unbothered by the revelation.
Aiden's eyes widened, "Wait, Serena was here? Why didn't you call me?"
Aiden shot Devon a wry scowl, his brows furrowed in frustration. Devon simply shook his head in response, a smirk curling his lips. "What's got you riled up, Aiden? I thought you'd moved on after Serena dismissed your hundredth declaration of love."
"Shhh!" Aiden's eyes twitched in annoyance at Devon's unchecked candor. He cast a pleading look at Devon, attempting to convey his plea for discretion.
"He's bound to find out sooner or later. The whole campus is buzzing with the news," Devon responded dismissively.
Aiden's lips curled into a knowing grin. "Then he'd probably also know about your inability to converse with women, especially the beautiful ones or those who wear enticing fragrances."
Devon stuttered, caught off guard by Aiden's teasing retort. "Y-You… At least I still have better chances with them than you do."
"Oh, really? They find you creepy, Devon. As for me, I'm a hot commodity among the ladies," Aiden retorted, a smug look on his face.
Raphael, who had been watching the pair from a distance, couldn't suppress a chuckle. The duo's argument was about who would land in a relationship first, but the truth was, neither of them stood a chance.
He shook his head, amused, and decided to change.
Clad in the academy's uniform-- a crisp white shirt, tailored blue pants, a neatly-tied blue tie, and an immaculate blue blazer-- Raphael returned to the living room.
He was taken aback by the sight of Devon and Aiden, their argument forgotten, engrossed in a video game. "I thought we were already late," he quipped.
Devon dropped the gamepad onto the table, standing abruptly. "Let's go. We'll settle this when we return."
As Raphael moved toward the door, Devon called him back. He turned to find a dark, spiraling portal in the room. "Come on, Raphael," Devon beckoned, stepping into the portal.
Aiden stood before the portal, his left eye transformed into a distinctly marked red sclera and iris, a four-point pinwheel etched onto his eyeball.
Raphael approached the portal cautiously, but before he could step in, Aiden gave him a swift push.
The scene shifted to a year-1 class on campus where a slender, fair-skinned woman with brown eyes and straight brown hair stood at the head of the classroom. She was stylishly clad in a white shirt, black suit jacket, and pencil skirt. Her natural height was 5'5", but in her black high heels, she stood tall at 5'7".
"Good morning, everyone," she greeted warmly. "I trust you all enjoyed your weekend. We'll be picking up from where we left off last class."
Seventeen students - nine male and eight female - populated the classroom. As the woman spoke, the male students grinned appreciatively while the females rolled their eyes in mild disgust.
This was the infamous Miss Emily, a woman with a curvaceous figure and a generous bosom. Emily was acutely aware of the male students' wandering eyes. However, after numerous complaints, she'd resigned herself to their stares.
As long as they behaved and absorbed her teachings, she could overlook their teenage curiosity.
Suddenly, the air in the classroom thickened, the light dimmed, and for a fleeting two seconds, a dark portal materialized. It vanished as swiftly as it had appeared, leaving behind a classroom that looked as it had seconds before. But Emily frowned, her face etched with exasperation.
"Aiden! How many times must I tell you not to make your entrances like that!" Emily's voice echoed sternly across the room. The boy who had materialized from the portal smirked mischievously.
"Sorry, Miss Emily," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "On my way to school, I saw this rose. It reminded me of your enchanting beauty, so I brought it for you." He held out a vibrant red rose, but before he could present it, Emily interjected with a sharp rebuke.
"Back to your seat, Aiden!" Unfazed by the laughter that rippled through the classroom, he blinked out of sight, reappearing instantly at his usual spot, the ninth desk from the front.
No sooner than Aiden's spectacle had ended, the door opened to admit Devon and the new student, Raphael. "Good morning, Devon. And welcome, Raphael," Emily greeted them warmly. Devon, ever the silent type, simply nodded and took his seat right in front of Aiden.
"Raphael, why don't you introduce yourself?" Emily suggested, her voice as pleasant as a summer breeze.
"I'm Raphael Queen. Age fifteen," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. Emily waited a moment, but when it became clear he had no intention of elaborating, she moved on. "Welcome to the elite division, Raphael."
Just as Emily was about to commence the lesson, a voice rang out in protest. It was Jackson, a dark-haired boy with a fiery red headband cutting a bold contrast against his academy uniform.
"Miss Emily, the academy said no more students would be admitted to the elite division! There were countless applicants, all turned down. So why him?"
Emily's smile didn't waver. "If you take issue with this, Jackson, I suggest you take it up with the student council. However, I assure you the academy must have seen something extraordinary in Raphael to allow him entry."
Despite her outward calm, Emily was perplexed. The academy had staunchly rejected all recent applicants to the elite division. What could have prompted this sudden change of policy?
"This is absurd, Miss Emily," Jackson retorted, standing abruptly. "We battled our way into this division, we earned our places. It's ridiculous that he just shows up and is instantly admitted to the elite division while we had to face life-threatening tests!"
His voice echoed in the sudden silence that had fallen over the room, a potent reminder of the turbulence his words had stirred.
"The Academy prides itself on being unique, yet I can't help but suspect it's nothing more than a facade. A sham, like all those other hypocritical institutions where influence and money can buy prestige,"
The impact of his words hung heavily in the classroom, the other students' eyes widening in shock before drifting towards Emily, their instructor, waiting to see how she would respond to such a bold accusation.
An expression of surprise gave way to an inscrutable frown on Emily's face. "Jackson," she began, her voice calm yet commanding, "It seems you're harboring some strong feelings. Do you have a proposition to address this issue?"
"I challenge him to a duel," Jackson shot back, a determined gleam in his eyes. "If he can beat me, then I'll admit he has potential. If not, he should pack up and leave. Immediately."
Emily turned to Raphael, the subject of Jackson's ire. His face was the picture of tranquility, betraying no emotion. "Raphael, do you have any objections to Jackson's proposal?" she asked. At his silent shake of the head, she clapped her hands together decisively.
"Very well. After the break, we'll meet on the stage."
Emily's announcement sparked a ripple of excitement among the students. Their faces lit up in anticipation, their curiosity piqued by the unexpected confrontation.
They'd always wondered why some were accepted into the prestigious division while others were turned away. This duel might provide some answers.
Meanwhile, Raphael quietly withdrew to an empty seat, as Emily shifted the focus back to the day's lesson.
Emily was the strategic mastermind behind the elite division's education. Her syllabus spanned the gamut of strategic planning - from battlefield tactics to life skills. If it required a plan, Emily was the expert.
During her lectures, she had a unique way of keeping her students engaged. Periodically, she would break the rhythm of her discourse to pose a question, often to the young men whose eyes strayed from her face to her figure.
Correct answers were acknowledged, while incorrect ones resulted in a deduction of points. Yet, such was Emily's charisma and the richness of her teachings, that every question she posed was met with eager responses. Her students, captivated by her wisdom, were always keen to impress.
As the campus bell tolled, Emily emerged from the classroom, her face alight with a radiant smile. The end of her class provoked an energy that rippled through the crowd of male students, who began to converse amongst themselves, their words filled with anticipation for their next encounter with Emily's engaging lectures.
"Emily's class never disappoints, always leaves me yearning for more," one of the students remarked, his voice laced with a mix of admiration and excitement.
Their conversation seemed to exclude Raphael, who stood apart from the group, his gaze fixed on the window.
Breaking from the crowd, Devon and Aiden approached Raphael, their expressions serious. "Raphael," Aiden began, his voice tinged with concern, "if you're not up for this fight, just say it. I could have that jerk bedridden in no time."
Raphael, however, offered a simple shake of his head in response. His eyes, still trained on the window, held a determined gleam. "No, I'm looking forward to the battle," he retorted.
Devon interjected, his voice ringing with disbelief. "You're joking, right? Of the seven divisions here, the elite division stands unrivaled. It's filled with students so formidable that even those in the assassin and murderers division dare not cross them."
Raphael turned to Devon at this, an eyebrow raised in surprise. "I was under the impression that you couldn't speak when women were around."
"Oh, that?" Aiden replied, a smirk on his face. "If women are part of a crowd, he can manage."
Before Raphael could respond, the classroom door swung open, revealing a middle-aged man clad in a fitted black suit.
Without preamble, he began his lecture, his entrance and immediate commencement of the class radiating an authority that commanded respect. The students, their faces suddenly stern, promptly took their seats.
The intense rhythm of the class continued without interruption until the bell rang once more. With a final word, the man placed his marker on the desk and exited the room, leaving behind a tangible relief in the air.
Throughout the entirety of the class, the students had remained silent, speaking only when called upon. As the man disappeared from view, the students collectively exhaled, their tension dissipating.
"At last! Break time, let's go," one student exclaimed, the room instantly filling with a renewed buzz of energy.
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone