The First Fracture

The afternoon air felt heavier than usual. Shizukesa could not explain why, but something in the atmosphere pressed faintly against his chest, as though the world itself had shifted half a step out of place.

The group had just finished lunch, seated under the shade of a large maple tree near the training fields. Students passed by in clusters, chattering and laughing, unaware of the unease lingering around the Prism Guild.

Aki sat cross-legged, eating two sandwiches at once. Rin polished his wooden sword with careful precision. Mira flipped through a book, although her eyes barely moved across the page. She was distracted.

Shizukesa simply sat with his lunch untouched.

“I am not hungry,” he murmured when Aki nudged him.

Aki frowned. “You should still eat something. Food gives you energy. Maybe petals need calories.”

“Nothing in science supports that,” Rin said without looking up.

“It could, though,” Aki insisted.

“No, it could not.”

“It could if you opened your mind.”

“My mind is open to logic.”

Aki groaned theatrically and flopped back onto the grass. Shizukesa watched her for a moment, unsure if she was exaggerating or genuinely offended.

Mira snapped her book shut gently. “Something feels strange. The air is unsettled.”

Shizukesa turned to her. “Unsettled?”

Mira nodded slowly. “There is emotional static. Someone nearby is losing control.”

Before Shizukesa could ask more, a piercing alarm sounded across the academy grounds. Students gasped, teachers flinched, and a wave of panic moved through the courtyard.

Rin stood immediately. “That is a beast alert.”

Aki dropped her sandwiches. “Already? On the second day?”

Mira’s voice trembled slightly. “It is close.”

Shizukesa felt something strange. A faint chill slid down his spine. He recognised the sensation from the history lesson, the same uneasy pressure that corrupted creatures radiated.

A roar echoed across the courtyard.

Students screamed and scattered.

A twisted, dog-like shape crawled onto the training field. Its body was covered in dark emotional smoke that shifted like oil in water. Its eyes were hollow. Its limbs were jagged and uneven, bending in ways that hurt to look at.

A corrupted beast.

A teacher near the field cursed under his breath and shouted for everyone to move back.

Aki grabbed Shizukesa’s sleeve. “Stay behind us.”

Shizukesa stared at the creature. His heart was steady, far too steady.

“I am not afraid,” he said softly.

Mira looked at him. “You should be.”

The beast screeched and lunged toward a group of first-years frozen in shock.

Rin reacted first.

He sprinted forward, sword drawn, cutting across the field with fast, clean steps. He reached the students and pushed them back with one arm before raising his weapon.

The beast pounced.

Rin met it head-on, slashing across its side. The strike connected but barely cut through its corrupted surface. The creature reeled and shrieked.

Rin glared at it with fierce determination.

“You picked the wrong academy,” he said. “I refuse to be powerless in the face of danger.”

The words were spoken with complete certainty, strong enough that even the fleeing students paused. He raised his sword again.

“There is pride in standing firm,” Rin said, “even when the world thinks you cannot.”

The quote hit Shizukesa like a stone dropped into still water. Something in him shifted, an internal echo of Rin’s conviction.

The beast lunged again.

Aki shot forward, her hands glowing with raw Ember energy. She hurled a burst of emotional force that knocked the beast sideways, buying Rin time.

Her voice shook, but she shouted anyway. “Rin, move!”

Mira placed a hand on the ground, calming the emotional wavelength around them. The beast hesitated for a moment, its unstable body flickering.

Shizukesa stepped forward without thinking.

“Shizuk