Shattered Blade

Hwak's first step through Neonspire's gates felt like crossing into another world. The buildings towered above him, grand and imposing. Everything gleamed—the glass windows, the polished stone, even the pathways beneath his feet.

A worker in a crisp uniform stood nearby, watching him with narrowed eyes.

"Excuse me," Hwak said politely. "Could you tell me where to find the Principal's office?"

The man looked him up and down, taking in his oversized clothes and nervous expression. He snorted.

"Kid, you're way too young to work here. Who let you in? Do you even know what academy this is?"

Hwak's cheeks burned. "I'm... I'm not here to work. I'm a student."

"A student?" The man laughed. "You'd be better off finding work as a garbage collector or waiter somewhere. You don't belong here."

"I got a scholarship," Hwak said, his voice growing smaller.

The worker's face changed. "Oh! You're one of those charity cases. Principal Vora and her soft heart." He shook his head. "Last year's scholarship kid hung himself after three months. You're not really students to them—you're just toys for the rich kids to play with."

Hwak swallowed hard, trying not to show how the words stung.

"The Principal's office is in the building straight ahead. Go in, turn right," the man finally said, already turning away.

As Hwak walked across the courtyard, he felt eyes on him from every direction. Students in expensive uniforms stared, some whispering behind their hands, others smiling in a way that didn't reach their eyes. He tried smiling back, pretending not to notice their looks.

His clothes made him stand out even more—a simple shirt and grey pants that hung loose on his frame, at least two sizes too big. His father always bought clothes that way, saying, "You're still growing, son. Buy them tight now, and they'll be too small next month."

Moving slowly and carefully, trying not to draw more attention, Hwak finally reached the Principal's office. The door was enormous, carved with intricate patterns. An elderly man sat at a desk outside.

"What's your business here?" the old man asked, not unkindly.

"Principal Vora asked to see me. I'm the scholarship student," Hwak replied.

The old man nodded and disappeared inside the office. When he returned, he said, "Wait ten minutes. The Principal is in a meeting. She'll see you after."

Hwak settled into a plush chair nearby, trying not to fidget. From outside came the roar of an engine. Through the window, he watched as a sleek Maserati pulled up. A boy stepped out—handsome, with sharp features and light green eyes that reminded Hwak of the Evolans in the advertisements. Following him was a girl with grey hair pulled into a bun, streaked with green. She wore a crop top that showed off a butterfly tattoo near her stomach and tight jeans that looked expensive.

Three boys approached from across the courtyard, greeting the newcomers with easy laughter. Together, they headed toward a field where others were playing football, moving with the casual confidence of people who had never questioned their place in the world.

The bell rang, startling Hwak from his thoughts.

"The Principal will see you now," the old man announced.

Hwak stood quickly, nervously patting down his hair. It stuck to his head in clumps, slicked with the cheap oil his father had applied that morning, trying to make him look presentable.

His heart pounded as he entered the office. Principal Vora sat behind a massive desk, her posture perfect. Behind her hung a large portrait of an Evolan—not one of the beautiful, almost human-looking ones from the advertisements, but something more insect than man.

The portrait showed a face with exoskeleton-like features, deep grooves cutting across what might have been skin once. Enormous golden-orange compound eyes dominated the face, reflecting no emotion Hwak could recognize. White hair flowed down from the head, along with a beard that gave the creature a strange, ancient appearance. Two long antennae extended upward, twitching slightly in the painted image as if sensing the air. The body was skeletal and elongated, with bony fingers and a thin torso draped in flowing white robes. Great translucent wings spread behind it, catching light like stained glass.

Below the portrait, a plaque read: "Warden Zenthyr Ka'Zoru."

Principal Vora herself was striking—one eye covered with a black patch, the other piercing blue. Her silver hair was cut short, framing a face that seemed both kind and severe at once. She wore a blue suit with a skirt that ended at her knees.

"Welcome, Hwak," she said, her voice surprisingly warm.

"Thank you, Ma'am," he replied, as his father had taught him, taking a seat across from her.

"You must be wondering why we offered you this scholarship," she began. "Each year, we select a few children from disadvantaged backgrounds—children who might otherwise never have the chance to change their circumstances. We give them the opportunity not just to improve their own lives, but the lives of generations to come."

She leaned forward slightly. "This year, we chose you. Your father's dedication to his work—his reliability, his integrity—impressed me. Here, you'll learn about insect abilities, perhaps even awaken your own. Our academy primarily serves the children of wealthy families, those destined for family businesses or private military squads tied to their family clans. But we also train recruits for the national defense forces—special cadets with no family attachments or backgrounds."

Hwak felt a chill run through him. Was that all he was to them? A future soldier with no family ties to complicate things? He felt like a puppet, suddenly seeing strings he hadn't noticed before.

Then he remembered his father's words: "Do your duty. Don't worry about the fruits of your actions."

He straightened his shoulders and looked Principal Vora in the eye. "I'm grateful for the opportunity, Ma'am. I'll do my best."