Chapter 9: Beneath the Shattered Twilight
After three days
Oliver gradually awoke from the nightmare, his senses clawing their way back to reality until he found himself screaming into the sterile silence of the academy clinic. The sharp sting of antiseptic flooded his nostrils, anchoring him to the cold, white-walled infirmary.
"Are you alright, Oliver?" His aunt's voice trembled like a leaf in a storm, her fingers gripping the edge of his blanket.
"Yes… It was just a dream," he replied, wiping the cold sweat from his brow.
*I wish it were just a dream*, he thought, biting his lip.
The remnants of the nightmare clung to him: **a black banner with a white flower at its center** fluttering above a gnarled tree, and the image of the tortured man in the metallic room—his arms bound, a **serpent tattoo coiled around a dot** on his chest, as if strangling his soul. The details had faded upon waking, but they burned in his memory.
"Oliver, why are you spacing out?" His aunt leaned closer, narrowing her eyes.
"I saw… something," he whispered, catching his breath. "A serpent swirling around a dot, like a seal on a corpse's chest."
"Training, Aunt," he forced a laugh, scratching his head. "I think we might've pissed off the instructor a bit."
*How did they even let you in?*
"The truth is," she sighed, "all students' families were summoned by the administration for something urgent. I don't know why."
"I do," Oliver muttered, clutching the bedsheet until his knuckles whitened.
*It's finally happening.*
---
**Beneath the Great Dome:**
At that moment, an armored vehicle rumbled through a winding glass tunnel beneath the dome, its gears growling like a beast. Through the translucent walls, the neon-lit underbelly of Bath City sprawled into view, shadows dancing between rusted pipes.
"My Lord Leonidas, we approach the city gates," a soldier announced, his voice muffled by clanking machinery.
"Good," Leonidas smirked, flipping through a dossier stamped with crimson wax seals. "Time to recruit fresh blood for our Legion." His gloved finger paused on a page titled *Promising Candidates*.
"Sir, why come yourself this time?" The soldier hesitated, adjusting his gas mask.
Leonidas's smile widened, reflected in the tunnel's glass like a predator's grin.
"I suspect this city hides… *interesting* things. Souls here are ripe for shaping."
---
**At the Gates:**
When the armored vehicle arrived, a low-ranking soldier stepped forward.
"Welcome, Lord Leonidas. We were informed of your arrival," the soldier said, bowing.
Leonidas's servant replied curtly:
"My lord is weary. Direct us to our quarters. We have urgent matters."
"Of course, my lords. This way," the soldier gestured.
House Voss members stepped out, their polished boots crunching gravel as they followed. They passed a withered tree glowing faintly under the city's perpetual twilight.
"The City Commander awaits you at the academy. Please follow me," the soldier said, avoiding eye contact.
"Why didn't he greet us himself?" demanded a Voss noble.
"There have been… complications, my lord. He's resolving them now," the soldier stammered.
---
**The Banquet Hall:**
An hour later, Oliver gathered with friends and family in the lavishly decorated hall. The air reeked of roasted meat and spiced wine, a stark contrast to the academy's sterile halls.
"Damn, the food almost smells decent for once," Max remarked, prodding a glazed pheasant with his dagger.