Clyde was now alone in a hallway. Strangely, it seemed infinite. No matter how fast he ran, he still couldn't find the end of the corridor. Every step felt identical to the one before it, as if the space looped endlessly into itself.
The strange girl who had been watching him walked past with a calm, effortless gait. Clyde froze for a moment, studying her silhouette. Strange… why did she take me here? Is she scheming something? His mind raced, but no answer came.
He activated his hollow eyes. They deepened into a violet glow. His astral card's symbol manifested faintly, hovering as an ethereal sigil, and lunar ichor waves began fluctuating around him, flowing and oscillating in constant motion. The air itself seemed alive, vibrating in resonance with his pulse.
Clyde focused, measuring the amplitude of the waves around him. If I attack the wave with the same amplitude, it should cancel it out… Slowly, deliberately, he resonated his lunar ichor into his fist and closed his eyes, feeling the ebb and flow of the surrounding energy perfectly mirrored.
When he opened his eyes, they shone with concentrated violet intensity. He swung his fist at the wall. But instead of shattering, the wall remained intact—the air itself fractured around the point of impact. The amplitude of the waves canceled each other, and in an instant, Clyde found himself behind Cristae Academy, the courtyard sprawling before him.
He froze, sensing a strange energy. With his hollow eyes, he could see through walls, detecting faint thermal radiation from the students scattered across the courtyard. The more lunar ichor he resonated with, the sharper his vision became. Beyond the nearest wall, he sensed a familiar presence—Marlowe.
The door swung open. "Where were you?" Marlowe's voice cut sharply through the quiet courtyard.
"Let's talk in the dorm," Clyde replied, calm but tense.
"We have lessons to attend," Marlowe said, frowning. "Let's talk later after class."
Clyde nodded. Together, they returned to class. Clyde's attention immediately fell on the girl who had ensnared him in the hallway. She sat quietly, eyes fixed on her desk, but he could feel the subtle fluctuations of her lunar ichor. Something about her aura set him on edge.
Then he noticed something else. Cedric was missing.
The teacher's gaze swept the room and landed on Clyde. Maelis's finger jabbed toward him.
"That student," he said, "tell me, do you know how interference works?"
Clyde straightened. "A phenomenon when both waves overlap," he replied. Inwardly, he reflected on the earlier hallway illusion—he had just applied destructive interference to nullify the waves trapping him.
Maelis nodded, satisfaction clear on his face. "Correct. There are two types of interference: destructive and constructive."
A wrinkled piece of paper struck Clyde on the head. He unfolded it.
Bro, where did you go? We were trying to find you.
Clyde quickly scribbled a reply and tossed it to Aurelian: We will talk about this later.
Aurelian nodded silently. The lecture continued for an hour, minutes stretching long and heavy.
When the lecture ended, the four of them exited the classroom. Eira, Marlowe, and Aurelian immediately asked, "Where did you go?"
"I was trapped in an illusion," Clyde said. "Is there an ichor that controls illusions?"
Aurelian's expression darkened. "I've heard of a divine ichor called Reverie. It manipulates a specific frequency and amplitude to simulate your brain, making you hallucinate. The only way to counter it is with an earbud that blocks external frequencies—or precise lunar ichor to disrupt the illusion at a molecular level. Did someone cast this on you?"
"Yes," Clyde said. "The girl behind me. When I followed her in the hallway, it felt like the corridor never ended."
Eira frowned. "I think she's trying to drive you insane. Humans trapped in endless spaces experience emotional instability, which can push them toward becoming a Howling."
"Why don't you use your hollow eyes to check if she's a Howling?" Marlowe asked sharply.
Clyde's hollow eyes flared. Her frequency seemed normal at first, but her lunar ichor fluctuated. It wasn't stable.
"So what do you see?" Aurelian leaned in.
"Her ichor is unstable. There's a chance… she's turning into a Howling," Clyde said.
"Not quite yet, but it's possible," Marlowe added cautiously.
Clyde's gaze shifted. "What about Cedric? Why isn't he in class today?"
Eira's eyes darkened. "I killed him. He was a Howling, but not the one we're searching for."
Clyde's attention flicked to another classroom. A dark aura radiated from within. His body went cold.
"What's wrong?" Aurelian asked.
Clyde pointed. "Everyone in that class is a Howling."
Shock rippled through the group.
"Twenty-two Howlings… all at once," Marlowe said tightly.
"We'll hunt them later, once there aren't crowds of students," Eira said.
The moon hung high, painting the sky in deep silver. The sun was gone, dead, leaving the moon goddess as the only light.
Inside Eira's dorm, the team gathered to plan.
"We need to split into groups to eliminate the Howlings quickly," Eira said. "Aurelian and I will hunt outdoors. Marlowe and Clyde, you handle the indoors."
Everyone nodded, tension thick in the air.
Marlowe gestured to a classroom. "Clyde, you'll start here."
Clyde entered cautiously. A cold unease settled over him. Something lurked in the shadows.
His hollow eyes flared, lightning-like violet energy sharpening his vision. Every pulse of lunar ichor that rippled through him resonated with the room. There's more than one, he thought. The first Howling had fallen, but twenty-one remained. Faint thermal signatures shimmered through walls, flickering like broken stars.
Clyde crouched, letting resonance flow through his body. Each Howling felt connected by invisible threads of ichor. Some hid behind desks, others near walls, their corrupted hearts pulsing faintly. He shivered—this wasn't just a fight. It was a maze of living darkness.
A crunch echoed behind him. He pivoted sharply. Another Howling emerged, dragging the remnants of a card along the floor. Its eyes locked on him. For a heartbeat, everything froze—the only sound was the low vibration of his own heartbeat resonating in his hollow senses.
He clenched his fist, lunar ichor flowing like molten silver into a pencil. Resonance… precision… balance… Every Howling, every corrupted sigil, part of the same canvas. He had to strike in perfect harmony.
The Howling lunged. Clyde moved instinctively, throwing the pencil with perfect timing. It pierced the corrupted heart, shattering the lunar sigil in a flash of violet light. The creature collapsed, aura dissipating in ripples he could feel through the floor.
He scanned again. Twenty-one left. Shadows curled like smoke around the desks. The Howlings were clever, some waiting for him to make a mistake.
Clyde darted from shadow to shadow, each move precise. The Howlings fell one by one, lunar sigils shattering under his controlled resonance. His arms ached, but the energy coursing through him pushed him forward.
Finally, silence. The room was empty of Howlings, only faint residual ichor lingering. Clyde's hollow eyes dimmed.
He exhaled, trembling slightly, the taste of victory bitter and cold. This is only the beginning. If there are twenty-two Howlings here… how many more are out there? And that girl… she's still a threat.
The hollow star card in his chest pulsed softly, a quiet reminder of the battles yet to come. Clyde stepped toward the doorway, readying himself for what waited outside, under the silver glow of the moon.