The first rays of sunlight had barely just crossed the horizon, bathen blanket of snow that had already settled over the General's estate in warm golden light
The world was silent, as if it were appreciating the calm scenery, Not a single breeze disturbed the delicate flakes drifting from the sky, leaving the training yard covered in an untouched sheet of white.
Crunch.
A lone set of footprints carved a path through the snow fields.
Crunch...
Crunch.....
They led to a modest training hall tucked away behind the residence, where silence quickly gave way to the rhythmic sound of controlled but rugged breathing.
"...One hundred... and ninety-one."
Azrael lowered himself until his chest hovered just above the wooden floor before driving himself back up with one arm.
"...One... hundred... and ninety-two."
Sweat dripped from his jaw despite the winter cold.
His left arm trembled violently.
He ignored it.
At the entrance to the hall, several maids had gathered as they did every morning.
"He's at it again..."
"Didn't he already finish his run?"
"I think this is his fourth set already."
"Gosh he's so cool!." Another maid let out a dreamy sigh with flushed cheeks.
"...No wonder all the girls in town keep staring at him."
A second rolled her eyes, "It's a wonder how someone can be so perfect yet un-romantic."
"I swear, if he keeps training like this, he'll grow old without ever realizing someone confessed to him." The first said while shedding an exaggerated tear.
Soft laughter spread among them as they whispered, trying not to break his concentration as they stood well out of hearing distance from their young master.
Then...
Heavy footsteps echoed from the staircase leading into the courtyard.
The laughter stopped almost instantly.
The maids instinctively straightened.
"...Good morning, General—"
The man acknowledged them with a small wave but never slowed his pace.
Instead, he walked straight toward the young man whose entire world had narrowed to one final repetition.
"...One... hundred... and ninety-nine."
Azrael inhaled.
'One more.' he thought descending to the floor once more.
"Two... Hun-"
CRASHH!!
A polished military boot came down squarely on his back, with enough force to even dent the wooden floor as he crashed face first into it.
"..."
"..."
The General calmly took a sip from the steaming mug in his hand.
"Morning kiddo."
Azrael remained motionless for several seconds, twitching from the sudden stomp amidst his training.
"...You... Demon....."
"Morning kiddo."
"Get off me!."
"Morning Kiddo."
"..."
"..."
"Morning Old man."
The man finally grinned as he removed his foot from the lad's back.
"That's my boy."
"Hmmmmm"
"You've been overtraining again Azrael, even today of all days."
"I mean I was excited." Azrael murmured.
"You might be the only person I know who gets excited to for school?" The man said with a shriek as he stared down Azrael's physique.
As far as human standards went Azrael was considered a very handsome young man, sometimes even called beautiful which wasn't exactly wrong.
He stood just at average height with unusually long raven dark hair that reached all the way to his back when untied and coupled the purple irises that seemed to grow with vigor and with the light muscular frame he'd built over the years, he really was a force of nature as far as looks went.
Azrael finally pushed himself upright, rubbing the back of his neck. The man in front of him was his foster father, Leonhardt von Claire, his foster father for as long as he could remember. Compared to Azrael's physique, this guy was a monster in every right, draped in his regal golden-white attire with a matching coat hanging on his back like your usual general, this man was as tall as gorilla, sure he was handsome but his defining features were the huge muscles that fit tightly to his attire underneath the cloak.
Ariel stared in silence before finally replying the man "...Yeah maybe... Unlike the school I originally planned on attending... This one isn't normal."
Leonhardt grinned widely as he began walking back towards the door while while Azrael removed his hair band and let his full hair fall, making the maids that returned to watch "Aww" uncontrollably.
"I should go prepare."
°°°°°°
Steam still lingered in the bathroom as Azrael stepped back into his room, drying his hair with a towel.
His eyes wandered to the neatly folded clothes resting on the edge of his bed.
His room was sparsely decorated for a boy his age, Nothing that suggested he was particularly into anything.
Azrael stared at the desk, where his phone sat peacefully on the neatly stacked books.
"8 : 30... 30 minutes left."
He donned a pair of black jeans, a black shirt, followed by a dark jacket before fastening the straps around his wrists.
He stared at himself in the mirror, his violet eyes glistening slightly under the morning sun.
"..."
It still felt strange.
Just two weeks ago, he'd been preparing for his military enlistment.
Now he was to attend one of those special academies instead.
As he adjusted the collar of his jacket, his thoughts drifted.
Until exactly two weeks ago, he had been part of the overwhelming majority of humanity—people born without a Luminous Core.
"People who could never manifest an Armakyte..." He whispered.
Some scientists believed Armakytes were the physical embodiment of one's deepest desires.
Others claimed they were the soul given form.
Whatever the truth, every theory agreed on one thing.
Their existence was inseparable from Odic Force.
Azrael's gaze shifted toward the bedroom window.
Far beyond the city, a colossal tear scarred the heavens.
Even from this distance, it dwarfed the tallest skyscrapers beneath it, making them look like Lego figures compared to it
Several hundred years ago, that wound in the sky hadn't existed.
'Records say the space itsel cracked open, leaving behind these... Rifts.'
History remembered that day by a single name—
The Singularity.
Azrael looked away from the window and let out a quiet sigh and rubbed his temples as a certain memory from few days ago resurfaced.
"..."
"I just hope the old man picked somewhere decent." He murmured before leaving the room fully packed up and ready to go.
"This should be fun."
°°°°°°
*The next day...
A bulge appeared on Azrael's forehead as he looked at what would be his new school from now on.
"Silver... Creek Academy..." He murmured in a cold controlled tone that clearly hinted irritation as he forced a smile, ""Damn it old man.... What kid of a sick joke is this!!"