The relief is almost overwhelming, but we maintain composure as she continues.
"I will be with you shortly to take you on the official tour of the Academy and explain the requirements. Once I'm finished here."
The emphasis on 'here' makes everyone glance at Damien's group—specifically at Raven's severed remains that still decorate the ground with spreading crimson.
We nod collectively, following Zeke's lead as he rises and begins moving toward the indicated waiting area. But we all look back at Damien, who stands clenching his fists so tightly that blood—his own this time—drips from where nails pierce palms.
He's trembling with rage that has nowhere to go.
Professor Eternalis is too powerful to attack. We're protected by Academy law now that we've officially entered. His shortcut has cost him his guide in the most permanent way possible. It's not the satisfying payback I wanted for what he did to Nikki.
That would involve more personal suffering, more understanding of exactly why his cruelty has earned consequence.
But it's a start.
As we reach our designated waiting area—a section of ground that seems slightly elevated, offering view of both the Academygrounds and the scene we're leaving behind—I can't help but reflect on what just happened.
Raven is dead because she was hybrid. Because she helped others cheat. Because the Academy has rules that transcend power or connection, that collect their due regardless of who owes them.
The casual violence of it should disturb me more.
The way Professor Eternalis removed a head with the same emotional investment most people use to swat flies. How the body fell with no more ceremony than discarded trash.
But I think about all the violence we've already witnessed.
The trials that killed students whose only crime was being weak. The guardians that would have destroyed us without hesitation. The constant, grinding cruelty of an institution that values strength over everything else.
In that context, Raven's death is almost... logical.
She was hybrid, lacking the protection full-breeds enjoy. She chose to guide those who hadn't earned passage, violating fundamental Academy law. The consequence was swift, absolute, and witnessed by all who might think to try something similar.
It's horrible. It's efficient.
It's exactly what I should have expected from a place called Wicked Academy.
"That was..." Atticus starts, then stops, unable to find words for what we witnessed.
"Necessary," Mortimer finishes, though his tone suggests he's trying to convince himself as much as us. "The Academy maintains order through absolute enforcement. Without it?—"
"Without it, everyone would cheat," Zeke interjects, his tone neutral as always. "And cheating breeds weakness. Weakness breeds failure. Failure in Year Three breeds?—"
He doesn't finish, but we all understand.
Failure here doesn't mean expulsion or death, and aside from Zeke, none of us are the kind with nine lives to fall back on.
"Still," Nikolai says quietly, "No one deserves that."
The compassion in his voice makes my chest tight.
After everything Damien put him through, after the mockery and humiliation Raven participated in, he still finds room for empathy toward her.
It's more than I can manage right now.
Because when I look at Raven's severed head, still wearing that expression of fatal surprise, I don't feel sympathy.
I feel...warned.
The Academy doesn't care about our bonds, our growing power, our potential destinies. It has rules, and those rules are written in blood that can't be washed away by tears or good intentions.
