Angel stood tense, his posture alert as he faced the woman in front of him. Her name was Seraphina—tall, sharp-eyed, and far too casual for the situation. His muscles coiled in anticipation, ready for anything.
"Kid, calm down. I'm not going to hurt you," Seraphina said with a soft chuckle, fishing a piece of gum from her pocket and popping it into her mouth as if this were just another casual evening.
"I want to leave," Angel said firmly. "My parents... they're probably worried. I haven't been home since this morning."
"You don't have to worry about that," came another voice. Julian stepped into the room from behind the doorway, holding a phone to his ear. He ended the call and lowered it. "We just spoke to your mom."
Angel's eyes widened. "Wait—that's my phone!" he shouted, voice rising as he stepped forward. "Give it back!"
Julian arched an eyebrow and tossed the device through the air. "Chill out. Here."
Angel snatched it mid-flight, his fingers curling tightly around it. A flash of something primal stirred in his eyes—crimson shimmered in his pupils, sharp and unnatural. Seraphina caught it immediately.
"I knew it," she muttered, her casual tone suddenly hardening. "Those eyes... you're really a pureblood."
Angel blinked, confused. "What do you mean by that?"
"Don't worry about it for now," Seraphina replied, brushing the comment off as she turned away. "You'll get your answers soon. For now, come with us. There's a bunch of old geezers who want a look at you."
Angel hesitated, then gave a silent nod, still guarded as he followed behind. They moved through the long marble hallways of the academy, dimly lit by enchanted lanterns suspended in the air. As they walked, students passed by, some casting glances filled with curiosity or unease. Others ignored him entirely, too absorbed in practicing their powers—flashes of elemental magic, levitating objects, glowing sigils hovering midair.
After a few minutes of silence, Julian looked over his shoulder with a smile. "Anything you want to ask about this place?"
Angel looked around, trying to process the strangeness of it all. "Are... all of these students like the ones in novels? With powers and hidden bloodlines?"
Julian chuckled. "Pretty close, honestly. Everyone here has a story. Most are descendants of supernatural bloodlines—vampires, witches, demons, even fallen angels. The academy was built to house those who don't quite belong in the normal world."
"Why?" Angel asked, frowning. "Why build a school for people like that?"
Julian's gaze turned ahead, voice growing more solemn. "Because the world doesn't treat us kindly. If you're different, you're feared. If you're feared, you're hated. Some of us were born with power we never asked for. The academy became a haven for people like us—a place where you don't have to hide who you are."
Angel looked down, his thoughts drifting. He remembered Airi—her voice screaming at him, calling him a monster after what happened. He swallowed hard.
"It would be... lonely," he whispered.
Julian nodded. "It is. Or it was, until I came here."
Before Angel could respond, Seraphina cut in, her tone abrupt. "We're here."
They stood in front of a massive, cylindrical stone building guarded by figures in dark cloaks. Their faces were obscured, but the glint of firearms was unmistakable. The air was heavy with tension.
One of the guards stepped forward. "State your purpose and the one summoned."
"We're here under the summon of the Unitas Board," Seraphina said, her voice steady. "Regarding the boy."
The guard's eyes narrowed, then widened slightly as he signaled the others. The massive doors behind him creaked open.
Angel's fists clenched. Whatever was ahead, he had no choice now.
The interior of the Council Chamber was vast, built like a cathedral with towering pillars and banners displaying ancient sigils. The chamber had two levels: the upper floor held the Unitas Council—composed of representatives from various supernatural factions. The lower level, the trial floor, was empty save for one individual.
Him.
Angel stepped into the circle at the center of the ground floor. Dozens of eyes fell on him, heavy and judging. He could feel the weight of their gazes pressing into his shoulders.
"So that's the unknown pureblood?" a voice called out.
A tall man with silver-white hair and crimson pupils stood, dressed in black robes with a blade sheathed at his hip. His gaze was sharp enough to cut.
"As expected of Lord Vincent Thorne," someone whispered. "He always breaks the silence first."
"We now begin the hearing regarding the status and existence of the unknown pureblood, Angel Hughes," declared Cassian Vance, the elder leader of the Mage faction. His white robes shimmered with arcane embroidery. "Angel Hughes, you are to speak only the truth in this chamber. The Council will now deliberate."
Angel swallowed, the pressure nearly unbearable.
Seraphina stepped forward. "Angel Hughes. Seventeen. Raised in Saitama, Japan before moving to Rome, Italy. Parents are confirmed humans—no vampire ancestry on record."
"Then how the hell did he end up with pureblood traits?" snapped Natalia Alistair, flipping a magnum in her hand as if it were a toy. Her gaze was skeptical and sharp.
"Whatever the method, those eyes don't lie," said Fred Corvus, his massive greatsword resting across his shoulder. "He is a pureblood, whether you like it or not. Denying that would be spitting on truth."
"You Council types love your debates, but you'll get no answer like this," came a voice from above.
Everyone looked up as a figure leapt from the upper floor, landing with a heavy thud. He wore a dark hood, his face obscured, his posture too relaxed for such a high-stakes trial.
"Francisco Lazarus," someone muttered. "That mad dog from the House of Lazarus. He's going to get that boy killed."
Francisco ignored them all. He strode directly toward Angel, eyes glowing faintly red as he pulled a sidearm from his waist.
"Francisco!" Cassian roared. "Return to your seat! That behavior will not be tolerated!"
Francisco didn't even flinch. "Shut it, old man. I only answer to him—and him alone."
Angel froze as the man stood just a breath away. The killing intent pouring from Francisco was suffocating. His body trembled as Francisco extended a hand, dark magic circling his palm like smoke.
"I'll find out what's inside you myself."
He plunged into Angel's mind with a pulse of demonic magic, invading his consciousness in an instant. But what he found there wasn't what he expected.
A figure stood within the dark recess of Angel's soul—a man cloaked in shadows, wearing an elegant suit, a wicked grin curled on his lips. The aura that surrounded him was ancient, commanding, and maddening.
Francisco's eyes widened as he fell to one knee.
"Heh… ha… hahaha…" The man let out a wild laugh that echoed through the mental space—and even into the waking world. The council watched Francisco's sudden fit with alarm.
"O great lord… Moriarty..." Francisco whispered, baring his fanged teeth in reverence. "You live… within this boy?"
He knelt on the chamber floor, head bowed in front of Angel, his expression twisted into an unsettling smile.