Marcus

The Academy of Death has always been a place where mistakes meant pain, and carelessness meant death. Every step here was checked, every word was weighed, because the slightest weakness could be the last.

"You're going to the city," Master Lin's voice sounded cold, as if it cut through the skin, "and you'll come back with evidence of the murder of an influential person. Or you won't come back at all.

You feel a chill run down your spine. Marcus stands next to you, the only one you trust in these walls. You see his gaze, and it says the same thing as yours: you are not ready.

• Are you sure you can handle it? - he whispers as you leave the classroom.

You want to answer something bold, cheerful, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you just shake your head:

• No. But we have no choice.

The corridors of the Academy are deserted, only rare shadows slide along the walls. Marcus stops, takes out a bat studded with nails from under his jacket.

“Then at least stay closer to me,” he grabs the handle, checking the weight. “If anything… I’ll try.”

It sounds so pathetic... Will try - is when you are not sure. When the chances are zero. When you already know that you have lost.

“Great,” you squeeze the knife in your pocket, “then we’ll die together.”

He snorts.

— You couldn’t imagine a worse company.