Elias gritted his teeth, Elyndra's laughter raining down on him without remorse.
The tiny menace was sprawled across his hair, kicking her legs, ruffling it with absolutely no regard for his dignity—or what little remained of it.
"Honestly," she said between giggles, wings fluttering wildly, "it would've been better if she punched a hole straight through that annoying mouth of yours. But having you bark like a dog?" She clutched her stomach, barely holding herself together. "It was perfect. You—" she gasped, pointing at him, "—you actually went woof woof!"
"Shut up."
That only made it worse.
Elyndra doubled over, laughter spilling out of her in uncontrollable bursts, her tiny wings buzzing like they might just fly off her back.
Elias dragged a hand down his face.
Of course she was enjoying this. Of course she was.
If embarrassment could kill, he would've been buried already—with Elyndra dancing on his grave.
The worst part?
He'd seen it coming. Somewhere, deep down, a sensible voice had whispered, This is a terrible idea. And like the genius he was, he'd ignored it completely.
Because really—what was so hard about taking a joke?
Women were confusing.
No, seriously. Confusing.
And look, if—if—she had said yes, then ahem... let's not pretend he was about to walk away. He wasn't an idiot. When a walking, talking money-making opportunity dropped right in front of you, you didn't start asking philosophical questions. You picked it up and said thank you.
Which, unfortunately, brought him right back to reality.
Because the girl in question wasn't just any girl.
The Vangrovas weren't just rich—they were the kind of rich that made other rich families look like they were still figuring things out. Their influence stretched across North America, threading its way into parts of Asia and Europe like roots that just kept growing. One day it was something as simple as shoelaces. The next, it was technology advanced enough to make governments nervous.
And the strangest part?
There was only ever one of them.
No side branches. No cousins fighting in the shadows. Just a single, direct line. The head of the family had one rule—one heir. No more, no less. No room for power struggles. No room for mistakes.
Which meant there was almost no one who didn't know her name.
Nina Vangrova.
The heiress.
A girl destined to be—well... filthy, absurdly rich.
The Vangrovas had kept her tucked away from the public eye for years, like something too valuable to display carelessly. But when she turned nine and awakened, they let the world see her—just once.
And somehow, that one appearance was enough.
Elias still remembered it.
The interviewer had been all smiles at first. Calm. Polished. In control.
Then Nina tilted her head, eyes bright with something that definitely wasn't innocence, and said:
"I heard you telling your assistant about how you had great sex last night."
The man froze.
"But sex means male or female, right?" she continued, completely unfazed. "You made it sound like something else though... can I know?"
Silence.
Absolute, devastating silence.
Elias could still picture it—his father blinking like his brain had shut down, his mother gasping before slapping her hands over Elias's ears like that would somehow undo what had already been said.
And Nina?
Nina had just sat there, watching.
Waiting.
That girl had known exactly what she was doing.
Elias exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly.
Yeah... she'd definitely done it on purpose. Just to watch the poor guy freak his guts out.
"—But I didn't say anything?"
Eric's voice cut in, confused and a little defensive.
Elias blinked, dragged back to the present. "No, not you..."
They stood in a short, sluggish line outside the male bathroom, the air thick with steam. The sound of running showers echoed through the space, water hitting tile in a constant, dull rhythm.
Elias's gaze shifted, narrowing slightly.
Some of the boys had taken over entire sections of the bathroom—claimed them, like territory. And no one else even tried to argue. No complaints. No pushing back.
Just quiet acceptance.
His eyes landed on the reason why.
Damon's group.
They didn't just stand out—they announced themselves. Loud, obnoxious, like they owned the place and everyone in it.
Raven and Claw had a blue-haired boy pinned against the marble wall, one hand each on his shoulders, holding him there like he weighed nothing. The boy's ear piercings glinted faintly under the lights as he struggled, panic written all over his face.
Whatever they were about to do to him...
It wasn't going to be pretty.
Further in, Anthony and Damon had each taken a bathroom for themselves, doors shut, completely unbothered—while everyone else stood outside, waiting for scraps of space like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Elias shifted slightly, eyes narrowing as he took in the room again.
Damon and his idiots weren't the only ones carving out territory.
A boy with messy green hair had slipped into one of the bathrooms earlier, and just like that—no one else went near it. Not even a glance, not even a mutter of complaint.
The guy looked... off.
His fingers were too long. Not in a subtle way either—noticeably wrong. And those eyes... sharp, intense, like they were always looking through you instead of at you.
But what really sealed it were the ripples.
They rolled off him in slow, heavy waves, thick enough that even standing at a distance, Elias could feel it pressing faintly against his skin.
A warning.
A very clear one.
Challenge him, and you're asking for trouble.
Elias exhaled quietly and looked away.
Yeah. Not worth it.
Then there was the other one.
Blonde hair, tied back into a loose ponytail. Yellow irises that caught the light just enough to feel wrong. He'd taken another bathroom without a word, moving like he could barely keep himself upright.
He walked like he was drunk—steps uneven, shoulders loose, like he might collapse any second.
But the closer you got to him...
The worse it felt.
Those same ripples spread out from his body, but unlike the green-haired guy's, these were... draining.
Elias frowned slightly.
It wasn't just discomfort.
It was like your energy was being quietly peeled away the longer you stayed near him.
Even now, just watching him—
Elias blinked, dragging his gaze away.
—yeah. No.
Looking too long made his head feel heavy. It gave him the unsettling illusion of feeling dead tired.
"...Are we seriously going to stand here for hours just to use the bathroom?" Elias muttered, his eyebrow twitching as he stared at the unmoving line in front of him. It hadn't shifted in ten whole minutes. "I didn't know taking a shower and having a piss could turn into a full-time job."
Eric didn't even bother looking concerned. He just waved lazily, a thin blade of tea grass hanging from his lips like he had all the time in the world.
"You can always go challenge them for a spot," he said.
Elias turned slowly, staring at him.
Deadpan.
"And if I could, do you really think I'd still be standing here?"
Eric stretched, leaning his back against the marble wall. "But you're super strong. You punched Damon—"
"What are you saying?" a voice cut in from the front.
The guy ahead of Elias turned around, freckles scattered across his damp face, hair clinging to his forehead from the steam.
"The dude got destroyed," he said, way too casually. Then he grinned. "But I'll give you this—you take hits pretty well. Didn't even scream."
Elias's face twisted before he could stop it.
"Mind your business, you bastard!"
Behind him, Eric immediately burst into song.
Loud.
Off-key.
Completely committed.
Snack snack snack my brain, why's it thinking weird again..."
Elias didn't respond.
Instead, his gaze drifted back to the row of bathrooms Damon and his group had claimed as their own. The steady sound of running water echoed faintly from inside Damon's and Anthony's stalls, blending with the low hum of steam seeping into the corridor.
Elias's eyes lingered there for a moment longer than necessary.
Then something clicked.
A thought.
Slow at first... then sharper.
His lips twitched slightly.
Somehow... this gave him an idea.
A very specific kind of idea.
The kind that didn't just solve a problem—but paid people back for creating it.
Ugly.
Petty.
Unforgiving.
And, most importantly...
Very likely to work.
***
The lights were off.
The cabin sat in complete darkness now, swallowed by silence except for the quiet rhythm of breathing and the occasional soft snore. Sleeping bags were scattered across the floor, bodies curled up in corners where exhaustion had finally won.
Everyone was asleep.
Well... almost everyone.
Elias wasn't.
He lay against the wall, eyes open, staring into nothing as he slowly brought up the faint interface in his mind.
A translucent tab flickered into existence.
[Mental Strength: 1200/1200]
Full.
Recovered.
Ready.
From now on, though, he would have to stop talking.
Because what he was about to do...
...was step into a Mirrorth.
And hunt Echoforms.
A soft shimmer of light gathered in front of him.
Elyndra appeared, her usual energy replaced by something quieter. Her wings barely moved, and for once, her expression wasn't playful.
She frowned.
"Are you sure about this?"
Elias knew why she was asking.
Beginner Novices had no business fighting Echoforms. At that stage, the most they could do was passively influence the emotions of others through the ripples generated by their Dormant Resonance Strings.
Useful in daily interactions... maybe.
In a fight against Echoforms? Not really.
Most Novices relied on their families to supply Echoform Fragments so they could advance in rank. Others joined a Chorus—groups that functioned like hunting parties—entering Mirrorths together to take on Echoforms as a unit.
It wasn't until the Apprentice stage that things began to change.
At that level, Resonance Strings could produce short, controlled pulses that reflected a person's emotional wavelength. Even then, it was only just enough to handle Echoforms—barely.
Elias and Elyndra both understood that.
However they both also knew he wasn't an ordinary Novice.
Not by a long shot.
A memory surfaced in his mind.
His class.
[Class: Silent Thread
Description:
You are able to devour minor dissonances—Echoform fragments and Broken Songs—provided the Echoform is not two ranks above you.
Devoured dissonance is stored within your Harmonic Core as a single thread.
Accumulated threads will advance your class rank.]
What this meant was that while he might be helpless against other Chordbearers, his class made him especially dangerous to Echoforms.
That was the trade-off.
The only problem Elias had with all of this was simple—he didn't know how to activate that devouring ability of his.
No instructions. No guidance.
Nothing.
And the only way to figure it out?
Face an Echoform and learn the hard way.
Elias exhaled slowly.
He was nervous. Not the kind people pretended to be for show—the real kind. The kind that settled in your chest and didn't go away no matter how much you tried to ignore it.
But he didn't have a choice.
Being labeled defective meant no Chorus would take him in. No team, no support, no shared hunts. Just rejection, over and over again.
And the Academy?
They wouldn't provide him Echoform fragments either. In their eyes, he didn't have the potential to justify it.
So the options were painfully clear.
Take this step…
…or slowly fade into nothing, stuck in the same place while everyone else moved forward.
Elias's jaw tightened slightly.
The tiny gremlin must have read his mind, because Elyndra drifted closer, arms crossed, cheeks puffed out in exaggerated annoyance.
"Try not to die," she said, huffing. "I have absolutely no intention of getting whisked out of existence because of you. Someone as fabulous as I am should be around for a very long time."
Elias rolled his eyes, his voice dry as it echoed in his mind. 'Thanks for the concern, I guess.'
Elyndra clicked her tongue in response, folding her arms and turning her face away with a small snort.
Elias didn't reply.
He took a slow breath in.
And in that same breath—
He vanished.
The space he had been occupying fell empty, as if he had never been there at all.
A few meters away, in the dim darkness of the cabin, a pair of eyes remained fixed on that exact spot.
Unblinking.
A faint outline of golden hair shifted slightly, barely visible in the shadows.
"…Who the hell are you, Elias Verdan…"