The first day passed.
By the second, things had settled barely.
The chaos had not ended. People still killed each other without hesitation, but something had changed. The violence was no longer random. It had begun to organize itself. Intent replaced impulse. Structure replaced frenzy.
Groups—small, insignificant ones—started forming across the academy. They exchanged information, tested alliances, and planned.
"What do you want?" a woman asked, her tone flat as she faced a man standing a few steps away.
"I heard you've been waiting for a chance to kill Oliver," the man said casually. "Guess what."
The woman raised an eyebrow, slowly crossing her arms as she studied him.
"The Crimson Devils are gone," he continued. "Completely dismantled. Which means Oliver is alone. No protection. No one to fall back on."
A pause.
"We can ambush him now."
The woman's gaze lingered on him for a moment before shifting briefly to her group, then back.
"…Alright," she muttered. "I'm listening."
Across the academy, similar conversations unfolded. As plans formed with targets were assigned and killing becoming deliberate.
In a warehouse near the library, darkness pooled heavily in every corner of the room. At its center sat Mary, her posture rigid, one leg crossed over the other as she tapped a long nail against the arm of her chair in a steady, controlled rhythm.
Before her stood rows upon rows of members—thousands—dressed uniformly in dark suits beneath long coats, their presence silent and disciplined.
"Is what I'm hearing true?" Mary asked.
Her voice was light, almost delicate yet it carried effortlessly across the entire room.
"Did Oliver dismantle his entire gang?"
One member stepped forward.
"That is correct, ma'am. Reports confirm that Oliver has destroyed the Crimson Devils completely."
Mary's gaze sharpened.
"How long has that gang existed?"
"It was founded in the year 875." The member said.
Mary's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…That would make it over three centuries."
A pause settled over the room.
"That arrogant bastard…" she muttered under her breath, her expression tightening. "He destroyed something that lasted for over three hundred years."
The member stepped back into line.
Mary slowly rose to her feet, rolling her gloved fingers as tension coiled into her posture.
"We have five days left."
Her gaze hardened.
"We deal with Oliver today. After that, the rest will follow."
A dark mist formed a few feet beside her, condensing into a cloaked figure. Mary didn't turn immediately. "What is it?"
"All crew leaders have gathered at the center of the academy," the figure said. "You've been requested to attend."
Mary glanced toward them. "Who sent the message?"
"Polaris saw me," the figure replied. "He asked that you come."
Silence lingered for a few seconds. Then Mary turned away and began walking. As she moved forward, the crowd parted instantly, creating a path without instruction.
"All of you," she said without looking back, "remain one hundred feet away. Stay hidden."
The warehouse doors opened.
As she stepped outside, the thousands behind her dissolved into dark mist, vanishing into the surroundings without a trace.
Mary walked with purpose, her pace steady as she made her way across the academy. When she reached the center, she stopped. A large statue stood before her—a butcher's knife embedded into stone, its surface stained as though perpetually dripping.
Her gaze shifted. Oliver was already there.
He sat atop the statue, relaxed, dressed as usual—shirt unbuttoned, cargo pants, sneakers—hands resting casually in his pockets.
Then the others.
Leonardo stood to the side, his skeletal frame partially concealed beneath a black cloak, dark purple orbs glowing where his eyes should have been.
Polaris hovered nearby, his ghostly form resembling a young boy, oversized hoodie hanging loosely over his frame, bare feet suspended above the ground.
Then Mary paused.
Pure.
She stared for a moment, expression flattening completely.
A wolf-shaped figure in a purple furry suit stood motionless.
Pure stared back.
"What?" they asked, their voice monotone, mechanical.
Mary said nothing before a low whistle came from above. It was Oliver.
"Would you look at that…" he said lazily. "When was the last time we were all in the same place?"
His gaze dropped to Mary.
"Also—"
A slight tilt of his head. "Are you trying to ambush us?"
Mary blinked. "W—what?"
Oliver raised a finger and a small green flame ignited at its tip. He traced a slow circle in the air and spoke with authority. "Detrimental Annihilation."
Mary's eyes widened slightly then she blinked. Nothing seemed to happnef as everything looked the same.
A nervous smile crept onto her lips as she exhaled. "Your bluffs are convincing."
Oliver tilted his head. "What bluff?" He glanced around casually. "All your men are already gone."
A pause. Then he looked toward Polaris.
"Isn't that right Polaris?" He drawled the name. Polaris didn't react. He simply floated in place before letting out a quiet sigh.
"They're dead."
Mary's head snapped toward him.
"…What?"
Her voice faltered.
"How?"
Her eyes moved back to Oliver and he was smiling.
"Anyway," Oliver said, pushing himself off the statue and landing lightly, "I called this meeting because now we all have something in common." He leaned his weight onto one leg.
"You don't have crews anymore either."
Leonardo's jaw opened, his voice emerging low and heavy, vibrating through the ground itself. "We followed your suggestion. What else do you want?"
Mary turned sharply toward him. "…What?"
Her mind caught up a second too late. "You don't have crews…" The realization settled.
Her expression shifted. "…You all destroyed them?"
"Ding ding," Oliver said lightly, clapping his hands together in slow, mocking applause. "Impressive."
Mary took a step back. "Why would you do that?"
Oliver stared at her for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly as if considering the question. Then he tapped a finger against his chin. "Let me think…" A small pause. "Because it was fun."
Polaris sighed, drifting slightly forward. "What he means," he said, "is that crews were never necessary."
Mary frowned. "Not necessary how?"
Polaris didn't hesitate. "We're the strongest ones here. Why would we need anyone else?"
He continued, voice calm, almost detached. "And we've decided something else."
A pause. "We're going to remake this academy."
Mary didn't speak.
"Everyone here is weak," Polaris said plainly. "So we'll kill them… and replace them with people who aren't."
Silence followed. Mary stood there, processing, but nothing came out.
Then Oliver spoke. "That's enough explaining." His tone shifted slightly. A glance upward. "I'm sure the headmaster is watching."
Back in the professors' observatory, silence lingered heavily over the room. No one moved, no one spoke until Mr. Paton muttered under his breath, "This is getting out of control."
The professors exchanged glances but hesitated to speak. Eventually, one cleared their throat. "Sir… if we may ask, how powerful are those children to speak so boldly?"
Mr. Paton exhaled slowly, his gaze still fixed on the floating portals. "Believe it or not, each of those five has the individual capacity to wipe out this entire academy on their own."
A ripple of unease spread across the room.
"But why now?" Victoria asked, leaning forward slightly.
Mr. Paton closed his eyes briefly before answering. "I've been alive since the founding of this academy. In my prime, I could have overpowered all five of them without much difficulty. But Oliver has likely realized something…" His tone lowered. "The power restraints I placed on every student upon entry have finally deteriorated."
That statement settled like weight in the air.
He leaned back into his chair, dragging both hands down his face before resting them near his chin. "We may not survive this week. There is no miracle—"
"What about the transfer students?" Victoria cut in abruptly.
Mr. Paton paused.
"They were brought in under a special classification by their sponsor, as potential 'helpers' right?"
Silence followed.
Then Mr. Paton sighed, almost annoyed with himself. "I had completely forgotten."
He leaned forward again, scanning through multiple portals with a flick of his fingers before stopping on one. The image stabilized: the four sat inside an empty classroom, casually talking as if nothing outside mattered.
Mr. Paton raised a hand. A new portal formed in front of him.
On the other side—
"Would you rather get railed by a gay man or rail a gay man?"
"Jiwon, what the fuck are you talking about?" Damien asked, staring at him with open confusion.
The portal fully materialized.
Mr. Paton stepped through, adjusting his tie as if entering a formal meeting rather than interrupting nonsense. "Mr. Fuller, I believe one of my rules includes no swearing. However, that is not why I am here. We require your assistance."
The four went silent, their attention shifting immediately.
Mr. Paton continued, composed. "Your sponsor—the Observer—sent me a letter. In it, they indicated that you would assist this academy in the event of a major emergency."
Renji frowned slightly, still seated cross-legged. "When exactly did we agree to that?"
"I'm not certain myself," Mr. Paton replied. "But the letter also mentioned something else—that upon completion, you would be returned to your original world and back to your normal lives."
That changed the atmosphere.
A brief silence followed before Soren spoke. "...Alright. What exactly do you need from us?"
Mr. Paton answered without hesitation. "The crew leaders led by Oliver have made it clear they intend to exterminate everyone within this academy. We need you to ensure that does not happen."
Jiwon tilted his head. "And you can't handle it yourself?"
Mr. Paton's expression remained neutral. "I no longer possess the strength required. That responsibility now falls to you."
A purple portal opened behind him.
Without another word, he stepped backward and disappeared through it.
The room fell quiet again.
Soren exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Looks like we might actually go home after all. Convenient."
Renji pushed himself to his feet. "Then let's stop wasting time."
Jiwon stood up next, stretching slightly. "Finally, something interesting."
Damien rose last, a grin spreading across his face. "Let's get this party started."
Soren adjusted his coat, his expression calm but focused.
Four figures stood in that empty classroom, no longer idle.
The Ultimate Matchup
The Crew Leaders vs The Kings of the Modern Age
Who wins?
Find out in the next chapter....