The grand gates of Arcanum Academy stood tall—etched with runes older than the Empire itself, guarded by wards meant to repel even archmages. To most, the Academy was the pinnacle of magical knowledge.
To Alan Grey?
A sandbox.
He stepped off the carriage, the silver-robed examiners still shaken from earlier, whispering to each other in disbelief. Some dared glance his way—most didn't. His presence was too heavy, too unnatural. He wasn't a prodigy.
He was an anomaly.
"Alan Grey?" called out a voice.
He turned, and a boy strode forward—shoulders square, chin up, exuding noble pride. His golden robes glittered. "I'm Leon Valcrest, heir of House Valcrest, top scorer of last year's entrance trials. I hear you broke the evaluator's orb."
Alan's blue eyes flicked over him, unimpressed. "And?"
Leon frowned. "I challenge you. First day, first duel. The strong must prove themselves."
Alan raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"You want to prove something?" he said, stepping closer. "Alright."
The wind grew still.
A crowd formed fast—students, faculty, guards. Duels on the first day were rare. But the moment Leon Valcrest stepped into the training ring, everyone knew this wasn't just a fight.
It was a warning.
Leon summoned a flaming spear, his aura blazing crimson. "Prepare your weapon."
Alan didn't even draw his katana.
Leon lunged—his spear howling with fire. Mid-strike, he grinned. Fast enough to catch him off guard—
BOOM.
He was on the ground, choking on dust, ears ringing, and staring at the broken haft of his spear.
Alan was still standing, one hand in his pocket.
The crowd was silent.
"What... what spell was that?" a professor murmured.
Alan finally unsheathed his katana. Midnight Fang shimmered in the light—its blade whispering in a tongue older than time.
"I didn't cast one," Alan said calmly. "I just tapped his weapon with the blunt edge."
Leon scrambled to his feet, panic in his eyes. "Y-You cheated! You—"
Alan vanished.
And reappeared behind him.
"You talk too much," he said, slamming the boy to the ground again—this time without magic, just sheer technique.
The crowd gasped. Even the professors looked shaken. Alan turned, his coat fluttering, his aura finally settling into a quiet storm of runes and whispers.
"You wanted strength," he said, walking away, "Now you've seen what it really looks like."
*******
That night, as the students settled in their dorms, rumors exploded.
"Did you hear? He beat Leon without magic!""He summoned a katana out of thin air!""I heard he's a god in disguise."
Back in his chamber, Alan sat alone, meditating. The room around him pulsed with arcane symbols, runes burning into the floor like brands. Seals of power.
He wasn't here to learn. He was here to prepare.
Because he knew something the rest of the world had forgotten—
The gods were watching. And they were afraid.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open.
A whisper echoed in his mind—a divine presence, cold and ancient.
"You should not exist..."
Alan smirked, standing slowly.
"Then come erase me."