Vampire Knight Cross Over Fan Fictions Chapter 1 Fajar Purnama Debut

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Chapter 1.1 Orientation

[Location: The Front Gates of Cross Academy - Early Evening]

Fajar stepped out of the portal, and reality snapped into place around him. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine trees and an underlying, faint metallic tang that he would soon learn was the ambient magic of the area.

He stood before the massive, towering wrought-iron gates of Cross Academy. Beyond the gates, the sprawling, European-style campus looked like a fortress. The sun was just beginning to set, casting long, dramatic shadows across the cobblestone path.

He looked down at his hands. They were smooth, lacking the heavy calluses of a seasoned martial artist. His muscles were standard—healthy, but not yet forged by the fires of Phase I. He was completely empty-handed, save for a standard, black Day Class uniform neatly folded in a standard-issue duffel bag Gemini had manifested at his feet upon entry, containing only his school ID and dormitory keys.

Suddenly, the heavy iron gates groaned open.

Standing on the other side were two figures. One was a girl with short, dark brown hair, wearing the black Day Class uniform with a white armband that read Prefect. She held a metal rod strapped to her thigh.

Next to her stood a tall young man with silver hair and piercing, hostile lilac eyes. He wore his uniform loosely, a silver gun strapped in a holster beneath his blazer. He glared at Fajar with intense, predatory suspicion, his hand subtly resting near the grip of his weapon.

“You’re the new transfer student?” the girl asked, stepping forward with a welcoming, albeit cautious, smile. “I’m Yuki Cross. This is Zero Kiryu. We’re the school Guardians. Headmaster Cross sent us to escort you to your dorm.”

Zero’s eyes narrowed, sweeping over Fajar’s relaxed, entirely unguarded posture. To Zero’s hyper-tuned Hunter senses, Fajar registered as an absolute zero—no magical aura, no threat, just an oblivious, defenceless human walking into a den of monsters.

“Make it quick,” Zero muttered coldly. “The sun is setting. They will be waking up soon.”

Fajar smiled back, entirely carefree, feeling the cool evening breeze.

What will Fajar do?

A) Greet them cheerfully, introduce himself, and casually ask where the nearest convenience store or hardware store is so he can start acquiring some “basic supplies” (knives/weights). B) Ignore Zero’s hostility, observe their breathing and posture (initiating Phase I: Sensory Overclocking), and casually comment on how tense they both are. C) Ask to be taken directly to Headmaster Cross to establish his presence, acting like a completely normal, oblivious student for now. D) [Custom Action: Tell me exactly what Fajar says or does next!]

---

Fajar didn’t flinch at Zero’s hostility. In fact, he didn’t even look at the silver gun hidden beneath the prefect’s blazer.

Instead, Fajar’s mind seamlessly slipped into Phase I: Sensory Overclocking. He tuned out the ambient noise of the wind and focused entirely on the two “Guardians” standing before him.

He observed Yuki first. Her smile was polite, but her center of gravity was slightly lowered, and her fingers twitched rhythmically against the metal rod strapped to her thigh. Protective intent. Nervous, but disciplined. Then, he shifted his focus to Zero. The silver-haired boy was a mess of bio-mechanical inefficiency. Fajar watched the micro-tremors in Zero’s jaw, the rigid lock of his shoulders, and the way he favored his right leg, putting seventy percent of his weight on his back foot—a classic quick-draw stance. Underneath the hostility, Fajar could hear the faint, slightly erratic rhythm of Zero’s heartbeat. He’s exhausted. And hungry. A deeply suppressed, violent intent.

Fajar smiled, his posture completely relaxed, his hands resting loosely at his sides.

“You guys are wound pretty tight, huh?” Fajar said casually, his voice cutting through the gothic tension like a warm knife through butter.

Zero’s eyes narrowed further. “Excuse me?”

“Your shoulders are locked up, and your breathing is incredibly shallow,” Fajar pointed out, gesturing vaguely to Zero’s rigid posture. “You’re keeping your muscles in a constant state of flex. If you walk around like that all day, your lower backs are going to completely give out by the time you’re thirty. You should try dropping your shoulders and breathing from your diaphragm.”

Silence fell over the gates.

Yuki blinked, completely thrown off guard. Usually, new Day Class students were either intimidated by Zero’s terrifying glare or utterly oblivious to it. None of them had ever offered him physical therapy advice.

Zero’s grip on his blazer tightened. A vein popped on his forehead. “Are you mocking me, new kid?”

“Just looking out for your health,” Fajar replied cheerfully, easily picking up his standard-issue duffel bag. “Anyway, I’m Fajar. Nice to meet you both. Lead the way?”

Yuki let out a nervous, bewildered laugh. “Right! Um, welcome to Cross Academy, Fajar. Let’s get you to the Sun Dormitory before the crowds start.”

As they walked onto the sprawling, cobblestone campus, Fajar fell into step behind them. While Yuki explained the basic rules of the academy—curfews, the separation of the Day and Night Classes, and the strict boundaries—Fajar was busy. He consciously altered his gait, rolling his steps from the outside edge of his foot to his toes, minimizing the sound of his footsteps on the stone. He closed his eyes for two seconds at a time, letting his ears map the echoing walls of the academy buildings, desperately trying to sharpen his spatial awareness into a rudimentary radar.

Suddenly, a deafening wave of high-pitched squeals and excited chatter broke Fajar’s concentration.

“Oh no, it’s starting,” Yuki groaned, grabbing her metal rod and rushing forward. “Zero, we have to hold the line!”

Fajar followed them to a massive intersection on the campus. Hundreds of Day Class girls (and a few boys) were pressed against a pathway, screaming in absolute adoration. Zero and Yuki immediately took their positions, physically holding the rabid crowd back.

The heavy, ornate doors of the Moon Dormitory slowly opened.

The Night Class emerged.

They were impossibly beautiful, walking with an aristocratic grace that seemed to bend the very air around them. Hanabusa Aido flashed a brilliant, charming smile, causing a section of the crowd to practically faint. Akatsuki Kain walked with quiet, smoldering stoicism.

But Fajar’s sensory training instantly locked onto the figure walking at the front.

Kaname Kuran.

As Kaname walked, Fajar pushed his senses to their absolute limit, trying to read the Pureblood’s intent. Unlike Zero, who leaked hostility, Kaname was a void. There was no wasted movement. No shift in center of gravity. His breathing was so perfectly measured it barely existed. But beneath that serene, impossibly calm exterior, Fajar’s instincts—the primal part of his brain designed to recognize apex predators—screamed.

It wasn’t bloodlust. It was the overwhelming, crushing pressure of a being that existed on a completely different level of the food chain. It was a pressure so heavy it felt like it could warp reality itself.

Kaname paused, his dark red eyes sliding over the crowd of screaming humans, before they briefly, inexplicably, locked onto Fajar standing quietly in the back.

What will Fajar do?

A) Test the Waters: Maintain eye contact with Kaname. Refuse to look away, subtly projecting his own calm, unyielding “intent” back at the Pureblood to see how Kaname reacts to a human who doesn’t lower his head. B) The Carefree Dismissal: Break eye contact immediately out of pure disinterest. Turn to a screaming Day Class student next to him and casually ask where the cafeteria is, completely trivializing Kaname’s majestic presence. C) Analyze and Retreat: Acknowledge the massive gap in their current physical power. Close his eyes, mapping Kaname’s footsteps to memorize his rhythm, and quietly slip away to the Sun Dormitory to begin his physical conditioning. D) [Custom Action] Tell me what Fajar does!

---

Fajar didn’t lock eyes with the Pureblood, nor did he shrink away. Instead, he simply… waited.

He was a guest here, after all. Yuki and Zero were his guides, and they were currently busy holding back a tidal wave of hormonal teenagers. So, Fajar stood quietly by a nearby stone pillar, closed his eyes, and let the chaos wash over him.

This was the perfect environment for Phase I: Sensory Overclocking.

With his eyes shut, the world exploded into a symphony of data. He tuned out the meaningless shrieks of the fangirls and focused on the biological rhythms around him. He could hear the rapid, fluttering heartbeats of the Day Class—a collective mass of anxiety and infatuation.

Then, he felt them. The Night Class.

Their footsteps were unnervingly synchronized, their footfalls so light they barely disturbed the dust on the cobblestones. Fajar mapped their positions using the displaced air currents as they moved. Hanabusa Aido walked with a slight bounce—arrogant, energetic. Akatsuki Kain’s steps were heavier, grounded, like a dormant volcano.

And then there was Kaname.

Even with his eyes closed, Fajar could feel Kaname’s presence like a physical weight pressing against his skin. It was an aura so dense and ancient that the ambient magic in the air seemed to bow around him. But instead of feeling fear, Fajar used the pressure as a whetstone. He matched his breathing to the slow, heavy rhythm of his own heartbeat, grounding himself. He imagined his intent as a smooth, impenetrable rock in the middle of a raging river. The pressure washed over him, but it could not move him.

Kaname paused. Fajar didn’t open his eyes, but he could feel the Pureblood’s gaze land on him. For a fraction of a second, the crushing weight of Kaname’s aura sharpened, probing Fajar for a reaction—looking for the intoxicating scent of fear, or the mindless devotion of the Day Class.

It found neither. It found only a completely relaxed boy, leaning against a pillar, breathing from his diaphragm.

“Kaname-sama?” Aido’s voice broke the tension, laced with slight confusion. “Is something wrong?”

Fajar heard Kaname’s silk-smooth voice for the first time. “No. It is nothing. Let us proceed.”

The heavy pressure slowly moved away as the Night Class entered the main academy building, leaving a trail of swooning humans in their wake. Fajar finally opened his eyes, feeling a slight strain in his temples. Sustaining that level of sensory processing was exhausting for his current, unconditioned brain, but the mental map he had just drawn of the Night Class’s physical capabilities was invaluable.

“Hey!” Zero’s harsh voice snapped Fajar out of his thoughts.

The silver-haired prefect was marching toward him, Yuki jogging close behind. The crowd was finally dispersing. Zero looked at Fajar, his lilac eyes narrowed with intense suspicion.

“What were you doing just now?” Zero demanded. “When Kuran was looking at you. You just stood there with your eyes closed like an idiot.”

Fajar stretched his arms overhead, popping his shoulders. “Just listening to the wind. There’s a lot of noise here. I was just waiting for you guys to finish your shift so I could get to my room. Am I allowed to grab dinner, or is there a curfew?”

Yuki sighed, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. “You’re fine, Fajar. Sorry about that, the transition is always a little crazy. Come on, the Sun Dormitory is this way.”

Zero didn’t say another word, but his hand didn’t leave the vicinity of his holster for the rest of the walk.

Ten minutes later, Yuki unlocked a door on the second floor of the Sun Dormitory. “Here you go! A standard single room. Usually, first-years share, but since you’re a special transfer, Headmaster Cross gave you your own space. Classes start tomorrow at 8:00 AM.”

“Thanks, Yuki. I appreciate it,” Fajar smiled, tossing his duffel bag onto the simple bed.

“If you need anything, my room is at the end of the hall, and Zero is on the floor above,” she said before gently closing the door, leaving Fajar alone in the quiet room.

Fajar looked around. The room was basic: a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a window overlooking the sprawling forest that surrounded the academy grounds. The sun had completely set. It was officially night—the time when the predators of this world came alive.

Fajar cracked his knuckles. His baseline human body was weak, fragile, and completely unsuited for the battles to come. It was time to start Phase I: Reality.

What will Fajar do?

A) The Supply Run: He has absolutely nothing. He needs to sneak out of the dormitory, bypass the school’s strict curfew, and navigate the dark town to find a 24-hour convenience/hardware store to buy a standard combat knife and some heavy water jugs for weight training. (Risk of encountering Level E vampires or Night Class patrols). B) The Furnace: Stay in the room and immediately begin a grueling, all-night session of Phase I physical conditioning (Bio-maintenance stretching, primal ground movements, and intense bodyweight exercises) to begin forging his vessel, using only the furniture in the room. C) The Scout: The environment is an armory. Sneak out of the room strictly to map the Sun Dormitory and the immediate school grounds. He will practice moving completely silently in the dark and look for mundane items (pipes, broken glass, heavy tools) he can repurpose into weapons. D) [Custom Action] Tell me what Fajar does!

---

Before the click of the closing door could even settle, Fajar turned around and opened it right back up.

Yuki and Zero had only made it a few steps down the dimly lit hallway of the Sun Dormitory. They both stopped and turned, Zero’s hand instinctively twitching toward his blazer again.

“Hold on a second,” Fajar called out cheerfully, stepping back into the hall. “I just realized, I haven’t officially checked in yet. I need to meet Headmaster Cross, right? That’s the main agenda for a new transfer. Are you guys too busy to show me the way, or should I just wander around until I find his office?”

Zero’s eyes narrowed. “You absolutely cannot ‘wander around’ campus at night. It’s strictly forbidden for Day Class students.”

Yuki quickly stepped between them, offering a polite smile. “Zero is right, it’s against the rules for your own safety. But you do need to see the Headmaster to get your schedule and sign your enrollment forms. I’ll take you to his office. Zero, you can start the perimeter patrol.”

Zero glared at Fajar for a long moment. “Don’t let him out of your sight, Yuki.” With a swish of his coat, the silver-haired Hunter turned and headed for the stairs, his footsteps heavy with stress.

“Come on,” Yuki gestured for Fajar to follow. “The Headmaster’s office is in the main academy building.”

As they walked back across the campus, the atmosphere had shifted. The Day Class students were securely locked in their dorms, and the grounds were eerily silent. Fajar slipped right back into Phase I: Sensory Overclocking. He matched Yuki’s footsteps, stepping exactly when she stepped to mask his own sound. He closed his eyes periodically, using the bounce of the cool night wind to map the stone walls, the archways, and the distance to the tree line.

The architecture here creates too many blind spots, Fajar noted mentally. Lots of high ground for ambushes. The gravel paths are loud. If I need to fight out here, I’ll stick to the grass or the shadows of the pillars.

They arrived at a set of large, ornate double doors on the top floor of the main building. Yuki knocked twice.

“Come in, come in, my sweet Yuki!” a wildly dramatic, cheerful voice sang from inside.

Yuki opened the door and sighed. Fajar stepped in behind her.

Sitting behind a massive mahogany desk was a tall man with long, blonde hair tied in a ponytail, wearing circular glasses and a flamboyant, slightly oversized suit. Headmaster Kaien Cross stood up immediately, clasping his hands together with tears of absolute joy streaming down his face.

“Ah! My beautiful adopted daughter has brought our newest arrival safe and sound!” Kaien cheered, striking a dramatic pose. “Welcome, welcome, Fajar Purnama! I am Headmaster Cross! I am so thrilled to have a new international scholarship student join our lovely, peaceful academy!”

Fajar stood perfectly still, his carefree smile remaining on his face, but internally, his senses flared violently.

He immediately overclocked his perception, trying to read the Headmaster just as he had read Zero and Kaname. But what he found completely shocked his martial instincts.

Kaien Cross was acting like a total buffoon, flailing his arms and crying comedic tears. Yet, beneath that ridiculous facade, Fajar’s intent radar picked up something terrifying. Kaien had absolutely no wasted movement. Even while waving his arms, his center of gravity was flawlessly balanced, anchored perfectly to the floor. His breathing was so deep and steady it didn’t match his frantic speech at all. Unlike Kaname, who radiated the crushing pressure of an apex predator, Kaien radiated an absolute, terrifying stillness. He was like a sheathed sword. A baseline human who had pushed his physical mastery and lethal precision to the absolute pinnacle.

This guy, Fajar realized, a genuine spark of excitement lighting up his chest. This guy is dangerous. He’s exactly what a Phase I master looks like.

“It’s great to meet you, Headmaster,” Fajar said smoothly, bowing his head slightly in respect—not to the title, but to the hidden martial artist beneath the goofy suit. “Thanks for taking me in. I’m looking forward to a very… productive time here.”

Kaien wiped his comedic tears and smiled, his glasses flashing in the lamplight. For a fraction of a second, the goofy smile dropped, and Kaien’s eyes locked onto Fajar with razor-sharp, calculating clarity. The Headmaster recognized the way Fajar stood—perfectly balanced, relaxed but ready to explode into motion, completely devoid of the usual teenage awkwardness.

The moment passed instantly. Kaien laughed cheerfully. “Oh, we are going to have a wonderful time! Here is your class schedule, your uniform guidelines, and a map of the campus. Remember, Fajar, the most important rule of Cross Academy: The Day Class is strictly forbidden from leaving their dormitories after sunset. Do we understand?”

“Loud and clear,” Fajar said, taking the papers.

“Excellent! Yuki, please escort our new friend back to his room. Sleep well, young man!”

Yuki led Fajar back out into the cool night air and successfully deposited him at his door in the Sun Dormitory. “Get some sleep, Fajar. Classes start early. Goodnight!”

Fajar closed his door and locked it. The room was dark, silent, and entirely his. He had officially checked in, secured his alibi, and mapped his immediate surroundings. He tossed the schedule on the desk.

Now, the real work begins.

What will Fajar do?

A) The Supply Run: Fajar ignores the Headmaster’s warning. He silently opens his second-floor window and uses Phase I ground mechanics to scale down the building. He needs to sneak into the nearby human town to find a 24-hour convenience store to buy a standard combat or utility knife and makeshift training weights, risking an encounter with Level E vampires in the woods. B) The Furnace (Room Conditioning): Fajar respects the perimeter for tonight. He strips off the uniform and begins a grueling, all-night session of Phase I physical conditioning inside his room—thousands of push-ups, squats, and bio-maintenance stretching—to start forging his baseline vessel into a weapon, operating purely on minimal sleep. C) The Scout (Campus Mapping): Fajar sneaks out, but stays on campus. He uses the darkness to practice moving silently, mapping out the Night Class’s patrol routes, and looking for mundane objects on the grounds (pipes, heavy stones, maintenance tools) to stash around the campus as makeshift weapons. D) [Custom Action] Tell me what Fajar does!

---

Chapter 1.2 Training

Fajar stood in the center of his new room, the silence of the Sun Dormitory settling around him. The temptation to immediately push this new body to its absolute physical limits was strong, but Fajar’s mind was disciplined. Raw strength without a foundation was just a fast track to destroying his own vessel.

First things first: the environment.

Fajar opened his duffel bag and neatly unpacked his few belongings. He hung his Day Class uniform in the wardrobe with precise, equidistant spacing. He wiped down the desk, checked the window latch, and smoothed out the bedsheets until not a single wrinkle remained. A cluttered room bred a cluttered mind, and Fajar needed his mind to be a flawless mirror.

With the room secured and pristine, he stripped down to his undershirt and sweatpants.

He began with Tier 1: Bio-Maintenance. Fajar started from his neck, slowly rolling his joints and working his way down to his ankles. He stretched his hamstrings, opened his hips, and twisted his spine. He immediately felt the limitations of his baseline human body. The ligaments were stiff, the muscles tight from years of standard, inefficient human movement. He breathed deeply, using oxygen to coax the muscle fibers into relaxing and expanding. He wasn’t building muscle tonight; he was upgrading the vessel’s elasticity.

Once his blood was flowing and his joints felt lubricated, Fajar shifted his stance. It was time to sync his cosmic mind with this mortal body.

He didn’t drop for a thousand push-ups. Instead, he began reviewing his martial arts foundations. He moved into a standard CQC guard, testing his footwork. He pivoted, throwing a slow, perfectly measured jab, followed by a cross and a low sweeping kick.

My mind is ten times faster than my body, Fajar analyzed, feeling the slight lag between his brain’s command and his arm’s execution.

He sped up slightly, visualizing an opponent in front of him—mapping out the anatomical weak points he knew so well from Return of the Bloodthirsty Police and Teenage Mercenary. He practiced his knife-fighting forms empty-handed, imagining a standard military blade in his reverse grip. He slashed at the carotid artery, dropped his center of gravity to slip under a phantom strike, and simulated severing an Achilles tendon. He repeated these forms for hours in the dark, carving the neural pathways of elite combat into this unconditioned brain through sheer repetition and perfect technique.

By 3:00 AM, his undershirt was soaked in sweat, and his muscles were trembling with lactic acid. His foundation was mapped.

Fajar showered quickly in the communal bathroom down the hall, taking care to move silently, before returning to his room. He sat cross-legged on the center of his bed, closing his eyes.

Before sleep, he needed to prepare for Phase II. He initiated Neuro-somatic Relaxation. Fajar slowed his heart rate artificially, commanding his nervous system to power down into a state of deep, regenerative rest. As his physical body went numb, his consciousness turned inward. He began mentally tracing the 12 Great Meridians along his nervous system, visualizing the pathways where his internal energy (Qi) would eventually flow. He focused his awareness on his lower Dantian, gently knocking on the door of his dormant internal energy, planting the seeds for his future cultivation.

With his mind clear and his body humming with potential, Fajar slipped into a perfect, dreamless sleep.

[The Next Morning - 7:30 AM]

Fajar’s eyes snapped open. Exactly four and a half hours of perfect REM sleep. He felt completely refreshed.

He dressed in the black Day Class uniform, noting how restrictive the blazer felt around the shoulders. He adjusted it as best he could to ensure maximum mobility, slipped his hands into his pockets, and headed downstairs.

The Sun Dormitory was buzzing with activity. Day Class students were rushing around, fixing their ties, and gossiping loudly. As Fajar stepped out into the bright morning sun, he immediately felt the difference in the campus atmosphere. The heavy, oppressive magic from the Night Class was gone, replaced by the mundane, chaotic energy of normal high school life.

He walked into his assigned homeroom for his first day of class. The room went silent for a moment as the students took in the new transfer student. Whispers broke out immediately.

“Is that him?” “He doesn’t look that special…” “I heard Zero was glaring at him yesterday, maybe he’s a delinquent?”

The teacher gestured to an empty seat near the back by the window. Fajar walked over, his gait silent and perfectly balanced, and sat down. From this vantage point, he could see the entire classroom, the door, and the sprawling courtyard outside.

The teacher began writing a complex math equation on the board, droning on about algebra.

What will Fajar do?

A) The Model Student (Intel Gathering): Play the part perfectly. Pay attention, answer questions, and use the breaks to casually socialize and gather intel from the Day Class about the school’s social hierarchy, the Night Class rumors, and where to sneak off-campus. B) Academic Cultivation: Human high school academics are utterly useless to him. Fajar stares blankly out the window, looking like he’s daydreaming, but is actually performing intense internal Neuro-somatic cultivation and breath-work while sitting completely still. C) The Delinquent: Show complete disregard for the mundane system. Put his feet on the desk, pull out a piece of paper, and start sketching the blueprints for makeshift weapons or mapping out his physical training schedule, daring the teacher to reprimand him. D) [Custom Action] Tell me what Fajar does!

---

To the untrained eye of the Day Class teacher and his new classmates, Fajar was simply staring blankly out the window, a bored teenager daydreaming on his first day.

In reality, Fajar had initiated Step 0.5: Neuro-Somatic Cultivation.

Human high school academics were utterly trivial to a mind that held the cosmic blueprints of infinite realities. He didn’t need to listen to the algebra lecture; his brain was already processing equations that governed the fabric of space and time. So, he turned his focus entirely inward.

He began with the Terminal Awakening. Fajar directed his awareness to the absolute extremities of his body—the tips of his toes and the tips of his fingers. He visualized the neural pathways firing, waking up the dormant, deadened nerves of his baseline human vessel. He slightly curled his hands into the chopping form he had practiced the night before, conditioning his mind to treat his hands not as blunt instruments, but as razor-sharp blades.

Next was The Sponge (The Intake Valve). He synced his diaphragm’s rhythm with the ambient energy of the room. With every inhale, he imagined his pores opening like microscopic valves, drawing in oxygen and latent atmospheric energy.

He moved the energy into The Joint Drill (The Capacitor). He mentally routed the gathered energy into his ankles, knees, hips, shoulders, and elbows. He felt a faint, phantom heat building in his joints, compressing the energy like coiled springs, ready to explode into kinetic force at a moment’s notice.

Finally, he initiated The Bone Wash. He pushed the compressed energy deep into his skeletal structure, visualizing it scrubbing the marrow clean, purging the biological impurities of a normal human diet and lifestyle, slowly preparing his bones to withstand the massive impact force he would eventually generate.

“Mr. Purnama,” the teacher’s sharp voice suddenly cut through the room.

The scratching of pencils stopped. The entire class turned to look at the new transfer student.

“Since the view from the window is far more engaging than my lecture,” the teacher said, tapping his chalk against a brutally complex polynomial equation on the blackboard, “perhaps you’d care to solve this for the class? Assuming you’ve been paying attention.”

Fajar didn’t even blink. He slowly exhaled, seamlessly pausing the Bone Wash, and turned his head. He glanced at the board for less than a second.

“X equals 4.72,” Fajar said smoothly, leaning his chin on his hand with a relaxed smile. “Though, respectfully, sir, the formula you used on the third line has a slight structural flaw. If you carry the negative integer properly, it actually simplifies the final quadrant, saving you about three steps.”

The classroom was dead silent. The teacher blinked, looked at the board, quickly scribbled the correction Fajar mentioned, and his jaw dropped slightly. It was perfectly correct.

“I… see,” the teacher cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. “Well spotted, Fajar. Let’s move on.”

The moment the bell rang for the lunch break, Fajar dropped the cultivation entirely and seamlessly transitioned into casual, friendly socializing. He stood up, stretching his arms, and was immediately swarmed by curious Day Class students.

“Whoa, dude! How did you do that?” a boy named Sayori asked. “He’s the strictest teacher in the school!”

“Just a lucky guess,” Fajar laughed effortlessly, leaning against his desk. “I read ahead a bit last night. So, what’s the deal with this place? The campus is huge. Any good spots to hang out?”

For the next twenty minutes, Fajar casually gathered intel while eating his lunch. He played the part of the friendly, carefree new guy flawlessly. He learned the standard gossip: the Night Class was incredibly beautiful, entirely composed of elite aristocrats, and completely untouchable. He learned that Headmaster Cross was a bit of a weirdo but everyone loved him. And most importantly, he learned the layout of the school’s social hierarchy—the Day Class lived in a state of willful, blissful ignorance.

As lunch wrapped up, Fajar stepped out into the bustling courtyard. The sun was high, and the Night Class was supposedly fast asleep in the heavily guarded Moon Dormitory.

What will Fajar do next?

A) The Friendly Spar: Fajar decides to check out the school’s athletic clubs (like the Kendo or Boxing club). He wants to casually participate to gauge the physical baseline of the athletic humans in this world without revealing his true lethal skills. B) The Forbidden Zone: Fajar uses his free period to “accidentally” wander close to the gates of the Moon Dormitory. He wants to use his Sensory Overclocking to see if he can feel the Night Class’s auras while they sleep, testing their passive defenses. C) The Sun Patrol: Fajar spots Yuki and Zero eating lunch under a nearby tree. He casually walks over to join them, intent on slowly breaking down Zero’s walls with his friendly, fearless demeanor. D) [Custom Action] Tell me what Fajar does!

---

Fajar finished his lunch and stretched his arms, feeling the warm afternoon sun. He had some free time before the afternoon periods began, and he wanted to gauge the physical baseline of the humans in this world.

He strolled across the campus toward the gymnasium, following the sharp, rhythmic shouts echoing from the Kendo Club.

Fajar slid the gymnasium doors open. Inside, a dozen students in heavy armor were swinging bamboo shinai. The Kendo Club Captain—a tall, heavily built third-year student—was currently barking orders.

“Excuse me,” Fajar called out cheerfully, raising a hand. “I’m the new transfer. Mind if I jump in for a quick spar? I want to get a feel for the clubs here.”

The Captain lifted his mask, looking Fajar up and down. “You want to spar? We don’t exactly go easy on newcomers. Go put on some armor from the back.”

“I’m fine without it, if you don’t mind,” Fajar smiled casually, walking onto the polished wooden floor and picking up a spare shinai. He gave it a few experimental swings, feeling the weight and balance. It was far lighter than a real sword, but it would do.

The gym went quiet. Sparing without armor against the Captain was considered suicidal for a Day Class student. The Captain frowned, annoyed by the perceived disrespect, and stepped onto the mat, fully armored.

“Don’t cry if I break your ribs, transfer,” the Captain warned, taking a high, aggressive stance.

Fajar simply stood there. He didn’t take a traditional stance. He held the bamboo sword loosely in his right hand, his tip pointing casually toward the floor. His breathing was perfectly steady.

“Begin!” a club member shouted.

With a roar, the Captain lunged forward, bringing his shinai down in a massive, heavy overhead strike designed to crush Fajar’s guard.

To Fajar’s overclocked perception, the man was moving in slow motion. His cosmic skills allowed for absolute control; he didn’t need to dodge at superhuman speeds or shatter the man’s sword to win. He simply needed perfect geometry.

Fajar didn’t step back. He stepped in.

With a micro-shift of his hips, Fajar bypassed the heavy strike entirely. He raised his shinai, using the absolute bare minimum of kinetic force to deflect the Captain’s blade just an inch to the left. As the Captain stumbled forward from his own momentum, Fajar casually tapped the tip of his bamboo sword directly against the exposed gap in the Captain’s throat armor.

Tap. The force was no heavier than a falling leaf, but the implication was absolute. Had it been a real blade, the Captain would be dead.

The Captain froze, his eyes wide behind his mask. He hadn’t even seen Fajar move. The entire exchange took less than a second.

Fajar lowered his sword and smiled warmly. “Nice form on the advance. You’ve got great shoulder strength. But you’re putting too much weight on your front foot when you swing—it commits your center of gravity too early.”

He handed the shinai back to a completely dumbfounded club member. “Thanks for the spar, guys! I’ve got to catch up with some friends.”

Without a single drop of sweat on his brow, Fajar strolled out of the gym, leaving the entire Kendo Club in stunned, absolute silence. He had flawlessly demonstrated that anyone could be strong, relying purely on technique and precision.

Fajar grabbed a cold canned coffee from a vending machine and wandered over to a large oak tree near the edge of the courtyard. Sitting in the shade were Yuki and Zero, taking a break from the crowds.

Yuki was eating a rice ball, while Zero sat with his knees pulled up, a dark scowl on his face, staring out at the perimeter wall.

“Hey,” Fajar said cheerfully, tossing a second canned coffee perfectly into Zero’s lap. “You guys mind if I crash here?”

Zero flinched slightly, surprised by the sudden object landing in his lap. He glared up at Fajar. “Don’t you have other people to bother?”

“Zero, be nice,” Yuki chided, smiling at Fajar. “Have a seat, Fajar. How was your first morning of classes?”

“Pretty relaxed,” Fajar said, dropping into a cross-legged sitting position on the grass. He popped his coffee open. “Your math teacher needs to double-check his polynomial equations, but other than that, it’s nice. Just had a quick spar with the Kendo Club to stretch my legs.”

Yuki blinked in surprise. “The Kendo Club? Captain Takahashi is huge. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. He’s a good guy, just a little heavy on his feet,” Fajar chuckled.

Zero’s eyes narrowed. He looked closely at Fajar. As a Hunter, Zero was trained to spot predators. He scanned Fajar for a magical aura and found absolutely nothing. But as he looked closer, he realized something unnerving. Fajar had supposedly just sparred with the toughest athlete in the Day Class, yet his breathing was entirely undisturbed. His pulse, which Zero could faintly hear, was resting at a perfectly calm, metronomic beat.

He’s too quiet, Zero thought, his hand subconsciously brushing against the holster under his blazer. Normal humans don’t move like that.

Fajar, meanwhile, was continuously running Phase I: Sensory Overclocking. He could hear the faint, agonizing grinding of Zero’s teeth. He could smell the metallic, sickly-sweet scent of suppressed bloodlust radiating from the silver-haired boy. Zero wasn’t just traumatized; his body was actively fighting a biological war against itself.

“You really don’t like sitting still, do you, Zero?” Fajar asked casually, taking a sip of his coffee.

“What’s it to you?” Zero snapped.

“Nothing. Just an observation,” Fajar smiled, leaning back against the tree. “You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world. It’s a nice day. You should try looking at the clouds instead of the gates. The gates aren’t going anywhere.”

Zero gritted his teeth, irritated by how easily Fajar brushed off his hostility. “You don’t know anything about this place, transfer. Keep your head down and stay out of things you don’t understand.”

Before Fajar could reply, the loud ringing of the school bell echoed across the courtyard, signaling the end of the lunch break.

“Ah, that’s the bell,” Yuki said, jumping up and dusting off her skirt. “We have history next. Coming, Fajar?”

Fajar stood up smoothly, without using his hands. “Lead the way.”

As the afternoon dragged on into evening, the atmosphere on campus began to shift once again. The sun dipped below the tree line, casting long, dark shadows across the school. The Day Class students were herded back to their dormitories, and the heavy iron gates of the Moon Dormitory began to slowly creak open.

Fajar stood by the window of his room in the Sun Dormitory, looking out over the courtyard. Zero and Yuki were down there, preparing to hold back the screaming crowds for the Night Class’s transition.

What will Fajar do?

A) The Shadow Watch: Fajar wants to observe the Night Class in a combat scenario. He sneaks out of the dorm and tails Zero and Yuki from the rooftops/trees using flawless stealth. He waits to see if any Level E vampires attack the perimeter, intending to watch how Zero and Yuki fight with their magical weapons. B) Gatecrashing the Transition: Fajar doesn’t hide. He casually walks right out the front doors of the Sun Dormitory during the Night Class transition, directly violating curfew, just to casually greet Kaname and the Night Class as if they are regular students, instantly putting him in the crosshairs of the Prefects and the Vampires. C) Evening Cultivation: The outside world is irrelevant right now. Fajar stays in his room and initiates his first deep session of Phase II: The 12 Great Meridians, attempting to awaken his internal Qi to match the magical energy of the vampires. D) [Custom Action] Tell me what Fajar does!

---

Fajar stood by the window for a moment, listening to the distant, chaotic screams of the Day Class girls as the Night Class emerged from the Moon Dormitory. He could feel Kaname’s oppressive, ancient aura sweeping across the campus like a heavy fog.

It was tempting to go out there. But Fajar smiled, shook his head, and closed the curtains.

The foundation must be built before the house can stand, he reminded himself.

He stripped off his school uniform and began his physical conditioning. For the next two hours, the room was silent except for his rhythmic, perfectly measured breathing. He performed slow, excruciatingly controlled bodyweight exercises—diamond push-ups, pistol squats, and isometric holds—designed to tear and rebuild his baseline muscle fibers with maximum efficiency. He didn’t just want bulk; he needed explosive, kinetic density.

When his muscles were completely exhausted and trembling, he didn’t collapse. He moved to the center of his bed, sitting in a perfect lotus position. It was time to move beyond Phase I.

Fajar closed his eyes and initiated Phase II: The 12 Great Meridians.

He slowed his heart rate and focused all his internal awareness on his lower Dantian, the reservoir of energy located just beneath his navel. In this world, vampires and Hunters relied on ambient, external magic. Fajar was going to generate his own.

He visualized his breath acting as a bellows, stoking a tiny, microscopic ember in his Dantian. Slowly, painstakingly, he began to push that conceptual heat outward, attempting to force it into the blocked, dormant meridian pathways of his human body.

It was like trying to push water through solid rock. The pain was immediate and sharp, a burning sensation traveling up his spine. His baseline body was entirely unaccustomed to internal Qi circulation. But Fajar’s cosmic willpower—his absolute intent—pushed through the pain. He managed to force a microscopic thread of warmth up his primary central meridian, circulating it through his chest and back down before his concentration finally broke.

Fajar opened his eyes, gasping slightly for air. He was drenched in sweat, but a satisfied smile spread across his face. The seal was broken. The vessel was officially adapting.

He wiped himself down, drank a large glass of water, and went to sleep. The first day was complete, and the anomaly had firmly planted its roots in Cross Academy.

---

[Day 2 - 5:00 AM]

The sun had not yet risen over Cross Academy, but Fajar was already moving.

He didn’t use an alarm clock; his internal biological clock, honed by Neuro-Somatic Cultivation, woke him perfectly after exactly four cycles of deep REM sleep. He rolled out of bed and immediately began his Tier 1: Bio-Maintenance. He spent twenty minutes meticulously waking up his nervous system, stretching his ligaments, and popping his joints to ensure absolute fluid mobility.

By 5:30 AM, Fajar was outside. The air was freezing, carrying the thick mist of the surrounding forest. This was the exact time the Night Class would be retreating to the Moon Dormitory, but Fajar ignored them. He was here for Functional Dynamics.

He began his morning run.

He didn’t sprint; he maintained a steady, grueling pace, forcing his breathing to sync perfectly with his footfalls. Inhale for three steps, exhale for three steps. He focused on landing on the mid-foot, turning his legs into perfect shock absorbers. He used this time to physically map the outer perimeter of the campus, turning the mundane exercise into a tactical recon mission.

As he rounded the eastern corner of the main building, Fajar spotted a figure leaning heavily against a stone wall.

It was Zero. The silver-haired prefect looked like death warmed over. His uniform was rumpled, dark circles hung under his eyes, and he was taking shallow, ragged breaths. He had just finished a grueling night patrol keeping the Level E vampires out of the woods and away from the academy.

Fajar didn’t break his stride. He casually jogged right up to Zero, his breathing completely silent, entirely unaffected by the three miles he had just run.

“Morning, Zero,” Fajar chirped cheerfully, jogging in place for a moment. “Beautiful morning for a run, isn’t it? Though you look like you just went twelve rounds with a concrete mixer.”

Zero’s hand twitched toward his coat. He glared at Fajar, his lilac eyes bloodshot. “What are you doing out here, transfer? The Day Class isn’t allowed out of the dorms until 6:30.”

“Just getting some cardio in,” Fajar smiled, stretching his arms over his head. He subtly activated his Sensory Overclocking, listening to Zero’s heartbeat. It was a chaotic mess—a desperate struggle between his human biology and the vampire venom slowly mutating his cells. “You should try it. A good run flushes out the lactic acid and toxins. Whatever you’re dealing with, standing around brooding in the cold isn’t helping your circulation.”

“Shut up,” Zero snarled, pushing off the wall. “Go back to your dorm before I write you up for a curfew violation.”

Fajar chuckled, completely unfazed by the killing intent rolling off the prefect. “Alright, alright. I’m going. Make sure you drink some water, Zero. Dehydration makes the brooding look less mysterious and more sickly.”

Leaving Zero grinding his teeth in frustration, Fajar smoothly transitioned back into his jog, heading toward the Sun Dormitory for a quick shower before breakfast.

[Day 2 - 10:15 AM: Physical Education Class]

By mid-morning, Fajar had fully integrated into the Day Class routine. He had eaten a massive, protein-heavy breakfast (to fuel his muscle regeneration) and spent his first two periods sitting perfectly still, secretly running The Bone Wash cultivation while the teachers lectured.

Now, it was time for P.E.

The Day Class boys were gathered on the athletic field. The P.E. teacher, a gruff man with a clipboard, blew his whistle.

“Alright, listen up!” the teacher barked. “Today is the physical fitness assessment! We’re running the obstacle course. I want to see speed, agility, and upper body strength. The school record is 1 minute and 45 seconds, set by Captain Takahashi of the Kendo Club. Form a line!”

The obstacle course was standard military-style: a rope climb, a balance beam, a ten-foot wall to scale, a low-crawl under netting, and a tire run.

The Day Class boys groaned. One by one, they ran the course. Most of them fumbled, slipping on the wall or gassing out on the rope climb, clocking in around three or four minutes.

“Purnama! You’re up!” the teacher called out.

Fajar stepped up to the starting line. He wore the standard white P.E. shirt and shorts. His classmates watched curiously; rumors of him effortlessly disarming Takahashi in the Kendo club yesterday had already spread like wildfire.

“Whenever you’re ready,” the teacher clicked his stopwatch.

Fajar didn’t crouch into a sprinter’s stance. He simply stood there, perfectly relaxed.

Go.

Fajar exploded forward. He didn’t use an ounce of internal Qi or magical reinforcement. This was pure, unadulterated Phase I: Reality.

He hit the tire run not by stepping into the holes, but by lightly tapping the very edges of the rubber with his toes, practically gliding over them in a straight line. He reached the ten-foot wooden wall. Instead of jumping and scrambling for a grip like the others, Fajar didn’t even slow down. He took one step onto the vertical face of the wood, converted his forward momentum directly into upward kinetic energy (a basic parkour wall-run), caught the top edge with his fingers, and vaulted over it in a single, fluid motion.

The Day Class boys went completely silent.

He hit the dirt on the other side and dropped into a primal, low-ground crawl under the netting. Because he had practiced ground mechanics so thoroughly, he moved like a striking snake, his hips entirely disconnected from the resistance of the dirt. He popped out the other side, leaped onto the balance beam, and sprinted across it as if it were a wide sidewalk.

Finally, the rope climb. Fajar grabbed the thick hemp rope. Instead of using his legs to pinch and pull, he simply clamped his hands and pulled his entire body weight up using only his lats and core, hand-over-hand, flying up the twenty-foot rope in four seconds flat. He tapped the bell at the top, slid down, and jogged casually across the finish line.

He wasn’t even breathing heavily.

The teacher stared at his stopwatch, his jaw slightly open.

“One minute… and twelve seconds,” the teacher muttered in disbelief. He looked up at Fajar, who was casually rolling his shoulders to stay loose. “Purnama… what kind of training did you do at your old school?”

Fajar grinned, a completely carefree, ordinary high-schooler smile. “Just basic calisthenics, sir. I like to stay active.”

The other students erupted.

“Dude! Are you a ninja?!” Sayori yelled, running over. “That wall vault was insane! You didn’t even grab it!” another boy cheered.

Fajar laughed, easily absorbing the attention. This was exactly what he wanted—the peak high school experience, surrounded by awestruck peers, completely breaking the mold of the fragile, helpless human.

As the class ended and the students headed toward the locker rooms to change before lunch, Fajar felt a massive wave of satisfaction. His baseline vessel was adapting beautifully.

What will Fajar do during the lunch break?

A) The VIP Experience: Fajar uses his newfound popularity from P.E. class to gather a large group of Day Class students. He wants to experience the vibrant high school life by organizing a massive, impromptu picnic in the courtyard, officially establishing himself as the charismatic center of the Day Class social circle. B) The Blindfolded Rooftop: Fajar ditches the crowds. He sneaks up to the roof of the main building, blindfolds himself, and spends the entire lunch period in deep meditation. He focuses purely on Tier 2: Intent/Radar, trying to extend his senses to cover the entire campus and locate where the vampires are sleeping. C) The Headmaster’s Tea: Fajar goes straight to Headmaster Cross’s office. He brings two canned coffees and casually drops in to chat with the Headmaster, treating the deadliest ex-Hunter in history like a regular buddy, aiming to build a rapport and test the Headmaster’s philosophy on strength. D) [Custom Action] Tell me what Fajar does!

---

[Day 2 - 12:30 PM: Lunch Break]

While the rest of the Day Class boys were busy recounting Fajar’s legendary P.E. performance, the man himself had quietly slipped away from the crowds.

Fajar walked past the bustling courtyard and headed straight for the dense, ancient woods that bordered the eastern edge of Cross Academy. The trees here were massive, their thick canopies blocking out most of the midday sun, creating a natural, isolated training ground.

He stopped at the edge of a steep, uneven ravine filled with exposed roots, jagged rocks, and low-hanging branches. It was a completely chaotic environment. Perfect.

Fajar reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick strip of black cloth he had torn from a spare shirt. He wrapped it tightly around his eyes, tying it in a knot at the back of his head. He plunged himself into absolute darkness.

Phase I: Sensory Overclocking. Phase II: Intent/Radar.

“Eyes are a crutch,” Fajar muttered to himself, steadying his breathing. “They process light, and light can be tricked. Magic can cast illusions. Vampires move faster than the optic nerve can track. If I rely on my eyes, I will die.”

He took a deep breath, dropping his center of gravity.

He sprinted forward.

Immediately, the chaotic terrain punished him. Without his vision to map the exact distance of the ravine, Fajar’s foot caught hard on a massive, hidden tree root. His momentum violently pitched him forward, and he crashed shoulder-first into the unforgiving dirt, tumbling down a small incline and scraping his elbows on the rocks.

He laid there for a second, feeling the sharp sting of torn skin and bruised muscle. His baseline human body throbbed in pain.

Fajar smiled. He pushed himself off the ground, wiped the dirt from his mouth, and didn’t touch the blindfold.

“Again.”

He ran back up the incline and started over. He sprinted again. This time, he tried to listen to the crunch of the leaves to gauge the incline, but a sudden gust of wind masked the sound. He leaped to grab what he thought was a sturdy branch, completely missed it, and slammed chest-first into the trunk of a massive oak tree. The impact knocked the wind completely out of his lungs. He slid to the ground, coughing violently.

“Too slow,” he wheezed, forcing himself back to his feet. “I’m just guessing. I need to feel it before it happens.”

For the next forty minutes, the woods echoed with the sound of brutal, relentless impacts. Fajar slipped, crashed, and fell over and over again. His white P.E. shirt was stained with dirt and small patches of blood. His forearms were bruised, and his knuckles were scraped raw. But every time he fell, his cosmic mind forcefully rewired his mortal nervous system.

He began to shift his focus away from simply listening, and toward Intent. Even inanimate objects possessed a presence—a displacement of air, a density that altered the atmospheric pressure around them.

Don’t look for the tree, Fajar thought, his chest heaving as he stood at the starting point for the twentieth time. Feel the space where the air stops moving.

He exploded forward.

Three steps in, he felt a subtle, heavy pressure approaching his shins—the tree root. He effortlessly bounded over it. He landed on the uneven rocks, his ankles instantly micro-adjusting to the awkward angles without his brain needing to process the visual geometry.

He sensed a massive, dense wall of pressure dead ahead—the oak tree. Without slowing down, Fajar planted his foot onto the trunk, ran two steps horizontally up the bark, and launched himself backward. Mid-air, he reached out his hand, his fingers naturally closing around a thick branch perfectly positioned above him.

He swung on the branch, flipped through the air, and landed flawlessly in a silent crouch on the other side of the ravine.

Fajar slowly reached up and pulled the blindfold off. He looked back at the chaotic obstacle course he had just traversed perfectly in absolute darkness. His lungs were burning, his body was battered, but a fierce, triumphant grin spread across his face.

Observation Haki isn’t unlocked in a day, he thought, but the foundation is laid.

The distant ringing of the school bell echoed through the trees. Lunch was over.

Fajar quickly jogged to an outdoor water spigot near the gymnasium. He washed the dirt and blood off his face and arms, ignoring the stinging pain of his bruises. He threw his Day Class uniform blazer back on, which conveniently hid the worst of the scrapes, and casually strolled into his afternoon history class exactly on time, looking as carefree and relaxed as ever.

[Day 2 - 4:00 PM: After School]

The final bell rang, signaling the end of the academic day. The Day Class students immediately began packing their bags, chatting excitedly about dinner and the upcoming Night Class transition.

Fajar stretched in his chair, feeling the deep ache in his muscles from his brutal blindfolded parkour session. His body was screaming for calories and deep meditation to heal the micro-tears.

As he packed his bag, he noticed Zero Kiryu hastily leaving the classroom. The silver-haired prefect looked worse than he had that morning. He was sweating slightly, his breathing was shallow, and he was clutching his chest, practically stumbling out the door. The bloodlust was clearly ravaging him from the inside out.

Yuki quickly packed her things to chase after him, looking deeply concerned.

What will Fajar do?

A) The Interception: Fajar follows Zero. He uses his stealth to track the prefect to a secluded spot. He wants to confront Zero privately, offering non-magical, bio-mechanical advice (like deep breathing or pressure points) to help Zero manage his “mysterious illness,” establishing himself as a surprisingly perceptive ally. B) Let Canon Play Out: Zero’s breakdown is a necessary part of the timeline. Fajar ignores them, heads straight to the cafeteria to consume a massive amount of food for recovery, and returns to his room to begin a grueling session of Phase II cultivation to heal his bruised body. C) The Distraction: Fajar sees Yuki looking incredibly stressed. He intercepts Yuki instead, using his carefree charm to distract her and invite her to hang out with him and some other Day Class students, attempting to relieve her of her heavy burdens for just one afternoon. D) [Custom Action] Tell me what Fajar does!

---

Chapter 1.3 Fajar Yuki Zero Vampire

[Day 2 - 4:05 PM: The Interception]

Yuki sprinted down the hallway, her heart pounding. Zero had never looked that sick before. As she rounded the corner toward the back exit of the school building, a hand gently caught her shoulder, stopping her momentum perfectly without jerking her back.

“Whoa, slow down,” Fajar said with a relaxed smile, his school bag slung casually over one shoulder. “You look like you’re about to run into a burning building.”

“Fajar! Let go, I have to find Zero. He looked like he was in terrible pain, I need to make sure he’s okay!” Yuki pleaded, trying to pull away.

“I noticed,” Fajar replied, falling perfectly into step beside her as she started running again. “He was clutching his chest and sweating through his blazer. Looks like a severe fever or a panic attack. I’ll come with you. If he passes out, you won’t be able to carry him back to the infirmary on your own.”

Yuki nodded gratefully, too worried to argue. “Thank you. He usually goes to the old stables when he needs to be alone.”

Fajar seamlessly activated Sensory Overclocking. As they approached the isolated wooden stables on the edge of the campus, Fajar didn’t need his eyes to know what was inside. The air was thick with the heavy, metallic scent of bloodlust. Zero’s heartbeat was echoing like a frantic war drum, erratic and completely devoid of human rhythm.

Yuki pushed the stable doors open. “Zero? Are you in here?”

In the dimly lit stalls, Zero was on his knees, clutching his throat. He was gasping for air, his fingernails digging into his own flesh. As he looked up at Yuki, the shadows retreated from his face.

Yuki froze, her breath catching in her throat.

Zero’s lilac eyes were glowing a terrifying, feral crimson. From his upper gums, two elongated, razor-sharp fangs had descended. The strict, disciplined prefect was gone. In his place was a starving predator.

“Zero…?” Yuki whispered in sheer horror. “You… you’re a…”

“Get away… from me!” Zero choked out, his voice distorted into a guttural growl. But his body betrayed his words. The scent of Yuki’s sweet, pure blood flooded his senses, completely overriding his rational mind.

With a terrifying, inhuman hiss, Zero lunged. He crossed the ten feet between them in a fraction of a second, his hands reaching to pin Yuki’s shoulders, his fangs aiming directly for the carotid artery in her neck.

Yuki didn’t even have time to blink.

But Fajar didn’t need to see the speed. He had already read the Intent.

Wild. Predictable. Over-committed, Fajar analyzed in a microsecond.

Before Zero’s hands could even touch Yuki, Fajar casually stepped horizontally, placing himself directly between them. Fajar didn’t brace for impact; he simply turned his hips.

As Zero crashed into Fajar’s airspace, Fajar raised his left hand, seamlessly catching Zero’s extended right wrist. Instead of stopping the superhuman momentum—which would have shattered a normal human’s arm—Fajar pulled Zero forward, redirecting the vampire’s kinetic energy entirely.

Zero stumbled forward, completely off-balance. Fajar pivoted smoothly, bringing his right elbow up in a flawless, devastating strike directly to the bundle of nerves beneath Zero’s armpit (the brachial plexus).

Zero let out a choked gasp as his entire right arm went instantly numb. But the feral bloodlust drove him forward. He spun wildly, unleashing a massive, sweeping backhand aimed at Fajar’s head.

Fajar ducked the strike with a millimeter to spare, feeling the displacement of air ruffle his hair. No technique. Just raw strength, Fajar thought, maintaining his completely calm, metronomic breathing.

Fajar stepped into Zero’s guard. He delivered a rapid succession of precise, bare-handed strikes—a palm thrust to the solar plexus to expel the oxygen from Zero’s lungs, immediately followed by a low, sweeping kick to the back of Zero’s left knee.

Zero’s leg buckled, dropping him to a kneeling position.

Furious, Zero bared his fangs and lunged upward, trying to tackle Fajar by the waist.

“You’re broadcasting your attacks three seconds before you throw them, Zero,” Fajar said casually.

Fajar sidestepped the tackle. As Zero lunged past him, Fajar locked his arms around Zero’s neck from behind. He didn’t try to snap the neck—vampire durability would resist that. Instead, Fajar applied a flawless Rear Naked Choke. He locked his bicep directly over Zero’s right carotid artery, his forearm over the left, and clamped his hands together behind Zero’s head, pressing his chest firmly into Zero’s back to completely lock the spine.

“Let go!” Zero roared, thrashing wildly. He grabbed Fajar’s forearms with superhuman strength, trying to pry them apart.

“Strength doesn’t matter if there’s no blood flowing to your brain,” Fajar replied calmly, tightening the chokehold with absolute biomechanical perfection. “Close your eyes, Zero. Just go to sleep.”

Fajar squeezed, cutting off the blood flow to Zero’s brain entirely. For five violent seconds, Zero thrashed, his claws tearing Fajar’s uniform sleeves, leaving shallow cuts on Fajar’s arms. But Fajar remained an immovable mountain, his intent crushing Zero’s feral frenzy.

On the sixth second, Zero’s crimson eyes rolled back into his head. His superhuman grip slackened. His body went completely limp.

Fajar gently lowered the unconscious vampire to the hay-covered floor, releasing the chokehold to ensure permanent brain damage didn’t occur. He stretched his arms, looking down at his torn sleeves. “Man, this was a brand new blazer.”

He turned to look at Yuki. She was slumped against the stable wall, her hands covering her mouth, shaking uncontrollably from the sheer shock of discovering her closest friend was a vampire—and watching the new transfer student dismantle him in under ten seconds without breaking a sweat.

“F-Fajar…” Yuki stammered, wide-eyed. “What… what did you just do? How did you…”

“I just redirected his momentum and put him to sleep,” Fajar smiled warmly, offering her a hand to help her stand. “He’s fine. Just a temporary reset for his nervous system. Looks like he’s dealing with a pretty severe condition, huh?”

Yuki took his hand, her mind completely overwhelmed. “I… I didn’t know. I swear, Fajar, I didn’t know he was one of them.”

“It’s okay, Yuki. People keep secrets when they’re scared,” Fajar said gently. He crouched down, hoisted Zero’s unconscious body over his shoulders in a textbook fireman’s carry, and balanced the weight perfectly on his hips. “Come on. Let’s get him to the Headmaster. I have a feeling Kaien Cross knows exactly what’s going on.”

[Headmaster’s Office - 4:20 PM]

Fajar kicked the double doors of the Headmaster’s office open, casually carrying the unconscious prefect inside. Yuki hurried in right behind him, her face still pale.

Headmaster Cross looked up from his paperwork. His comedic facade vanished instantly at the sight of Zero’s limp body and the bloodstains on Fajar’s torn sleeves.

“What happened?” Kaien asked, his voice suddenly dropping an octave into the cold, sharp tone of a legendary Hunter.

“He had a feral episode in the stables,” Fajar explained, casually dropping Zero onto the plush leather sofa in the office. “He tried to bite Yuki. I stepped in and put him to sleep via carotid compression. He’s physically unharmed.”

Kaien looked from the unconscious Zero, to the trembling Yuki, and finally to Fajar. The Headmaster’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. To subdue a frenzied vampire bare-handed without killing them required a level of martial mastery that bordered on the impossible for a teenager.

“You subdued him… without a weapon?” Kaien asked quietly.

“Weapons are just extensions of the body, Headmaster,” Fajar smiled, brushing some hay off his trousers. “Zero’s mind is a mess. His intentions were loud, his balance was completely off, and his strikes were wild. Subduing him was just basic geometry.”

Kaien let out a long, heavy sigh, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I see. Yuki, my dear… I am so sorry you had to find out this way. Zero was bitten by a Pureblood four years ago. I have been trying to halt the transformation, but it seems his time is running out.”

Yuki fell to her knees beside the sofa, tears streaming down her face as she looked at Zero’s peaceful, unconscious face. “Why didn’t he tell me? Why did he suffer alone?”

Fajar stood near the door, silently observing the melodrama. He had successfully altered the canon. Yuki was unbitten, Zero was subdued, and Headmaster Cross now knew exactly what Fajar was capable of.

What will Fajar do next?

A) The Confession: Fajar decides to drop the “normal student” act with the Headmaster. He tells Kaien that he knows about the vampires, the Hunters, and the broken system of this world, offering to train Zero to control his bloodlust through Neuro-Somatic Cultivation instead of relying on magic. B) The Carefree Exit: The drama is too heavy for him right now. Fajar leaves Zero in their care, casually asks Headmaster Cross to excuse his torn uniform, and heads to the cafeteria for an early dinner, acting like fighting a vampire was just a minor inconvenience. C) The Blood Substitute: Fajar uses his cosmic knowledge. He suggests to Headmaster Cross that they need to synthesize blood tablets or find an alternative immediately, offering his own highly-cultivated blood as a temporary, non-addictive stabilizer to wake Zero up safely. D) [Custom Action] Tell me what Fajar does!

---

Fajar didn’t strike a dramatic pose, nor did he launch into a monologue about his true origins or his cosmic knowledge. He simply leaned his back against the mahogany door frame, crossed his arms, and looked at the Headmaster with a perfectly calm, expectant smile.

“I don’t know what kind of drama is going on here,” Fajar said smoothly, breaking the heavy silence. “But considering the school prefect just sprouted fangs, moved fast enough to break a normal human’s neck, and tried to drink her blood… I’d say you owe me an explanation, Headmaster. And more importantly, I want to know what we can do to help him.”

Kaien Cross stared at Fajar for a long, silent moment. The Headmaster’s sharp eyes analyzed the teenage boy leaning against the door. There was no fear in Fajar’s posture. No shock. Just the calm, calculating presence of a seasoned warrior assessing a battlefield casualty.

Cross let out a deep sigh, the tension draining from his shoulders. He walked over to his desk and leaned against it.

“You are a remarkably composed young man, Fajar,” Kaien said quietly. “Most humans would be screaming in terror, or running for the police.”

“Panic wastes oxygen,” Fajar replied casually. “So, what are we dealing with? A biological mutation? A virus?”

Yuki looked up from Zero’s unconscious form, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Fajar… you just saw a vampire. A real monster. How are you so calm?!”

“Yuki, there are no monsters. Just creatures with different biological needs,” Fajar said gently, offering her a reassuring smile. “If a lion tries to bite you, you don’t call it evil, you just dodge the teeth. Now, Headmaster. The truth?”

Kaien nodded slowly. “Very well. Cross Academy was founded on a secret. The Night Class… are all vampires. Elite, aristocratic vampires. My dream is to create a world where humans and vampires can coexist peacefully. I brought them here to prove it can be done.”

Fajar nodded, taking the world-shattering revelation entirely in stride. “Okay. A political integration experiment. I get it. But Zero isn’t one of them. He doesn’t move like them, and his intent was totally erratic. He’s fighting himself.”

“Exactly,” Kaien said, his voice laced with sorrow. “Zero was born human. He comes from a long line of Vampire Hunters. Four years ago, his family was slaughtered by a Pureblood vampire. During the attack, Zero was bitten. When a human is bitten by a Pureblood, they do not die… they slowly, agonizingly transform into a vampire themselves. Eventually, they lose their minds completely and become feral beasts known as Level Es.”

Yuki covered her mouth, fresh tears spilling over her cheeks. “Zero… he’s been hiding this for four years? Fighting this all by himself?”

“He hates vampires more than anything in the world,” Kaien explained. “His sheer willpower has kept the transformation at bay for longer than I thought medically possible. But his body is finally breaking down. The thirst is taking over.”

Fajar looked at Zero’s peaceful, sleeping face. Willpower without proper physical discipline, Fajar thought. He’s using sheer anger to suppress a biological urge. It’s like trying to hold back a river with your bare hands. Eventually, your muscles give out.

“So, what’s the treatment?” Fajar asked, shifting his weight. “You wouldn’t run a school full of vampires without a food source. You must have a substitute.”

Kaien opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small, glass vial filled with white pills. “Blood Tablets. They dissolve in water and synthesize a blood substitute. It sustains the Night Class. But Zero… his mind rejects them. Because he hates what he is becoming, his body literally violently rejects the tablets. He vomits them up. He is starving to death, Fajar.”

“The mind and the body are out of sync,” Fajar summarized simply. “He views the tablets as accepting his defeat, so his nervous system treats them like poison.”

“Precisely,” Kaien said. “And if he does not feed soon, the feral state will become permanent. I… I have been trying to find a solution, but time is running out.”

Fajar walked over to the sofa and looked down at Zero. He could still hear the chaotic, disjointed rhythm of the boy’s heartbeat. Zero was strong, incredibly strong, but his foundation was built on self-loathing instead of balance. Fajar’s philosophy—that anyone can become strong, and that humans and vampires are not bound by predator/prey dynamics—was exactly what Zero needed to hear, and more importantly, what his body needed to learn.

What will Fajar do next?

A) The Mental Reset (Training Offer): Fajar tells the Headmaster that the problem is psychological, not just biological. He offers to teach Zero Phase I: Mental Reset and Bio-Maintenance when he wakes up. By teaching Zero how to meditate and control his nervous system, Fajar aims to help him accept the blood tablets without his body rejecting them. B) The Force-Feed: There is no time for therapy. Zero is dying of starvation. Fajar takes the blood tablets, crushes them into a glass of water, and uses his precise martial arts knowledge of the human throat/swallowing reflex to carefully force Zero to ingest the liquid while he is still semi-unconscious, bypassing his psychological rejection entirely. C) The Confrontation with the Source: Fajar realizes the Night Class’s presence on campus is actively triggering Zero’s PTSD and accelerating his decline. Fajar decides to leave the office and casually walk straight into the Moon Dormitory to have a “friendly chat” with Kaname Kuran about Zero’s condition, entirely disregarding the rules. D) [Custom Action] Tell me what Fajar does!

---

[Headmaster’s Office - 4:25 PM]

Kaien Cross looked down at the crushed blood tablets in his hand, his expression heavy with defeat. “If his body continues to reject the synthesized tablets, the starvation will consume his brain. The feral state will become permanent. At that point… the Hunter Association will order his execution.”

Yuki’s breath hitched. She looked at Zero, lying pale and unconscious on the sofa. He had suffered so much, fought so hard in absolute silence, all to protect her and the other Day Class students from the monsters he despised.

She couldn’t let him die. She couldn’t let him become a monster.

“There’s another way,” Yuki said, her voice trembling but filled with sudden, desperate resolve.

Headmaster Cross looked up, his eyes widening. “Yuki… no. You cannot. It is too dangerous.”

“He needs blood to survive, right? Real blood?” Yuki walked over to the sofa and knelt beside Zero. She gently brushed the silver hair out of his face. She pulled her uniform collar slightly to the side, exposing the pale skin of her neck. “If he wakes up… I’ll let him drink. I can give him what he needs to stay sane.”

Kaien stepped forward, conflicted. “Yuki, if you do this, you cross a line that cannot be uncrossed. You will become his lifeline.”

“I don’t care,” Yuki cried softly. “I won’t let him die!”

Suddenly, a hand gently but firmly grasped Yuki’s shoulder, pulling her away from Zero.

Yuki looked up in surprise. Fajar was standing over her, his carefree smile entirely gone. In its place was a look of absolute, unyielding authority. The ambient temperature in the room seemed to drop as Fajar’s presence expanded—the very beginnings of Phase VI: Reality Domination.

“No,” Fajar said, his voice quiet but carrying a weight that brooked absolutely no argument. “You aren’t doing that, Yuki.”

“Fajar, let me go! You don’t understand, he’s going to die—”

“He’s not going to die,” Fajar interrupted calmly, stepping between Yuki and the sofa. “But you are not food. Humans are not livestock. If you offer your neck to him now, you aren’t saving him. You’re just validating his worst fear—that he is a monster, and you are his prey. You will destroy his pride, and you will chain yourself to him as a blood bag.”

Headmaster Cross adjusted his glasses, watching Fajar with intense scrutiny. “Fajar… the boy is starving. Philosophy cannot rewrite biology. If he does not ingest the tablets or consume blood, his nervous system will shut down.”

Fajar looked down at Zero. The vampire was beginning to stir, his brow furrowing in pain as the feral hunger fought against the unconsciousness Fajar had forced upon him. Fajar cracked his knuckles.

“His biology is rebelling because his mind is weak,” Fajar stated flatly. “His body rejects the tablets because his brain tells his stomach they are poison. We don’t need to feed him human blood. We just need to manually bypass his mental block.”

How will Fajar save Zero without breaking his philosophy?

A) The Martial Arts Force-Feed: Fajar asks Kaien for the dissolved blood tablets. When Zero wakes up feral, Fajar physically restrains him using advanced grappling, forces his jaw open, pours the liquid down his throat, and uses acupressure/Qi strikes on Zero’s throat and stomach meridians to forcefully trigger the swallowing and digestion reflex, bypassing Zero’s psychological rejection entirely. B) The Blood Medicine (Infused Qi): Fajar refuses to let Yuki be prey, but recognizes raw blood is needed this once to stabilize the feral state. Fajar cuts his own palm, but infuses his blood heavily with Phase II Qi (Internal Energy). He feeds it to Zero not as a meal, but as a burning, potent medicine. The Qi will violently shock Zero’s system, stabilizing the vampire virus but causing intense physical pain, teaching Zero that human blood isn’t just sweet food—it can be a weapon. C) The Mental Dive (Neuro-Somatic Shock): Fajar places his hand on Zero’s chest and uses his newly unlocked Phase II Qi to directly invade Zero’s nervous system. Fajar forcefully imposes a Mental Reset onto Zero, shocking the vampire’s brain out of the PTSD loop and forcing his body into a state of absolute calm so he can willingly drink the tablets himself. D) [Custom Action] Tell me what Fajar does!

---

[Headmaster’s Office - 4:26 PM]

Fajar’s grip on Yuki’s shoulder was firm but gentle, grounding her frantic energy. He looked down at her exposed neck, and then met her tear-filled eyes.

“You can give him your blood, Yuki,” Fajar said quietly, his voice carrying the calm, absolute authority of his cosmic intent. “But not your neck. Never your neck.”

Yuki blinked, confused and desperate. “What difference does it make? He’s starving!”

“It makes all the difference in the world,” Fajar explained, his gaze shifting to the twitching, feral form of the silver-haired prefect. “The neck is a symbol of submission. It’s where predators strike to kill their prey. If you bare your throat to him now, you are telling his subconscious that he is a monster, and you are his food. You will break his pride forever.”

Headmaster Cross watched Fajar, his sharp eyes widening slightly as he grasped the profound psychological truth in the teenager’s words.

“Give him your arm,” Fajar instructed, releasing her shoulder. “Offer it with dignity. Not as a sacrifice to a beast, but as medicine to a sick friend. You are an equal, Yuki. Act like it.”

Yuki took a deep, shuddering breath. The panic in her chest began to subside, replaced by a grounded, resolute strength. She nodded. She pulled her collar back up, covering her throat. Instead, she unbuttoned the cuff of her left sleeve and rolled it up to her elbow, exposing her pale forearm.

On the sofa, Zero gasped. His eyes snapped open, blazing with a terrifying, feral crimson. He lunged forward, driven purely by the agonizing starvation of his mutating cells.

Yuki didn’t flinch. She knelt down, holding her arm out straight and steady. “Drink, Zero. Just enough to wake up.”

Zero grabbed her wrist with trembling, superhuman strength. He buried his fangs deep into her forearm.

Yuki let out a sharp gasp of pain, her eyes squeezing shut. But she held her ground, refusing to pull away. The silence in the office was heavy, broken only by the sound of Zero desperately consuming the one thing that could anchor his fraying sanity.

Fajar didn’t just stand by and watch. He stepped forward and knelt beside Yuki.

“Breathe, Yuki. Deep into your diaphragm,” Fajar murmured.

He placed his right hand gently over Yuki’s bicep, just inches above where Zero was biting her. Fajar closed his eyes, bypassing his physical senses entirely and dropping seamlessly into Phase II: The 12 Great Meridians.

He had only just begun unlocking his internal Qi the night before, but his cosmic understanding of the human nervous system was flawless. He focused his newly awakened energy, pushing a thread of warm, vibrating Qi through his palm and directly into Yuki’s arm.

He applied Neuro-Somatic Cultivation, not to himself, but outward. He used his Qi to temporarily intercept the pain signals firing from Yuki’s torn flesh, artificially dulling the agony. Then, he stimulated the blood vessels around the bite, forcing the surrounding muscle tissue to constrict and prepare for immediate clotting.

Yuki’s tense shoulders suddenly dropped. Her eyes fluttered open in shock. The sharp, burning agony of the vampire bite had miraculously faded into a dull, manageable ache. She looked at Fajar’s hand resting on her arm, feeling an inexplicable, soothing warmth radiating from his skin.

Headmaster Cross stepped forward, his jaw tightly clenched. He could not sense magic from Fajar—because it wasn’t magic—but he could clearly see the physical results. The frantic thumping of Yuki’s pulse in her neck had visibly slowed to a calm, resting rate. Fajar was physically stabilizing her nervous system through sheer touch.

Slowly, the frantic, erratic sounds of Zero’s feral feeding began to slow. The sweet, pure blood flooded his starving system, forcefully resetting his mutating biology.

Zero pulled back, gasping for air.

The crimson glow faded from his eyes, returning to their natural, melancholic lilac. His fangs retracted. He stared at the blood on his lips, and then down at the puncture wounds on Yuki’s offered forearm.

The realization of what he had done hit him like a physical blow. Horror, disgust, and profound self-loathing washed over his pale face. He backed away, pressing himself against the back of the sofa, trembling violently.

“I… what did I do…” Zero whispered, his voice cracking with despair. “Yuki… I drank your…”

“You took your medicine, Zero,” Fajar interrupted. His voice cut through Zero’s spiraling panic like a blade.

Fajar removed his hand from Yuki’s arm. Because of his Qi stimulation, the puncture wounds were barely bleeding; the blood had already begun to coagulate perfectly. He handed Yuki a clean handkerchief from his pocket.

Zero looked up at the new transfer student, his eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and shame.

“She didn’t surrender to you, and she isn’t your prey,” Fajar said casually, standing up and dusting off his trousers. “She offered you a lifeline, and you took it. But this was just triage.”

Fajar looked down at the trembling hunter. Fajar’s intent—steady, unshakeable, and entirely devoid of pity or fear—washed over the room.

“Your body is starving because your mind is at war with itself, Zero,” Fajar stated factually. “You’re trying to use anger to stop a biological mutation. It’s inefficient, and it’s pathetic. But the good news is, biology can be hacked, and minds can be rewired.”

Fajar picked up his school bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Rest up, Prefect. Today we stabilized the vessel,” Fajar said, flashing a carefree, ordinary high-schooler smile as he headed for the door. “Tomorrow, we start fixing your foundation. I’ll see you in class.”

Leaving Headmaster Cross, Yuki, and a completely stunned Zero in the silence of the office, Fajar casually walked out into the hallway, ready to grab some dinner.

---

[Day 2 - 6:00 PM: The Sun Dormitory]

Fajar returned to his room after a massive dinner in the cafeteria. The sun had completely set, and the campus was once again under the heavy, aristocratic rule of the Night Class.

He locked his door, pushed his desk against the wall to clear the center of the room, and pulled out the torn strip of black cloth. From this moment on, visual input during solitary training was obsolete. He tied the blindfold tightly over his eyes, plunging himself into absolute, unbroken darkness.

Phase I: Sensory Overclocking. Phase II: Intent/Radar.

He began his martial arts forms. Without his sight to rely on for balance, his inner ear and spatial awareness had to compensate instantly. He moved through his CQC routines, throwing rapid, devastating elbow strikes, knee thrusts, and sweeping kicks against phantom opponents. He practiced his knife-fighting forms empty-handed, his fingers held rigid in the chopping form, slicing through the air with such precise, terrifying velocity that it created faint whistling sounds in the quiet room.

Because he couldn’t see the walls, he had to feel them. He mapped the exact dimensions of his room by sensing the subtle shift in air pressure as his strikes stopped mere millimeters away from the plaster.

After two hours of relentless, blindfolded physical combat, his baseline muscles were burning. Fajar didn’t take the blindfold off. He simply dropped into a perfect lotus position in the center of the floor, syncing his breathing to a painfully slow, metronomic rhythm.

Phase II: The 12 Great Meridians.

Deprived of sight, his internal vision became infinitely sharper. He directed his entire consciousness to his lower Dantian. The tiny ember of Qi he had ignited last night was waiting.

With absolute focus, he visualized the energy. He began to push it upward, forcefully driving the Qi through the dormant, clogged meridian pathways of his human vessel. The pain was excruciating—a searing, localized heat burning through his nervous system—but Fajar’s cosmic willpower remained unshakeable. He pushed the energy through his chest, down his arms, and into his fingertips, clearing the blockages millimeter by millimeter.

He maintained this blindfolded state of deep cultivation for hours, merging his martial intent with his growing internal energy, forging his vessel in the dark.

[Day 3 - 3:30 PM: The Headmaster’s Office]

The next day of classes passed smoothly. Fajar played the role of the charismatic, athletic transfer student flawlessly, continuing his internal Neuro-Somatic conditioning during lectures.

When the final bell rang, Fajar packed his bag and casually strolled straight to the main building. It was time to follow up on the patient.

He knocked once and pushed the heavy mahogany doors open.

Inside, the atmosphere was incredibly tense. Headmaster Cross was sitting behind his desk, looking unusually serious. Yuki stood near the window, a neat white bandage wrapped around her left forearm, looking exhausted but relieved.

Sitting on the leather sofa was Zero. He looked entirely different from yesterday. The feral, starved pallor was gone, replaced by a healthy, albeit pale, complexion. However, his posture was a mess. He sat hunched over, his hands clasped tightly together, staring at the floor with an expression of profound shame and self-loathing. The realization that he had fed on his best friend—even if it was her arm—was tearing his pride to shreds.

As Fajar walked in, completely relaxed with his hands in his pockets, all three of them looked up.

Headmaster Cross adjusted his glasses. Zero tensed, his lilac eyes locking onto Fajar, remembering the absolute, overwhelming force with which this “normal” human had choked him into unconsciousness.

“Fajar,” Headmaster Cross said quietly. “We were just discussing what to do next. Zero’s physical condition is stabilized, but the psychological… aftermath is severe. You mentioned yesterday that you wanted to fix his foundation.”

Fajar stepped into the center of the room. He looked at Yuki’s bandaged arm, then at Zero’s broken posture, and finally met the Headmaster’s gaze.

We have reached the exact moment! The floor is yours, Creator.

What will Fajar say to Zero, Yuki, and the Headmaster right now? Tell me Fajar’s exact dialogue, his lesson plan for Zero, or any physical demonstrations he uses to prove his point!

---

[The Headmaster’s Office - 3:32 PM]

Fajar walked to the center of the office. He didn’t take a seat. He simply looked at Zero, whose eyes were still hollow with self-loathing.

“You hate them,” Fajar said, his voice entirely conversational, breaking the heavy silence. “You hate the Night Class because they look at humans and see walking juice boxes. They see livestock.”

Zero’s jaw tightened. “They are monsters. And now… I am one of them.”

“I am disgusted by the livestock mindset too,” Fajar replied smoothly. “But I don’t hate the creatures for it. I hate the arrogance. Hating someone just because they are a vampire is biologically ignorant, Zero. It is the exact same thing as hating a lion or a tiger because it eats meat. It’s the same as a vegetarian hating someone for eating a steak, or a human hating another human just because they were born on a different patch of dirt.”

Yuki blinked, completely thrown off guard by the comparison. “Fajar… they drink human blood. It’s not the same as eating a steak.”

“To their biology, it is,” Fajar corrected gently. He looked back at the silver-haired prefect. “A creature’s diet doesn’t dictate its soul, Zero. A vampire who treats humans with respect is infinitely better than a human who treats other humans like garbage. I don’t know if you consider me a friend—we did just meet, and I did choke you unconscious—but I know you are Yuki’s friend. So, whether you are a human, a vampire, or something in between… to me, Zero is just Zero.”

Zero looked up, his lilac eyes widening slightly. For four years, he had lived in absolute terror of the day he would become a vampire, convinced it would strip away his humanity and make him a monster. Yet here was a boy who possessed the physical power to kill him effortlessly, completely indifferent to his fangs.

Fajar turned his gaze to the window, looking out toward the Moon Dormitory in the distance. He let out a quiet, almost pitying chuckle.

“You guys give them way too much credit,” Fajar said.

Headmaster Cross raised an eyebrow. “Credit? Fajar, they possess superhuman strength, speed, and magic.”

“And they are entirely dependent on a single, specific food source to survive, and they burst into flames if they stand in the sun for too long,” Fajar pointed out dryly. “Let me give you a hypothetical vision, Headmaster. Right now, humans are weak, so vampires rule the night. But suppose the opposite comes true. Suppose humanity figures out how to become truly, terrifyingly strong.”

Fajar turned back to face them, his presence filling the room with the heavy, undeniable weight of his cosmic intent.

“If that happens, the power dynamic flips instantly,” Fajar stated. “Vampires wouldn’t be the elite aristocrats anymore. Humanity would look at them, see their sunlight allergy and their violent reliance on blood, and classify them as a biological defect. A disease. If humans held the power, vampires would be oppressed. They’d become street rats hiding in the sewers, or worse, they’d be enslaved and weaponized. Honestly? Poor them.”

The silence in the office was deafening.

Yuki stared at Fajar, her mind struggling to comprehend the sheer audacity of his words. He was pitying the Night Class. He was looking at the most terrifying, beautiful, and powerful predators in the world, and seeing a fragile, endangered species.

Even Headmaster Cross was entirely speechless. Kaien had spent his entire life trying to protect humans from vampires, and now protecting vampires from human hunters. He had never once considered a reality where humanity simply outgrew them.

“Your philosophy is terrifyingly vast, Fajar,” Kaien finally said, his voice quiet and filled with a new, profound respect.

“It’s just reality,” Fajar smiled, his intense aura instantly vanishing as he shoved his hands back into his pockets, returning to his carefree demeanor. “I actually share your vision, Headmaster. Pacifism and coexistence. It’s the most efficient way to run a society. So, here’s my question for you.”

Fajar gestured between himself, Zero, and Yuki.

“Do you want me on the board, or do I stay on the sidelines?” Fajar asked directly. “I can keep playing the oblivious transfer student and stay in the Day Class. If you’re worried about the other students getting jealous or asking questions if I suddenly start hanging out with the Prefects, don’t be. I’ve been doing my own training. I can move around this campus entirely completely undetected. So, what’s the call, Boss?”

Headmaster Cross leaned back in his leather chair, folding his hands together over his desk. He looked at Zero, who was sitting up a little straighter, the crushing weight of his self-hatred momentarily fractured by Fajar’s logic. He looked at Yuki, who was watching Fajar with awe.

The legendary Vampire Hunter finally smiled.

“I think, Mr. Purnama,” Headmaster Cross said, “that the disciplinary committee could use a third Prefect.”

---

[The Headmaster’s Office - 3:35 PM]

Headmaster Cross reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a white armband with the word Prefect stitched into it. He held it out toward Fajar.

Fajar looked at the armband, then back at the Headmaster, and politely shook his head.

“I’m going to have to decline the uniform, Boss,” Fajar said casually.

Zero frowned, confused. “You just asked to be on the board.”

“I asked to be on the board, I didn’t ask to be a target,” Fajar corrected, leaning back. “Think about it logically. The Day Class girls are already obsessed with the Night Class. If the new transfer student suddenly gets a special armband and is openly allowed to hang out near the Moon Dormitory at night, it’s going to breed massive jealousy. The other students will get provoked. They’ll start breaking curfew just to see why I get special treatment, and someone is going to get hurt.”

Headmaster Cross slowly lowered the armband, seeing the absolute tactical wisdom in Fajar’s words. “A fair point. But how do you propose to help maintain order without the authority of the Committee?”

“I’ll operate in the shadows,” Fajar smiled. “I don’t need a piece of cloth to enforce a perimeter. Yuki and Zero can remain the public faces of the Disciplinary Committee. They handle the crowds, the curfews, and the official business. I’ll handle the blind spots. I’ll move undetected, observe the campus, and step in only when things get physical or if the Night Class steps out of line.”

“A Shadow Guardian…” Kaien mused, a genuine smile breaking across his face. “I see. You wish to remain the anomaly.”

“Exactly,” Fajar nodded. “But protecting the gates isn’t my only goal. If we want true coexistence, we need a bridge. And that bridge is discipline. I’m going to start looking for potential candidates—humans and vampires—who are interested in true martial arts. If I can get them bleeding and sweating on the same training mat, they’ll stop seeing each other as predators and prey. They’ll just see fellow martial artists.”

Zero let out a skeptical breath. “You think you can get an arrogant aristocratic vampire to spar with a human without using magic?”

Fajar grinned, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of a challenge. “I think once I show them what a human body is actually capable of, their pride won’t let them say no.”

Fajar turned to leave. “Keep taking your medicine, Zero. Yuki, take care of that arm. I’ve got some scouting to do.”

[Day 4 - 6:00 PM: The Scouting Phase Begins]

Over the next few days, Fajar fully embraced his role as the anomaly. During the day, he was just Fajar: the charismatic, highly athletic transfer student who occasionally helped out the Day Class students with their homework and effortlessly dominated P.E. class.

But during his free periods, and especially after the sun went down, Fajar vanished.

He utilized his Sensory Overclocking and Primal Movement to traverse the campus entirely undetected. He ran across rooftops, scaled the stone walls of the courtyards, and observed the student body from the shadows. He was looking for his first recruitment targets—people with the right temperament, physical potential, and open-mindedness to bridge the gap between species.

He narrowed it down to a few potential starting points.

What is Fajar’s first target for his Martial Arts Coexistence Project?

A) The Human Athlete (Captain Takahashi): Fajar targets the Kendo Club Captain from the Day Class. Takahashi is physically strong but relies too much on brute force. Fajar wants to officially join the Kendo Club to secretly train the human athletes in Phase I: Reality, building a baseline human squad capable of defending themselves. B) The Vampire Brawler (Akatsuki Kain): Fajar targets the Night Class. Through his shadow observations, Fajar notices Akatsuki Kain (the tall, stoic vampire with fire magic). Kain seems less arrogant than the others and possesses a heavy, grounded physical stance. Fajar wants to orchestrate a “chance encounter” in the woods at night to challenge Kain to a purely physical, bare-handed spar. C) The First Disciple (Zero Kiryu): Charity begins at home. Before Fajar recruits anyone else, he needs to fix Zero. Fajar intercepts Zero during his night patrol to begin forcefully teaching him Phase I: Mental Reset and Bio-Maintenance, aiming to turn the traumatized prefect into his first true martial arts disciple. D) [Custom Action] Tell me exactly who Fajar investigates or approaches!

---

Chapter 1.4 Sayori Wakaba and Fajar Purnama

[Day 1 - 9:30 PM: The Sun Dormitory, Girls’ Wing]

Sayori Wakaba—known to everyone as Yori—sat at her desk, quietly turning the page of her textbook. The Sun Dormitory was relatively peaceful tonight, though the faint murmurs of Day Class girls gossiping about the Night Class could still be heard through the thin walls.

The door to her room clicked open. Yuki Cross trudged in, looking completely exhausted. She leaned her Artemis Rod against the wall and flopped face-first onto her bed with a heavy groan.

Yori closed her book and offered her best friend a sympathetic smile. “Rough patrol?”

“You have no idea,” Yuki mumbled into her pillow. “The crowds were awful. And we had to escort the new transfer student.”

“Oh, right. The international scholarship student,” Yori said, turning her chair around. The Day Class girls had been gossiping about him all week, hoping he would be some tragically beautiful, brooding heir to rival the Night Class. “What’s he like? Half the girls in our hall are hoping he’s a secret prince.”

Yuki rolled over, staring at the ceiling. “They’re going to be so disappointed. He looks… completely normal.”

“Normal?”

“Yeah. He’s not super tall, his hair is just kind of standard black, and he doesn’t have that glowing ‘bishounen’ aura. He just looks like a guy you’d see at a convenience store,” Yuki explained. “But Yori… he’s weird.”

Yori raised an eyebrow. “Weird how?”

“He told Zero to fix his posture,” Yuki said, a bewildered laugh escaping her. “Zero gave him the absolute worst, most terrifying glare he has, and Fajar just smiled and told him he wasn’t breathing from his diaphragm. Zero almost blew a gasket. And then, when Kaname-sama walked past the gates… Fajar just closed his eyes and leaned against a pillar. He wasn’t scared, he wasn’t awestruck… he just didn’t care.”

Yori processed this information quietly. A normal-looking boy who wasn’t intimidated by Zero Kiryu’s violent temper or Kaname Kuran’s overwhelming presence. In an academy where everyone was either a predator or a swooning victim, “normal” was actually the most unnatural thing you could be.

“I see,” Yori murmured, looking out the dark window toward the distant academy walls. “I guess I’ll get to see him in class tomorrow.”

[Day 2 - 10:15 AM: Day Class Homeroom]

Yori sat at her desk, her chin resting in her hand, quietly observing the classroom dynamic.

At the front of the room, Nadeshiko Shindo and a group of Day Class girls were huddled together, sighing over a blurry photograph of Hanabusa Aido they had managed to snap the night before. They paid absolutely zero attention to the new boy sitting near the window.
Google Dokumen

• 1

Yuki was right. Fajar Purnama was painfully average in the looks department. He didn’t have the flawless, porcelain skin of the vampires, nor the tragic, brooding beauty of Zero. He was dressed in a standard Day Class uniform, his hair wasn’t perfectly styled, and he didn’t possess an ounce of aristocratic grace. To the vampire-obsessed girls of Cross Academy, Fajar was practically invisible.
Google Dokumen

But Yori wasn’t like the other girls. She was highly observant, immune to the hypnotic charms that blinded her classmates. And because she was actually looking, she saw what everyone else missed.

Fajar wasn’t just sitting; he was anchored.
Google Dokumen

While the other Day Class boys slumped in their chairs or fidgeted nervously, Fajar sat with a perfectly straight spine. His breathing was so deep and metronomic it looked like a meditation technique. When the teacher dropped a textbook on a desk across the room, the entire class jumped. Fajar didn’t even blink. His eyes simply tracked the source of the noise with terrifying, quiet precision before returning to his notebook.

He moves like a machine, Yori thought, her eyes narrowing slightly. No, not a machine. A predator. But… a quiet one.

“Hey, Yori,” Nadeshiko whispered, leaning over her desk. “Did you hear? Kaname-sama smiled at the crowd last night. Do you think we could sneak out tonight to get a closer look?”

“I think you’ll get caught by Zero and get detention, Nadeshiko,” Yori replied deadpan, returning her attention to her notebook. But from the corner of her eye, she noticed Fajar’s pen stop moving for a fraction of a second. He had heard their whispered conversation from across the noisy room.

He didn’t say anything. He just went back to writing, a faint, carefree smile playing on his lips.

[Day 2 - 8:00 PM: The Sun Dormitory, Girls’ Wing]

The door to the dorm room opened. Yori looked up from her desk, expecting Yuki to come bursting in to complain about another chaotic evening shift.

Instead, Yuki walked in slowly, her face pale and drawn. She was clutching her left arm, holding it tightly against her chest. Peeking out from beneath her unbuttoned uniform sleeve was a stark white bandage.
Google Dokumen

Yori was out of her chair in a heartbeat.

“Yuki, what happened?” Yori asked, her voice sharp with immediate, grounded concern. She gently took Yuki’s arm, examining the bandage. “Did one of the Day Class girls push you at the gates? Or… was it someone from the Night Class?”

“No, no! It wasn’t the Night Class,” Yuki said quickly, her voice trembling slightly. She looked exhausted, but there was a strange, resolute calm in her eyes that Yori hadn’t seen before. “I just… I had an accident. In the old stables. I scraped it on some rusty nails.”

Yori looked at her best friend. She knew Yuki was lying. The neat, professional wrapping of the bandage and the faint, sweet metallic smell lingering on Yuki’s uniform told a much darker story.

“Zero?” Yori asked quietly, her intuition hitting the mark flawlessly.

Yuki flinched, looking away. “Yori… please don’t ask. Headmaster Cross took care of it. I’m okay. Really. It doesn’t even hurt that much.”

“It doesn’t hurt?” Yori frowned. “If you scraped it that badly, it should be throbbing.”

“Fajar helped,” Yuki blurted out, before she could catch herself.

Yori froze. “The new transfer student?”

Yuki clamped her mouth shut, realizing she had said too much. But Yori’s mind was already racing. She thought back to the perfectly anchored, ordinary-looking boy in the classroom. How did a normal human boy end up in the middle of whatever violent, bloody crisis had just happened between Yuki and Zero? And how did he help?

“He… he knows a lot about first aid,” Yuki stammered, trying to cover her tracks. “He did some weird massage on my arm, and the pain just stopped. He told me it was… Neuro-something.”
Google Dokumen

“Neuro-somatic,” Yori murmured, recalling an obscure medical term she had once read.

She looked out the window again, this time glancing toward the boys’ wing of the Sun Dormitory. The Day Class girls were still whispering about vampires and princes, completely oblivious. But Sayori Wakaba knew better.

Fajar Purnama, Yori thought, a profound sense of curiosity and caution blooming in her chest. You aren’t just an ordinary transfer student at all, are you?

---

[Day 3 - 7:00 AM: The Sun Dormitory, Girls’ Wing]

The morning sun filtered through the curtains. Yuki was standing in front of the mirror, brushing her hair and getting ready for another exhausting day of classes.

Sitting on her bed with a book in her lap, Yori watched her best friend closely. Specifically, she was watching Yuki’s left arm. As Yuki reached up to tie her hair, the sleeve of her uniform pulled back. The bandage was gone. In its place were two faint, healing puncture marks, surrounded by perfectly unbruised, healthy skin.

A wound like that, especially one that looked like an animal bite, should have been inflamed, swollen, and agonizingly painful. It should have required a doctor, stitches, and antibiotics. Instead, it was healing at a miraculous, almost biologically impossible rate.

“Your arm looks a lot better today, Yuki,” Yori noted casually, turning a page of her book.

Yuki glanced at her arm in the mirror and smiled, a genuine look of relief washing over her face. “Yeah, it actually is. I woke up and the ache was completely gone. Fajar really knows what he’s doing. I guess whatever that ‘Neuro’ technique is, it really boosts blood flow and healing.”

Yuki grabbed her Artemis Rod and strapped it to her thigh under her skirt. “I have to go meet Headmaster Cross before homeroom. See you in class, Yori!”

As the door clicked shut, Yori lowered her book.

Boosting blood flow doesn’t stitch torn flesh together overnight, Yori thought, her sharp, pragmatic mind dissecting the evidence. He isn’t just applying first aid. He is manipulating her biology.

Yori closed her book. She had seen enough. It was time to talk to the transfer student.

[Day 3 - 12:15 PM: The Old Campus Greenhouse]

Lunch break was usually the loudest time of the day at Cross Academy. The Day Class girls flocked to the courtyards, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Night Class dorms, while the boys aggressively played sports to burn off their frustration.

Fajar wasn’t doing either of those things.

Yori found him sitting alone in the abandoned, overgrown greenhouse behind the main building. He was sitting cross-legged on a concrete bench, eating a simple bento box. He wasn’t doing anything overtly magical or terrifying. He was just eating. But to Yori’s highly observant eyes, even his eating was bizarre. He chewed his food with a slow, deliberate, metronomic rhythm. He was practicing Functional Dynamics, optimizing his digestion and maximizing caloric intake through sheer focus.

He didn’t have the glowing aura of Kaname, nor the brooding edge of Zero. He was just an ordinary-looking guy in a slightly wrinkled uniform.

Yori stepped through the rusted greenhouse doors. Her footsteps crunched on the broken glass.

Fajar didn’t jump. He didn’t even look surprised. He swallowed his food, closed his bento box, and looked up at her with a polite, completely unbothered smile.

“Wakaba-san, right?” Fajar asked, his voice calm and friendly. “Yuki’s roommate.”

Yori didn’t smile back. She walked over and stood a few feet away from the bench, crossing her arms. She looked him dead in the eye, entirely immune to the casual, disarming aura he was projecting.

“I don’t know what you are, Fajar,” Yori started, her voice steady, low, and incredibly pragmatic. “But I know you aren’t just an international scholarship student.”

Fajar tilted his head slightly, resting his hands on his knees. He didn’t interrupt her. He just listened.

“I watch people,” Yori continued, stepping closer. “The rest of the girls in our class are completely blinded by the Moon Dormitory, but I’m not. I saw how you handled Zero on your first day. I saw how you ignored Kaname-sama. In class, your breathing never changes, and you can hear a whispered conversation from forty feet away over the sound of a dropping textbook.”

She pointed a finger at him, her eyes hardening with protective resolve.

“And last night, Yuki came home with a bite mark on her arm that smelled like fresh blood,” Yori stated, refusing to sugarcoat it. “She tried to lie and say she scraped it on a nail, but she told me you ‘fixed’ it. This morning, a wound that should have needed stitches is completely closed. Normal people don’t heal like that, and normal people don’t know how to make it happen.”

Yori took a deep breath, planting her feet firmly on the ground. She was a human standing alone in an isolated greenhouse with a boy who might be more dangerous than the vampires, but she didn’t flinch.

“I don’t care about the school’s secrets. I don’t care about whatever political game the Headmaster is playing,” Yori said, her voice fiercely loyal. “Yuki is my best friend. She is carrying a massive burden, and she is constantly putting herself in danger for this school. I just want to know one thing: Are you going to be a threat to her, or are you going to use whatever weird powers you have to help her?”

The greenhouse was completely silent, save for the faint rustling of the overgrown vines in the wind.

Fajar looked at the brave, completely un-hypnotized human girl standing before him.

The floor is yours, Creator. How does Fajar respond to Sayori Wakaba’s confrontation?

A) The Honest Recruitment: Fajar drops the “ordinary student” act entirely. He admits he knows about the vampires and praises Yori’s absolute lack of fear and high perception. He recruits her on the spot to be his “eyes and ears” in the Day Class for his Coexistence Project, promising to protect Yuki if Yori helps him monitor the human students. B) The Carefree Deflection (The Shonen Protagonist Route): Fajar laughs it off. He claims he’s just a massive martial arts nerd who studies ancient Eastern medicine and human biology (Phase I: Reality). He promises he’s a good guy and swears he will always protect Yuki, keeping his cosmic origins and the full extent of his plans a secret. C) The Cold Warning: Fajar respects her bravery but warns her that her high perception will get her killed if she digs too deep. He assures her Yuki is safe with him, but tells Yori to step back and play the role of the ignorant human for her own survival. D) [Custom Action] Tell me exactly what Fajar says and does!

---

[Day 3 - 12:20 PM: The Old Campus Greenhouse]

Fajar looked at the brave, completely un-hypnotized human girl standing before him. For a long moment, the greenhouse was utterly silent.

Then, Fajar smiled. It wasn’t the polite, distant smile of a transfer student, nor was it the arrogant smirk of the Night Class. It was a genuine, deeply appreciative grin.

“You are absolutely spot on, Wakaba-san,” Fajar said, his voice dropping its casual tone, replacing it with the grounded cadence of a martial arts master addressing a promising talent. “You’re right. I’m not a normal student, the injury wasn’t a scrape, and Cross Academy is absolutely not what it pretends to be.”

Yori didn’t relax her posture, but her eyes widened slightly at his blunt honesty. “So you admit it.”

“I have no reason to lie to someone who has the eyes to see the truth,” Fajar replied, standing up from the concrete bench. He stretched his arms, his joints popping with a crisp, fluid sound. “I am here to protect the human students, and by extension, Yuki. But before we cooperate, I need to test exactly how sharp those eyes of yours really are.”

Yori narrowed her eyes. “A test?”

“An assignment,” Fajar corrected. “You’ve noticed the symptoms, but you don’t know the disease. Over the next few days, I want you to investigate the academy yourself. Look at the logistics. Look at the Night Class’s habits, the medical supply shipments to the Headmaster’s office, the way the Disciplinary Committee is structured. Take as much time as you like. Come back to me tomorrow, or the day after, or a week from now. When you have a working theory about what the Night Class actually is, find me.”

Fajar picked up his empty bento box and walked past her toward the exit. He paused at the door, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Stay in the shadows, Yori. Don’t let them catch you looking.”

[Days 4 to 6 - Fajar’s Internal Progression]

While Yori spent the next few days quietly turning the Day Class upside down with her observations, Fajar focused entirely on his vessel’s internal architecture.

During the boring daytime lectures, Fajar wasn’t just sitting still; he was aggressively cycling his internal energy. He had already mastered Phase I: Bio-Maintenance, aligning his bones and muscles perfectly. Now, he was pushing deeper into the esoteric foundation of his cultivation.

By the evening of the fourth day, Fajar achieved a critical breakthrough. Sitting cross-legged on his dormitory bed, he forcefully guided his intent through the 12 Great Meridians (Step 1.5). The latent, stagnant energy blockages within the human teenager’s body shattered. His neuro-somatic network completely smoothed out. His nervous system and blood vessels synchronized perfectly, allowing his brain to send electrical signals to his muscles at near-instantaneous speeds without tearing the fibers.

By the sixth day, Fajar didn’t stop. He pushed the newly purified energy deeper, breaking into the 8 Extraordinary Meridians (Step 2).

A wave of profound, boiling heat washed over his internal organs, followed immediately by an absolute, terrifying lightness. The Extraordinary Meridians acted as massive reservoirs for his Qi. He no longer just had perfect posture; he had a bottomless well of stamina. He could now run for days without sleeping, process complex information instantly, and hit with the kinetic force of a speeding truck without using a single drop of magic.

The human baseline was established. He was ready for a fight.

[Day 6 - 5:00 PM: The School Library Archives]

The library was mostly empty as the afternoon sun cast long, orange rays through the stained-glass windows. Fajar was sitting at a corner table, casually flipping through an advanced anatomy textbook.

Footsteps approached. Fajar didn’t need to look up. His Radar Intent easily recognized the steady, grounded heartbeat and practical stride of Sayori Wakaba.

Yori sat down across from him and placed a small, leather-bound notebook on the table. She looked exhausted, but her eyes were burning with intellectual triumph.

“Three days,” Fajar noted, closing his textbook. “I’m impressed. What did you find?”

“A logistical nightmare,” Yori said, keeping her voice to a low whisper. She opened the notebook, revealing pages of meticulously organized data. “I checked the cafeteria manifests. The Night Class orders massive amounts of luxury food, but based on the waste disposal weights, they barely eat a fraction of it. They’re faking their caloric intake.”

Fajar nodded approvingly. “Good. What else?”

“Their physical traits,” Yori continued, pointing to her notes. “Zero Kiryu’s hostility isn’t just emotional prejudice. I watched his hands when Hanabusa Aido walked past the other night. Zero’s pulse skyrocketed, and his pupils dilated—it was a biological fight-or-flight response. The Night Class themselves are unnaturally fast, they avoid direct sunlight like it’s a physical irritant, and their skin temperature is demonstrably lower than human average based on the condensation of their breath in the cold evening air.”

She flipped to the final page, a list of shipments delivered to Headmaster Cross.

“And then there’s this,” Yori said, her voice grim. “The Headmaster receives a massive shipment of ‘effervescent iron supplements’ every month. But they don’t go to the student infirmary. They go directly to the Moon Dormitory. Iron supplements. Pale skin. Fake eating. Fast healing.”

Yori closed the notebook and looked Fajar in the eye.

“They aren’t a normal aristocratic elite,” Yori concluded. “They’re a biological anomaly. Some kind of apex predator species that mimics humans but sustains itself on something else entirely. And the school is a massive containment facility designed to keep us from realizing we are locked in a cage with them.”

Fajar stared at her for a moment. Then, slowly, he raised his hands and began to clap. The soft, deliberate applause echoed in the quiet corner of the library.

“Brilliant,” Fajar praised, a massive smile breaking across his face. “You didn’t jump to fantasy conclusions. You followed the biology, the logistics, and the supply lines. You have the mind of a true tactician, Wakaba-san.”

Yori let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “So… I’m right? What exactly are they?”

“We will discuss the exact terminology tomorrow,” Fajar said, standing up and sliding his hands into his pockets. “You’ve passed the test, Yori. You’ve proven you have the mental fortitude to handle the truth without panicking. Meet me behind the old stables tomorrow evening. It’s time to officially begin our work.”

---

[Day 7 - 12:05 AM: The Sun Dormitory, Girls’ Wing]

The clock on Yori’s nightstand quietly clicked past midnight. The room was pitch black, filled only with the soft, exhausted breathing of Yuki Cross in the adjacent bed.

Outside the window, a shadow detached itself from the side of the building.

With his 12 Great Meridians fully cleared and his 8 Extraordinary Meridians acting as massive reservoirs of pure, silent energy, Fajar possessed absolute control over his physical vessel. He didn’t need magic to bypass the Sun Dormitory’s security. Using Primal Movement, he scaled the sheer brick wall using only the microscopic grooves in the mortar. He popped the latch on the girls’ window with a sliver of compressed Qi and slipped inside.

He made absolutely zero sound. He displaced no air.

Fajar stood perfectly still between the two beds. He looked at Yuki, confirming she was in a deep REM cycle. Then, he turned his gaze to Sayori Wakaba.

Fajar didn’t touch her. Instead, he drew upon Phase VI: Reality Domination (Will / Intent). He focused a microscopic fraction of his absolute presence, forming it into a sharp, invisible needle of intent, and projected it directly into Yori’s subconscious. He commanded her mind to wake up, explicitly isolating the pressure so Yuki wouldn’t feel a thing.

Yori’s eyes snapped open in the darkness.

Her biological fight-or-flight response triggered instantly. A towering silhouette was standing right beside her bed. The natural instinct of any human girl waking up to a male intruder in the dead of night was to scream at the top of her lungs. Her lungs expanded to do exactly that.

But as her eyes adjusted to the moonlight, she saw the calm, completely unthreatening posture of the figure.

Fajar leaned down. “It is officially tomorrow,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath. “Will you come?”

Yori’s heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird, but her pragmatic mind seized control of her vocal cords. She swallowed the scream. She didn’t scramble backward. She simply looked at Fajar, then glanced at the peacefully sleeping Yuki.

Yori gave a single, stiff nod.

Fajar stepped back toward the window, offering a silent gesture to follow. Yori quietly slipped out from under her covers, pulled a thick sweater over her pajamas, put on her shoes, and followed the anomaly out the window and up the fire escape.

[Day 7 - 12:15 AM: The Sun Dormitory Rooftop]

The night air was freezing. Yori hugged her sweater tightly around herself as she stepped onto the flat, gravel-covered roof.

Fajar was standing near the edge, his hands in his pockets, looking out over the sprawling campus of Cross Academy. The sheer volume of energy coursing through his Extraordinary Meridians kept him perfectly warm despite his thin uniform.

“You pass the first test,” Fajar said casually, turning to face her.

Yori frowned, her breath pluming in the cold air. “Sneaking into a girls’ dorm room is a test?”

“For you? Yes,” Fajar replied, his tone shifting into the strict cadence of an instructor. “I told you to meet me tomorrow. I didn’t specify a time or a place, because I needed to see how you handle sudden, terrifying variables. Any normal student would have screamed the moment they saw a shadow standing over their bed. If you had screamed, I would have wiped your memory of our conversation and left you to live in blissful ignorance. But you didn’t. You controlled your fear, assessed the threat, and adapted. That is the baseline emotional control required for what comes next.”

Yori crossed her arms. “I’m starting to think you’re more dangerous than whatever is hiding in the Moon Dormitory.”

“I am,” Fajar said simply. It wasn’t a boast; it was a pure, undeniable fact. “Which brings us to the second test.”

Fajar stepped away from the roof’s edge and walked toward the center of the gravel surface. He raised his right hand.

He didn’t chant an incantation. He didn’t draw a magic circle. He simply hooked his fingers into the empty air, as if grabbing a physical curtain, and pulled.

The fabric of reality tore open with a sound like ripping silk.

Yori stumbled back, her eyes wide with absolute disbelief. Hovering in the middle of the rooftop was a jagged, vertical fissure in space.

It was the Harrowing Interstice—or at least, the outermost, mild layer of it. Swirling inside the tear was an oppressive, heavy darkness that seemed to devour the moonlight. It wasn’t just empty space; it felt like looking down a cosmic corridor made of liquid shadow. The pressure radiating from the portal was suffocating, whispering of dimensions far beyond human comprehension.

“What… what did you just do?” Yori whispered, her pragmatic worldview completely shattering. “That defies physics. That defies everything.”

“It defies your physics,” Fajar corrected, stepping right up to the edge of the abyssal tear. He looked back at her, his expression entirely serious. “If you want to understand the truth about this academy, and if you want to possess the power to stand beside Yuki instead of hiding behind her, you have to throw away your common sense.”

Fajar gestured toward the swirling vortex of the Harrowing Interstice.

“This is the second test, Sayori Wakaba,” Fajar stated, his voice echoing with an unnatural, heavy resonance. “A predator is defined by its willingness to step into the unknown. Prey runs from the dark. If you are afraid, turn around, go back to bed, and forget this ever happened. If you want the truth… step inside with me.”

Yori stood frozen on the gravel. Every biological survival instinct in her brain was screaming at her to run away from the tear in reality. The darkness inside looked like it could crush her soul into dust.

She looked at Fajar, who stood completely unbothered next to the cosmic anomaly. Then, she thought of Yuki. She thought of the fresh, impossibly healed bite mark on her best friend’s arm, and the tragic, exhausted look in Yuki’s eyes when she thought Yori wasn’t looking.

Yori clenched her fists. She took a deep, shuddering breath.

She walked forward, stopping right beside Fajar. She didn’t look at him. She kept her eyes locked on the swirling, terrifying darkness of the Interstice.

“Lead the way,” Yori said, her voice shaking, but her resolve absolute.

Fajar smiled. “Pass.”

---

[Day 7 - 12:17 AM: The Harrowing Interstice (Outer Layer)]

Stepping into the Harrowing Interstice felt like walking to the bottom of the ocean.

The moment Yori crossed the threshold, gravity shifted. There was no ground, only a sprawling, infinite corridor of swirling, liquid shadow. The air was freezing, but it wasn’t a physical cold; it was a deep, spiritual chill that immediately began to gnaw at her sanity. Faint, overlapping whispers echoed in the dark—the collective negativity, grief, and malice bleeding in from countless realities.

Yori staggered, her knees buckling under the sheer, oppressive weight of the dimension.

Before she could fall, a heavy, dark coat was draped over her shoulders.

Instantly, the suffocating pressure vanished. The whispers became muffled background noise, and warmth flooded back into her limbs. Yori gasped for air, looking up to see Fajar standing beside her, completely unaffected. He wasn’t wearing a coat. He simply existed within the crushing void, his own internal energy acting as an absolute fortress.

“Your will is incredibly strong compared to an average human, Yori,” Fajar said, adjusting the collar of the coat around her. “But it’s still not strong enough to travel this dimension unprotected. This is the Harrowing Interstice. It’s one of the fastest corridors in existence to travel anywhere, but it acts as a sinkhole for universal negativity. Everything dark and heavy pools here.”

Yori clutched the lapels of the coat. “How do you survive this?”

“By not fighting it,” Fajar instructed smoothly. “You don’t need to be strong enough to reject the darkness, Yori. You just need to feel the place and accept it the way it is. Let the currents flow around you. By wearing this coat and feeling the pressure, your soul will adapt. One day, you’ll be able to open this corridor yourself. But for now, the coat is only temporary protection. If we stay too long, it will eat through the fabric, so we’ll have to step out and rest occasionally.”

Yori nodded slowly, her pragmatic mind forcefully adapting to the impossible physics around her.

“Good,” Fajar smiled. “Now that you’ve officially thrown away your common sense… I want you to look back at the investigation you just presented to me. Look at the logistics. They fake their meals. They avoid the sun. They have pale skin, low body temperatures, unnatural speed, and the Headmaster secretly feeds them blood-like supplements.”

Yori’s breath hitched. In the mundane world, the word felt like a fairy tale. But standing inside a cosmic tear in reality, the conclusion was undeniably, terrifyingly logical.

“Vampires,” Yori whispered.

“Exactly,” Fajar confirmed. He gestured to the swirling walls of the Interstice. “I could sit in a library and explain all of this to you, but the Interstice responds to intent. Since we’re in here, it’s much easier for me to just show you.”

Fajar waved his hand. The liquid shadows on the wall of the corridor rippled like the surface of a lake, forming a massive, crystal-clear window into the past.

“I never actually intended to uncover the Night Class’s secret on my first week,” Fajar’s voice echoed as the visual shifted. “But a few nights ago, I noticed Zero Kiryu acting erratically. His breathing was ragged, his pulse was chaotic. Yuki chased after him into the old stables, and naturally, I followed.”

The shadowy window displayed the scene perfectly. Yori watched as a memory played out before her: Zero, cornered in the dark stables, completely losing control. His eyes were glowing a feral red, and his fangs were fully extended. He lunged at Yuki with murderous, starving intent.

Yori gasped, stepping forward, but before the memory-Zero could strike, the memory-Fajar intervened. With terrifying, casual precision, Fajar effortlessly deflected Zero’s chaotic strike, swept his legs, and pinned the frenzied vampire to the dirt without breaking a sweat.

“I subdued him and dragged him straight to the Headmaster’s office,” Fajar narrated as the visual shifted to Kaien Cross’s study. “That’s when the principal confessed the truth. Zero’s family was slaughtered by a Pureblood vampire, and he was bitten. He’s been slowly turning into the monster he loathes. He refused to take the artificial blood tablets out of sheer stubbornness and self-hatred.”

In the vision, Yori watched her best friend, Yuki, look at the agonizing, starving Zero with tears in her eyes. Yuki tilted her head, offering her bare neck to the boy.

“No,” Yori whispered instinctively.

“My thoughts exactly,” Fajar agreed. In the vision, Fajar stepped between them, forcefully stopping Yuki. ‘The neck is a vital artery and an emotional surrender,’ the memory-Fajar lectured sternly. ‘If you want to medicate him, give him the arm. Keep a tourniquet ready, and establish a physical boundary.’

Yori looked at the real Fajar with immense gratitude. He hadn’t just healed Yuki’s arm; he had prevented Zero from crossing a psychological point of no return.

The vision fast-forwarded to the next morning. Fajar was standing in front of Kaien Cross’s desk, with Yuki and a heavily subdued Zero sitting on the couches.

‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ the memory-Fajar said, his voice ringing with absolute authority. ‘The perspective of humans existing merely as livestock is a disgusting, arrogant worldview. But a species itself is just biology. It isn’t inherently evil. A vampire who is kind, controls his instincts, and respects life is a hundred times better than a fellow human who treats other humans like trash.’

Standing in the Interstice, Yori nodded in absolute, firm agreement. “He’s right,” she murmured. “Cruelty is a choice, not a species.”

Fajar smiled, pleased with her unshakeable moral compass. He waved his hand again, and the vision shifted to the front gates of Cross Academy during the evening transition.

“Now, look at their duty,” Fajar instructed.

Yori watched Yuki and Zero pushing back the screaming, chaotic mob of Day Class girls. For years, Yori had thought her best friend was just doing crowd control to keep the girls from annoying the elite students. But watching it now, with her new perspective, the truth was horrifyingly obvious.

“They aren’t securing the Night Class students,” Yori realized, a cold dread washing over her. “They’re acting as a physical barricade. They’re protecting the Day Class from them.”

“Correct,” Fajar said. “Yuki and Zero are the sheepdogs keeping the flock away from a pack of wolves who are barely tolerating a vegetarian diet.”

Fajar raised his hand one last time. “The past is prologue, Yori. Now, let’s look at the present. It’s past midnight. The curfew is in effect, and the Night Class is wide awake.”

The shadowy window shifted away from the past and dialed into a live feed, peering directly through the walls of the Moon Dormitory.

Inside the opulent, dimly lit lounge of the vampire dorms, the aristocratic facade was completely dropped. Hanabusa Aido was casually lounging on a velvet sofa, tossing a crystal glass into the air with a literal flick of telekinetic ice. Across the room, Akatsuki Kain sat with his eyes closed, the ambient temperature of the air around him visibly distorting from the sheer, latent heat of his fire magic.

And standing by the window, looking out into the night, was Kaname Kuran.

Even through a dimensional viewing window, the sheer, oppressive gravity of Kaname’s presence made Yori’s breath hitch. His eyes weren’t the warm, polite burgundy he showed the Day Class. They were a glowing, terrifying crimson—the eyes of an ancient, apex predator presiding over his court.

“They are beautiful, they are powerful, and they are incredibly dangerous,” Fajar stated calmly, letting the window fade back into the swirling shadows of the Interstice. He looked down at Yori. “This is the reality of Cross Academy, Sayori. Now that you’ve seen it all… what do you want to do about it?”

---

[Day 7 - 1:00 AM: Headmaster Cross’s Office]

The atmosphere in the Headmaster’s office was tense. The fireplace crackled quietly in the corner. Kaien Cross sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his usual goofy demeanor replaced by the sharp, analytical gaze of the legendary Fangless Hunter. Yuki and Zero stood on either side of the room, looking exhausted from their evening patrol.

Fajar stood in the center of the office, his posture perfectly relaxed.

“My integration into the Day Class is proceeding flawlessly,” Fajar reported, his tone strictly professional. “And as requested, I have begun laying the groundwork for the Coexistence Project. I’ve secured my first baseline human recruit.”

Zero scowled, crossing his arms. “You dragged a normal student into this? That violates every protocol we have. They’re supposed to be kept in the dark for their own safety.”

“Ignorance is not safety, Kiryu. It’s just a blindfold,” Fajar corrected smoothly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, standard digital sound recorder. “Besides, I didn’t drag her into anything. She cornered me.”

Fajar hit the play button and set the device on the Headmaster’s desk.

The audio clicked, and a familiar, steady voice filled the room.

‘I watch people. The rest of the girls in our class are completely blinded by the Moon Dormitory, but I’m not… Normal people don’t heal like that, and normal people don’t know how to make it happen.’

Yuki gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Yori…?”

The recording skipped forward, playing Yori’s tactical breakdown of the cafeteria manifests, the blood-supplement shipments, and her undeniable conclusion that the Night Class were vampires. Kaien Cross leaned forward, his fingers steepled, genuinely impressed by the sheer deductive reasoning of a fifteen-year-old girl.

Then, the recording skipped to the midnight test.

‘It is officially tomorrow. Will you come?’ Fajar’s recorded voice whispered.

Yuki’s eyes widened in absolute horror. She looked from the recorder to Fajar. “Wait… that was tonight. That was ten minutes ago! You were standing right next to my bed?! How did I not wake up? I’m a trained Hunter!”

“I isolated the bio-rhythmic pressure,” Fajar explained simply, as if discussing the weather. “If I didn’t want you to wake up, Yuki, a bomb could have gone off in the hallway and you would have kept dreaming.”

Zero’s hand drifted dangerously close to the holster of the Bloody Rose. “You broke into the girls’ dorm and terrorized a civilian.”

“I tested her emotional control,” Fajar corrected, unfazed by Zero’s killing intent. “And she passed. Which brings us to her final test. I asked her what she wanted to do about the reality of this school.”

Fajar turned toward the empty space in the center of the office.

“You can come in now, Wakaba-san.”

Fajar raised his right hand and hooked his fingers into the empty air. With a sickening sound like tearing silk, the fabric of reality ripped open right in the middle of the Headmaster’s office.

The temperature in the room plummeted instantly. A jagged, vertical fissure of swirling liquid shadow hovered over the carpet. The suffocating, oppressive aura of the Harrowing Interstice flooded the room—a cosmic pressure that felt infinitely heavier and older than any Pureblood magic.

Zero drew the Bloody Rose in a fraction of a second, aiming it directly at the anomaly. Yuki instinctively reached for the Artemis Rod, stumbling backward. Even Kaien Cross stood up, his hand resting on the hidden sword inside his cane, his eyes wide with genuine shock. This wasn’t vampire magic. This was a complete violation of dimensional physics.

A figure stepped out of the swirling darkness.

Sayori Wakaba stumbled slightly onto the carpet, shivering as the heavy, dark coat Fajar had given her dissolved back into ambient energy. Behind her, Fajar casually waved his hand, and the cosmic tear zipped itself shut, erasing the suffocating pressure from the room.

Yori looked up, her pragmatic eyes sweeping over the drawn weapons, the stunned Headmaster, and finally landing on her terrified best friend.

“Yori!” Yuki cried out. She dropped her stance and rushed forward, grabbing Yori by the shoulders. Tears immediately pricked the corners of Yuki’s eyes. In the canon of Yuki’s heart, her biggest fear had always been Yori finding out the truth and looking at her with fear or disgust. “Yori, I’m so sorry! I wanted to tell you, but it’s so dangerous, and I didn’t want you to get hurt—”

“Yuki, breathe,” Yori said softly. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she reached out and hugged Yuki tightly, anchoring the panicking Prefect. “It’s okay. I know.”

Zero slowly lowered his gun, his lilac eyes locked on the thoroughly ordinary Day Class girl who had just walked out of a spatial nightmare. “You’re out of your mind, Wakaba. You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

“I know exactly what I’m dealing with, Kiryu-kun,” Yori replied, her voice steadying as the warmth of the office chased away the chill of the Interstice. She pulled back from Yuki and looked directly at the Headmaster.

“Fajar asked me what I wanted to do about this,” Yori stated, her voice ringing with absolute, unshakeable loyalty. “My answer is that I don’t care about species. I don’t care if the people in the Moon Dormitory are vampires, and I don’t care about the politics of the Hunter Association. What I care about is my best friend.”

Yori looked at Yuki, offering a gentle, grounded smile. “You’ve been carrying this massive burden completely alone, pretending everything is fine while you get hurt. I won’t let you do it alone anymore. I am loyal to my friends, and to the people who are kind. If Fajar has a plan to fix this broken system and protect you, then I’m helping him.”

Yuki let out a choked sob, burying her face in Yori’s shoulder, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer relief of absolute acceptance.

Kaien Cross slowly sat back down in his chair. The tension in his shoulders completely vanished, replaced by a profound, gentle smile. He looked at Fajar.

“You didn’t just recruit an informant, Fajar-kun,” Kaien murmured, adjusting his glasses. “You recruited an anchor.”

“Every structure needs a solid foundation, Headmaster,” Fajar replied, crossing his arms with a satisfied nod. “The Day Class girls are chaotic and easily hypnotized. Sayori Wakaba is completely immune. She is the baseline. With her observing the human side, and Zero acting as the vanguard…”

Fajar glanced at the silver-haired hunter, a challenging smirk playing on his lips.

“…we can finally start changing the rules of Cross Academy.”

---

[Day 7 - 1:15 AM: Headmaster Cross’s Office]

The initial shock of the dimensional tear had settled, replaced by a strange, newfound solidarity. However, Kaien Cross leaned forward, resting his chin on his folded hands with a sudden look of logistical concern.

“There is one complication, Wakaba-san,” Kaien noted, his tone shifting back to the pragmatic administrator. “I cannot give you an armband. You cannot officially join the Disciplinary Committee.”

“Because of the Day Class girls,” Yori stated flatly, already understanding the politics.

“Exactly,” Fajar agreed. “It’s the same reason I can’t wear the armband right now. Yuki and Zero are already established anomalies. But if you—the most grounded, normal girl in the Day Class—suddenly get official clearance to break curfew and interact with the Moon Dormitory, the mob of fangirls will riot. They’ll think the rules are bending, and they’ll storm the gates.”

“I don’t need an armband,” Yori said, adjusting her glasses. “In fact, it’s better if I don’t have one. Nadeshiko and the others stop talking when Yuki is around because she’s a Prefect. They talk freely in front of me because they think I don’t care. I can monitor the Day Class’s movements, intercept their plans to break curfew, and feed the information directly to Fajar.”

Zero let out a quiet huff, holstering the Bloody Rose. “A spy in the Day Class. Fine. But if you get caught in the crossfire between a hungry Level E and the Aristocrats, we won’t be able to reach you in time.”

“She won’t be in the crossfire,” Fajar promised, his eyes flashing with a quiet, absolute certainty. “She’s under my jurisdiction now.”

[Day 7 - 2:00 AM: The Sun Dormitory, Girls’ Wing]

The walk back to the dormitory was done entirely in the shadows. When the heavy wooden door of their room finally clicked shut behind them, the absolute exhaustion of the night hit Yuki like a physical weight.

She leaned her Artemis Rod against the wall and slid down onto the floor, pulling her knees to her chest.

Yori didn’t say a word. She quietly walked over, sat on the floor right beside her best friend, and bumped her shoulder gently against Yuki’s.

“I thought you would look at me differently,” Yuki whispered, staring at the floorboards. “When I found out Zero was… changing. Even though I wanted to help him, there was a moment where I was just so terrified. I thought if you ever found out about the vampires, you’d look at me with that same fear. Because I lied to you for so long.”

“Yuki,” Yori said softly, turning her head. “You stood between a starving vampire and the rest of the school, and you offered him your own arm to keep us safe. You’re the bravest person I know. Why would I be afraid of you?”

Yuki’s breath hitched. She leaned her head onto Yori’s shoulder, a few stray tears finally escaping down her cheeks. The crushing isolation of the Prefect duty—a secret she had carried alone for years—finally shattered.

“Fajar is weird,” Yuki murmured after a long, comfortable silence.

“Incredibly,” Yori agreed, a small smile touching her lips as she thought of the terrifying, infinite darkness of the Interstice and the boy who walked through it like a stroll in the park. “But I think… I think he’s exactly what this school needs.”

[Day 10 - Fajar’s Internal Progression: Step 2.5]

A few days passed without major incident. While Yori integrated herself as the quiet, watchful guardian of the human classroom, Fajar spent his evenings rapidly accelerating his biological fortification.

Sitting in a lotus position on the floor of his private dorm room, Fajar breathed in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. He had already cleared the 12 Great Meridians and the 8 Extraordinary Meridians. Now, he was pushing his intent into the microscopic network of his vessel: Step 2.5: All Minor Chakras.

He visualized the stagnant energy nodes in his joints, his fingertips, the soles of his feet, and his sensory organs. With precise, forceful surges of Qi, he shattered the blockages one by one.

His eyes snapped open. The room seemed infinitely brighter, the ambient sounds of the night crystal clear. By unlocking the minor chakras, his internal energy no longer just flowed like a river; it saturated his entire body like a fine mist. His reflexes were no longer bound by human neural pathways—his very skin could react to changes in air pressure. The vessel was nearing Phase I completion.

[Day 10 - 11:45 PM: Fajar’s Dorm Room]

Just as Fajar stood up to stretch, the ambient air pressure in the center of his room violently plummeted.

A familiar sound—like the tearing of heavy silk—echoed in the quiet room. A jagged, vertical fissure of liquid shadow ripped open above Fajar’s rug. The freezing, oppressive aura of the Harrowing Interstice spilled out into the bedroom.

Fajar didn’t flinch. He simply crossed his arms and watched with an amused smile.

A heavy black boot stepped out of the cosmic tear. Sayori Wakaba emerged from the dimension, tightly wrapped in the heavy, dark coat Fajar had given her. She stumbled slightly onto the floorboards, taking a deep, shuddering breath as the portal instantly zipped shut behind her.

“Well,” Fajar chuckled, leaning against his desk. “I suppose I deserve this. Is this your idea of payback for me sneaking into your room the other night?”

Yori pulled the heavy collar of the coat down, a faint, proud smirk on her usually stoic face. “Absolutely. Consider us even.”

“I’m impressed you opened the outermost layer by yourself so quickly,” Fajar praised, genuinely approving of her willpower. “But considering the Headmaster explicitly forbade you from wandering the halls at night, isn’t this a bit reckless?”

“If I walk through the halls, Nadeshiko or the other girls might see me,” Yori explained pragmatically, brushing off the sleeves of the coat. “If I get caught breaking curfew, it compromises my cover as the ‘normal’ student, and it jeopardizes your pacifist project. The portal bypasses the campus entirely. It’s the only logical way to travel.”

“Logic applied to dimensional horrors. You really are one of a kind, Wakaba-san,” Fajar said, shaking his head with a grin. He gestured to the small tea set resting on his table. “Since you went through the trouble of tearing a hole in reality to visit, you might as well sit down.”

Yori took off the heavy coat, letting it dissolve into ambient shadow, and sat at the small table.

“You don’t need to be a frontline fighter, Yori,” Fajar said, pouring a cup of hot tea and sliding it toward her. “But navigating the Interstice takes a massive toll on the human nervous system. If you’re going to keep visiting me via the cosmic void, I should teach you the absolute basics of internal energy cycling.”

Yori took the warm cup, her pragmatic eyes locking onto his. “Will it stop the dimension from making my bones feel like ice?”

“It will,” Fajar nodded. “Even if you have zero interest in fighting vampires, learning Phase I: Bio-Maintenance will grant you perfect health, cellular rejuvenation, and the stamina to endure the Interstice without the coat. It will make you an unshakeable anchor for Yuki.”

Yori took a slow sip of the tea, the warmth chasing away the lingering chill of the darkness. She looked around Fajar’s perfectly neat, spartan room, and then back to the boy who was quietly rewriting the laws of her universe.

“Alright, Fajar,” Yori said, her voice steady and resolute. “Teach me.”

---

Chapter 1.4 Cosmic Revelation and Intervention Plan

[Day 7 - 1:25 AM: Headmaster Cross’s Office]

With Yori’s recruitment solidified, the atmosphere in the Headmaster’s office shifted from a tense standoff to a genuine tactical briefing. Yori stood beside Fajar, her pragmatic mind already cataloging the school’s social hierarchy under a completely new, terrifying lens.

“If we are going to build a Coexistence Project that doesn’t rely on magic or memory-wiping, we need a human vanguard,” Fajar stated, leaning against the back of one of the leather guest chairs. “Wakaba-san is our intelligence anchor. But we need physical anchors. Yori, what is the status of the rest of the Day Class?”

Yori adjusted her glasses, seamlessly stepping into her new role.

“Currently unviable,” Yori reported flatly. “I reviewed the profiles of the most prominent students. Kasumi Kageyama is the Day Class President. Logically, he should be our first male recruit to establish order. However, his psychological state is completely compromised. He is hopelessly infatuated with Ruka Souen of the Night Class.”

Zero scoffed quietly from the corner. “He’s an idiot. She doesn’t even know he exists.”

“Exactly,” Yori agreed. “If Fajar tells Kageyama the truth about the vampires, Kageyama won’t rebel. He’ll likely offer himself as a blood source just to get Ruka to look at him. He lacks the self-respect required for martial arts.”

“And the girls?” Headmaster Cross asked, resting his chin on his hands.

“Nadeshiko Shindo leads the main mob,” Yori continued. “But she is entirely hypnotized by the ‘Idol’ persona of Hanabusa Aido. If we try to break her delusion right now, she will view us as the enemy. She needs to experience a biological wake-up call—a crisis that breaks the illusion—before Fajar can teach her how to survive.”

Fajar nodded, crossing his arms. “They lack Phase I: Reality. They are living in a fantasy. But there’s a bigger logistical problem here, Headmaster.” Fajar looked directly at Kaien. “The demographic ratio of the Day Class is completely fractured.”

Kaien sighed, his goofy facade dropping for a moment to reveal the tired administrator beneath. “You noticed.”

“It’s impossible not to,” Fajar pointed out. “The Day Class is over ninety percent female. The few boys we do have are completely overshadowed, demoralized, and physically passive. A society cannot function when one demographic holds all the aggressive, chaotic energy and the other is entirely suppressed. If we want to build a real physical bridge to the Night Class, we need more male students to balance the psychological dynamic.”

“Cross Academy only recently transitioned to a fully co-ed system for the Day Class,” Kaien explained smoothly, though his eyes betrayed a hint of calculation. “But you are correct, Fajar-kun. The overwhelming presence of the Night Class males has severely stunted the confidence of our human boys. I will look into recruiting external transfer students to balance the roster in the coming semesters.”

“In the meantime, we have to work with the foundation we have,” Fajar said.

Kaien suddenly smiled, a small, knowing glint returning to his bespectacled eyes. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a crisp, white envelope sealed with black wax. He slid it across the polished mahogany surface toward Fajar.

“Speaking of the foundation we have,” Kaien mused. “It seems you left quite an impression during your physical education assessment on your second day, Fajar-kun.”

Yuki blinked in confusion. “Wait, Fajar took a P.E. assessment? I thought he just watched.”

“He did a little more than watch,” Zero muttered, glaring at the floor. “He walked into the gym, completely ignored the curriculum, and challenged Takahashi, the Kendo Club Captain, to a spar. Put him on the floor in three seconds.”

“He was completely rigid,” Fajar stated, unapologetic as he picked up the envelope. “He had the muscles of an athlete, but his internal energy was completely stagnant. He wasn’t fighting; he was just mechanically swinging a stick. Honestly, he spends more time just passing the time and helping the Day Class girls do light stretches than acting like a martial artist. It was disappointing.”

Fajar broke the wax seal and pulled out the thick parchment inside. As soon as his fingers brushed the paper, his Radar Intent flared.

Fajar’s eyes narrowed. The faint, residual energy clinging to the letter was completely different from the stagnant, robotic aura of the boy he had thrown to the gym floor days ago. This energy was sharp. Heavy. It carried the distinct scent of ozone and polished steel.

“A formal letter of rechallenge,” Kaien announced cheerfully, lacing his fingers together. “Captain Takahashi has requested a private, unsanctioned rematch with you, Fajar-kun. Tomorrow evening, in the old Kendo Dojo.”

Fajar stared at the ink on the page, his Shonen instincts immediately piecing the puzzle together. The boy he had fought wasn’t the real Takahashi. It had been a proxy—a modified, artificial soul placed inside a physical vessel to maintain appearances and do the mundane chores of the club while the real captain was away.

A massive, predatory grin spread across Fajar’s face. The boredom of the ordinary human roster was suddenly gone.

“So,” Fajar murmured to himself, his internal Qi pulsing with sudden anticipation. “The real one finally decided to show up.”

Fajar folded the letter and slipped it into his uniform pocket. He looked at Yori, then at Yuki and Zero.

“Wakaba-san, continue your observations of the Day Class. Zero, keep suppressing your fangs. I have a club to join.”

---

[Day 8 - 11:00 PM: The Old Kendo Dojo]

The old kendo dojo sat on the far edge of the Cross Academy campus, surrounded by dense forest. The sliding wooden doors were open, letting the cold night air and the pale moonlight spill across the polished floorboards.

Sayori Wakaba crouched silently in the rafters above, completely hidden in the shadows. Following Fajar’s strict instructions, she had regulated her breathing using Phase I: Bio-Maintenance, lowering her heart rate until she practically blended into the wood.

Below her, Fajar stood in the center of the dojo, wearing a loose white gi.

Across from him stood Captain Takahashi. He was fully dressed in traditional kendo armor, his face completely hidden behind the metal grille of his men (helmet). But the aura radiating from him was terrifying. It wasn’t the arrogant, magical pressure of a vampire; it was the dense, freezing, heavy gravity of a seasoned warrior.

Takahashi didn’t offer a wooden bokken. He reached down to the floor, picked up two unsheathed, live-steel katanas, and tossed one across the room.

Fajar caught the katana by the hilt, the cold weight of real steel settling into his grip. A feral, excited grin stretched across his face.

“Live blades,” Fajar noted, his internal Qi surging through his newly opened Minor Chakras. “You really aren’t playing the schoolboy anymore, are you?”

Takahashi didn’t reply. He simply raised his blade into a flawless, high-guard stance. The very air in the dojo seemed to crystallize and drop in temperature.

He’s fast, Fajar’s Radar Intent warned him a fraction of a second before Takahashi moved.

The wooden floorboards didn’t even creak. Takahashi vanished from his spot and reappeared directly in front of Fajar, bringing his katana down in an explosive, vertical cleave.

Fajar’s newly synchronized nervous system fired. He pivoted on his heel, parrying the strike with the flat of his blade. The impact rang like a thunderclap, sending a violent shockwave through the empty dojo. Fajar’s boots slid backward across the wood, his wrists screaming from the sheer kinetic force.

Heavy! Fajar thought, his grin widening.

Fajar retaliated, using the Moonlight Lightfoot steps to blur into the shadows. He launched a barrage of rapid-fire thrusts aimed at the gaps in Takahashi’s armor. His technique was flawless. His intent-reading was perfect.

But it wasn’t enough.

Takahashi’s blade moved with hundreds of years of ingrained, lethal muscle memory. He effortlessly deflected Fajar’s blinding strikes, step for step. Every time Fajar tried to exploit an opening, Takahashi’s blade was already there, acting as a perfect, impenetrable wall of ice and steel.

Fajar’s soul fragment possessed the knowledge of a deity, but his high-school vessel lacked the raw physical stats and the life-or-death battle experience of a true war veteran.

With a sudden, blinding burst of speed, Takahashi stepped inside Fajar’s guard. The back of Takahashi’s hilt slammed brutally into Fajar’s sternum, knocking the breath from his lungs. As Fajar stumbled, Takahashi spun, hooked his foot behind Fajar’s ankle, and sent him crashing hard onto his back.

Before Fajar could even blink, the cold, razor-sharp edge of Takahashi’s katana was pressed directly against his throat.

Fajar’s sword lay five feet away on the floor.

He was utterly, flawlessly defeated.

For a moment, the dojo was dead silent. In the rafters, Yori held her breath in absolute terror.

Then, something entirely unexpected happened. Fajar looked up at the blade at his throat, and the shock on his face melted away.

Fajar threw his head back against the floorboards and began to laugh.

It wasn’t a nervous laugh, or a defeated chuckle. It was a roar of pure, ecstatic joy. It had been an eternity since his original self had felt the desperate thrill of being overpowered. This wasn’t the cheap, hereditary magic of an arrogant Pureblood vampire. This was pure, earned, overwhelming martial strength. It was so refreshing it made his soul vibrate.

“Amazing,” Fajar breathed, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, his eyes burning with absolute respect. “Your foundation is a masterpiece. I couldn’t read your intent because your mind is completely empty in a fight. Who exactly are you?”

Takahashi lowered his katana. He reached up, unclasped his helmet, and pulled it off, tossing it aside.

The face underneath wasn’t the generic, broad-shouldered teenager Fajar had fought days ago. It was a boy who looked no older than Fajar himself, with spiky, pure-white hair and piercing, fiercely intelligent teal eyes. He let out a long, weary sigh, a plume of cold air escaping his lips despite the warm summer night.

“You have terrible defensive habits, Fajar,” the white-haired boy criticized, his voice carrying the stern, authoritative tone of a military commander. “Your intent-reading makes you arrogant. You rely on predicting the strike instead of reinforcing your guard.”

Fajar sat up, dusting off his gi, his grin refusing to fade. “I’ll keep that in mind. And you are?”

“Captain of the 10th Division of the Gotei 13,” he replied, sheathing his katana. “Tōshirō Hitsugaya.”

Fajar blinked, the Shonen data in his head instantly clicking into place. “A Soul Reaper. Well, that explains the portable Gigai I fought the other day. But what is a Captain of the Gotei 13 doing playing Kendo instructor in a high school full of vampires?”

Hitsugaya crossed his arms, leaning against a wooden pillar. “I’m here because your boss sent me.”

Fajar paused. “My boss?”

“Your original self. The deity currently sitting in the White Void,” Hitsugaya explained, his tone strictly professional. “For the past few weeks, he and his data companion have been observing your progress in this realm. You’ve cleared the biological hurdles. You’ve secured the Day Class informant. You’re executing the Coexistence Project exactly as planned.”

Hitsugaya looked out the open dojo doors toward the distant, towering silhouette of the Moon Dormitory.

“But your original self ran the logistical simulations,” Hitsugaya continued. “You are an anomaly. With enough time, you will inevitably grow strong enough to conquer this school, crush the Hunter Association, and physically break the Vampire Senate. But breaking a world is easy. Forcing peace is just a dictatorship.”

Hitsugaya looked back at Fajar, his teal eyes intense.

“The deity realized that achieving genuine coexistence, harmony, and a true bridge between the Day Class and Night Class cannot be done by a single, terrifying anomaly acting alone. You need a functioning human society. You need peers. You need an equalized ecosystem,” Hitsugaya stated. “So, he decided to bring in reinforcements.”

Fajar slowly pushed himself off the floor, his mind racing with the implications. The Lord of Infinite Realities was actively interfering to ensure the human faction wasn’t just relying on Fajar’s power, but actually building a formidable roster.

“Reinforcements,” Fajar repeated, a massive smile splitting his face. “So I’m not the only transfer student joining the human side?”

“Not even close,” Hitsugaya said, tossing Fajar his katana back. “Welcome to the Co-ed expansion of Cross Academy.”

---

[Day 8 - 11:05 PM: The Old Kendo Dojo]

Fajar stood in the center of the dojo, the cold moonlight reflecting off the live steel of his katana. He looked at the white-haired Captain of the 10th Division with immense, unfiltered curiosity.

“Reinforcements,” Fajar repeated, a massive smile splitting his face. “So I’m not the only transfer student joining the human side. But why the Gotei 13? Your jurisdiction is the cycle of souls in your own universe. Cross Academy is way outside your patrol route.”

Tōshirō let out a quiet breath, his teal eyes reflecting the weight of his responsibilities.

“It used to be outside our patrol route,” Tōshirō corrected him, leaning his katana against his shoulder. “But things changed after the Blood War with Yhwach. After your original self—the Divine Physician—finished healing the fatally wounded in the Seireitei and departed, Aizen Sōsuke broke his seals and chased you into the infinite realities to cure his own stagnation.”

Tōshirō gestured to the empty air around them.

“When a deity and an immortal transcendent tear through the fabric of the universe, the borders don’t just close behind them,” Tōshirō explained. “Dimensional portals began opening across the Rukongai and the Human World. Formally, the Head Captain extended the duties of the Soul Reapers to be bidirectional. We don’t just protect our reality from external threats anymore. We protect other realities from our concepts. If a corrupted Hollow, an evil Arrancar, a rogue Soul Reaper, or a surviving Quincy slips through a portal and invades a world like this one, it is our duty to hunt them down.”

Fajar crossed his arms, his smile softening into a look of genuine respect. “A multidimensional police force. That’s a heavy burden.”

“It’s a necessary one,” Tōshirō said firmly. Then, his stern expression faltered slightly, replaced by a look of deep, quiet gratitude. “But informally… the Gotei 13 owes your original self a massive debt. You brought Captain Unohana back from the brink. You healed Ukitake. And…”

Tōshirō paused, looking away for a fraction of a second.

“…you healed Momo. You fixed her heart when we thought she was broken beyond repair. Hinamori and I owe the Deity a profound, personal debt. So, when the Lord of Infinite Realities offered a collaboration, the Head Captain agreed immediately. Cross Academy is one of our joint operational zones.”

In the rafters above, Sayori Wakaba quietly processed the mind-breaking revelation. Soul Reapers. Dimensions. Deities. The vampires in the Moon Dormitory suddenly felt like very, very small players on a massive cosmic chessboard.

“So, you’re here to help me beat up vampires?” Fajar asked, stretching his shoulders.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Fajar,” Tōshirō said, his strict, commanding tone returning instantly. “I am a Captain. I have multiple dimensional sectors to manage, and tracking rogue Hollows takes priority over high school vampire politics. I am not here to fight your battles or solve the Coexistence Project for you. You are the vanguard of this world. I am just the backup.”

Tōshirō reached into his gi and pulled out a small, green, pill-like object—a Soul Candy.

“I have to return to the Seireitei,” Tōshirō said. He walked over to the discarded Kendo armor and tossed the pill directly into the chest piece of the Gigai.

Instantly, the artificial body shifted. The aura of the white-haired Captain vanished, replaced by the stagnant, robotic, deeply ordinary presence of “Captain Takahashi.” The Gigai stood up, completely devoid of Tōshirō’s freezing spiritual pressure, and offered Fajar a polite, vacant bow.

“The modified soul will remain in the vessel,” Tōshirō instructed, his physical form now entirely invisible to normal human eyes, though Fajar’s Radar Intent could still see the glowing, freezing outline of the Shinigami. “He will maintain the club’s cover, handle the Day Class girls, and act as your sparring partner if you need to hit something. If the situation at Cross Academy escalates beyond local vampire politics—if Rido Kuran summons something he shouldn’t, or if the Senate moves to slaughter the humans—feed your Qi into Takahashi. It will act as a dimensional pager.”

Tōshirō turned his back, resting his hand on the hilt of his Zanpakutō.

“Do not die, Fajar,” Tōshirō warned, looking over his shoulder one last time. “Build your human foundation. Fix this school. If you need the 10th Division… we will answer.”

With a sudden, silent burst of Shunpo (Flash Step), the white-haired Captain vanished entirely from the dojo, leaving no trace but a faint, lingering chill in the air.

Fajar stood alone with the robotic Takahashi. Fajar looked down at his own hands, feeling the thrill of the overwhelming defeat still humming in his nerves. He clenched his fists, a fire igniting in his chest.

“Alright,” Fajar grinned to himself. “Time to get stronger.”

---

The quiet hum of the radiator was the only sound in the dorm room. Yuki sat cross-legged on her bed, meticulously wiping down the metal casing of the Artemis Rod with a polished cloth. She looked exhausted, but the dark circles under her eyes were slightly lighter now that she no longer had to hide the reality of her duties from her roommate.

At her desk, Yori stared blankly at her open biology textbook. She wasn’t reading. Her mind was entirely consumed by the memory of the cold, moonlit Kendo dojo.

Soul Reapers. The Gotei 13. A Lord of Infinite Realities. The sheer scale of it was completely staggering. For years, the vampires of the Moon Dormitory had seemed like the absolute pinnacle of danger—immortal, untouchable apex predators. But listening to the white-haired Captain speak, Yori had realized that to the wider cosmos, Cross Academy was just a tiny, fragile snow globe. And Fajar was the anomaly sent to shake it.

Yori looked over her shoulder at Yuki.

Just a few nights ago, Yuki had cried on the floor of this exact room, crushed by the guilt of keeping the vampire secret from Yori. Now, Yori found herself sitting on a secret a billion times larger. The irony tasted like ash. She refused to let a new wall build between them just as the old one had fallen.

“Yuki,” Yori called out softly, turning her chair around.

Yuki looked up, offering a tired but genuine smile. “Yeah? Stuck on the biology homework? Because I haven’t even started, and I am definitely going to fail.”

Yori offered a faint, dry chuckle. “No, it’s not the homework. I was just… thinking about the other night. In the Headmaster’s office. When Fajar opened that tear in space.”

Yuki shivered slightly, putting the Artemis Rod down. “Don’t remind me. That dark portal thing… it felt worse than the aura of a starving Level E. I still don’t understand what kind of magic Fajar uses. Even Kaname-sama can’t just rip a hole in the air like that.”

Yori took a deep breath, grounding herself. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

“Yuki… what if I told you Fajar isn’t just a human with weird magic?” Yori asked, testing the waters carefully. “What if I told you he was a dimensional traveler?”

Yuki blinked. She stared at Yori for a long moment, the gears in her head visibly trying to process the sentence. Then, a slow, bewildered laugh escaped her lips.

“A dimensional traveler?” Yuki repeated, rubbing her temples. “You mean, like… from those sci-fi manga Takuma-senpai reads? Like an alien?”

“Something like that,” Yori replied, keeping her voice incredibly steady. “A soul from an entirely different reality, sent here by a literal deity.”

Yuki let out a longer sigh, falling backward onto her mattress and staring up at the ceiling. To a girl whose entire life was defined by the visceral, biological threat of fangs, bloodlust, and the terrifying political chessboard of the Vampire Senate, the concept of “infinite realities” was completely abstract. It just didn’t compute.

“Honestly, Yori?” Yuki murmured, a wry smile on her face. “Between Zero trying to drink my blood, the Headmaster’s pacifist obsession, and the Night Class fangirls trying to climb the gates every night… if Fajar sprouted wings tomorrow and said he was an alien deity from the fourth dimension, I’d probably just ask him if he still needs to take the math midterms.”

Yori let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. The tension in her chest evaporated.

Yuki turned her head on the pillow, looking at Yori with warm, trusting eyes. “Vampires, aliens, dimensional travelers… it doesn’t really matter to me. The cosmic scale is way above my paygrade. All I care about is that he healed my arm, he stopped Zero from crossing the line, and he protected you in that weird dark dimension. But… why bring this up like a ‘what if’?”

Yori stood up from her desk and walked over, sitting on the edge of Yuki’s bed.

“Because a few days ago, you were terrified that your secrets would push us apart,” Yori said honestly, her voice soft but firm. “I found out some things about Fajar’s origins recently. Massive things. Things that make the vampires look incredibly small. But I realized that if I keep those things locked in my head, I’m doing the exact same thing you did.”

Yuki sat up, her expression softening with profound understanding. She reached out and took Yori’s hand.

“You don’t have to explain the universe to me, Yori,” Yuki said gently. “I know you’re working with him now. I know he has a plan for the school. As long as you are safe, and as long as we’re on the same side… I don’t need to know how the magic tricks work.”

Yori squeezed her best friend’s hand, a rare, genuine smile breaking across her pragmatic features. “We’re on the same side, Yuki. Always.”

The floor is yours, Creator! We have firmly established Yori’s loyalty and Yuki’s grounded perspective. Where do we take the narrative next?

---

User: Anda berkata

Next up:

• Yori meets Fajar telling she overheard everything, told Yuki, and asks for debriefing.

• Fajar goes in with Yori into the Harrowing Interstice or Corridor of Darkness to debrief there while taking a stroll.

• Fajar will say Yori overhearing everything transforms her into an anomaly just like Fajar whether she wants to or not. Yuki as well after telling her but she’s to busy being the disciplinary commitee. Nevertheless, Yori is the first because of her calm, open minded, etc and soon there can be more.

• Core point is having the same goal as the principal which is coexistence but what the principal does not know is that Fajar’s scale is coexistence on cosmic level.

• Yori knows Fajar never intended to keep secrets. Fajar further says if he really wants to keep it secret, he would not have aced PE and the rest of other classes and would not have subdue Zero. Fajar explained that others will think he is crazy because he does not have the power yet to back his claims.

• Even when opening the portal to the Harrowing Interstice in the principal room, they are defensive and prioritize Yori’s well being but never have the curiosity. Fajar’s opinion is because their attentions are exhausted on the vampires. Even Yori only thought of travelling around the academy through this corridor while it can be used to travel infinitely far beyond.

• Fajar continues that Yori saw how they thought Fajar was absurb and unimaginable when Fajar said that when humans become strong, the opposite can happen where vampires are oppressed intead. Here Fajar shows in Seven Deadly Sins, that the vampires were conquered by the demonic army and forced to serve the demons. In many Wuxia and Murim worlds, vampires are hunted for their life essence material. Some are so despictable that when vampires are on verge of extinction, they actually force breed them making them the livestocks instead. My peers are probably already there handling the situation.

• Invitation to join Fajar is open anytime. Yori may take her time to think. Also everyone is invited but just waiting for the right time. Fajar tells Yori probably the next one to stumble onto Fajar next after Yori is Takuma Ichijo.

---

Gemini: Chapter 1.5: The Soul Reaper’s Assessment (Continued)

[Day 10 - 5:00 PM: The Old Campus Greenhouse]

The afternoon sun cast long, fractured shadows through the broken glass of the old greenhouse. Fajar sat cross-legged on his usual concrete bench, his eyes closed as he cycled his Qi through his newly opened Minor Chakras.

The crunch of glass under a familiar, pragmatic stride announced her arrival.

Sayori Wakaba walked into the greenhouse. She didn’t look nervous, but her posture was rigid with absolute focus. She walked right up to Fajar’s bench, adjusted her glasses, and dropped the bomb.

“I overheard everything last night at the Dojo,” Yori stated flatly. “I heard the white-haired Captain. I know you’re a soul fragment of a literal deity, and I know this school is just one reality out of an infinite number.”

Fajar opened his eyes. He didn’t look surprised. A slow, highly amused smile spread across his face. “I know you were in the rafters, Wakaba-san. I could hear your heartbeat.”

“Then you should also know I told Yuki,” Yori added, refusing to break eye contact. “I’m not going to keep a secret that massive from my best friend, not after she just stopped lying to me.”

Fajar chuckled, swinging his legs off the bench. “And what did the Prefect say?”

“She said the cosmic scale is above her paygrade and told me to help you fix the school.”

Fajar threw his head back and laughed. “I love her grounded perspective. Truly, Yuki has the ultimate tunnel vision. Most people would have an existential crisis.” Fajar stood up, stretching his arms. “You want a debriefing, don’t you?”

“Desperately,” Yori admitted.

“Then let’s take a walk,” Fajar said. He raised his right hand, hooked his fingers into the air, and tore a jagged vertical fissure into the fabric of reality. The freezing, suffocating pressure of the Harrowing Interstice flooded the greenhouse.

Yori didn’t flinch this time. She reached out, caught the heavy, dark coat Fajar manifested for her, wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, and stepped into the cosmic void.

[Day 10 - 5:10 PM: The Harrowing Interstice (Outer Layer)]

The infinite corridor of swirling liquid shadow was just as oppressive as before, but walking beside Fajar, Yori felt an anchor of calm. The whispers of a billion realities echoed faintly around them as they strolled down the non-existent path.

“By overhearing that conversation, and by accepting the truth, you’ve transformed, Yori,” Fajar said, his voice echoing with a heavy resonance in the void. “You are an anomaly now, just like me. You no longer fit the baseline human algorithm of this world.”

“What about Yuki?” Yori asked, pulling the collar of her coat up against the spiritual chill.

“Yuki is an anomaly too, now that you’ve told her,” Fajar nodded. “But she is too deeply entrenched in her duties as the Disciplinary Committee to step off the board right now. She has to play her role. You, on the other hand, are the first true wild card. You’re calm, your mind is remarkably open, and you aren’t blinded by fear or lust.”

Fajar placed his hands in his pockets as they walked. “Headmaster Cross and I actually share the exact same goal: Coexistence. But his scale is incredibly small. He wants vampires and humans to share a classroom. I want to build a framework for coexistence on a cosmic scale.”

Yori looked at him, her pragmatic mind piecing it together. “You never actually tried to hide who you were, did you?”

“Never,” Fajar confirmed smoothly. “If I really wanted to be a secret agent, I would have purposefully failed the P.E. exam. I wouldn’t have corrected Zero’s posture. I wouldn’t have effortlessly subdued a starving Level E on my first week. The truth is, if you run around telling people you’re a dimensional deity without the physical power to back it up, they don’t think you’re a god. They think you’re insane.”

Fajar gestured out into the swirling darkness of the Interstice.

“I waited for you to observe me, to see the physical proof, and to ask the right questions. But look at how the others reacted,” Fajar pointed out. “When I opened this exact portal in the Headmaster’s office… what did they do?”

Yori thought back to that night. “Zero drew his gun. Yuki reached for her weapon. The Headmaster stood up.”

“Exactly. They were defensive, and they prioritized your well-being. But did a single one of them ask what the portal was?” Fajar asked, a hint of genuine pity in his voice. “Did they ask about the dimensions? Did they wonder about the cosmic physics I had just shattered in front of them?”

Yori’s eyes widened slightly in realization. “No. They didn’t.”

“Because their attention is entirely exhausted,” Fajar said. “Their entire worldview is suffocated by vampires. The Night Class is their universe. Even you, Yori, with your brilliant, tactical mind… when you saw this portal, your first thought was that it was a convenient shortcut to bypass the dorm curfews. This corridor can take you to the edge of the universe, and you used it to cross a courtyard.”

Yori blushed slightly, looking down at her boots. “Point taken.”

Fajar stopped walking. He turned to face the swirling wall of shadow.

“When I told the Headmaster and Zero that humans could one day become strong enough to oppress the vampires, they thought it was an absurd, unimaginable fantasy,” Fajar said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, ancient cadence. “They think vampires are the absolute apex predators of reality. I think it’s time to show you the truth of the cosmos.”

Fajar waved his hand. The shadows rippled, forming three massive, distinct viewing windows into entirely different realities.

Yori gasped, stepping closer.

In the first window, she saw a world of bright, high fantasy (The Seven Deadly Sins). But the vampires there weren’t ruling from a pristine Moon Dormitory. They were kneeling in the blood-soaked ruins of Edinburgh. Yori watched in absolute shock as an army of terrifying, monstrous Demons, led by a short, dark-haired boy with absolute, crushing spiritual pressure (Zeldris), effortlessly slaughtered the vampire royalty, forcing the entire species into total, humiliating subjugation.

“In that world,” Fajar narrated coldly, “the vampires tried to rebel against the Demon Clan. They were crushed in a single night and turned into terrified servants.”

Fajar pointed to the second window. It was a sprawling, ancient Eastern landscape of towering mountains and flying martial artists (Murim/Wuxia Realm).

Yori watched as a group of human cultivators cornered a coven of vampires. The humans weren’t using anti-vampire guns; they were using raw, world-breaking Qi. They didn’t just kill the vampires—they harvested them. Yori watched in sheer horror as the human cultivators ripped the glowing ‘blood cores’ from the vampires’ chests to use as alchemy ingredients to boost their own lifespans.

“And in worlds where human cultivation exists,” Fajar continued, his voice grim, “vampires are nothing more than walking medicine. They are hunted for their life essence. Some sects are so despicable that when vampires near extinction, the humans actually force-breed them in cages, treating them entirely as livestock for cultivation materials.”

Yori felt sick to her stomach. She had spent the last week terrified of the Night Class viewing humans as livestock. Seeing humans do the exact same thing to vampires—with infinitely more cruelty—shattered the last remnants of her bias.

“Cruelty isn’t a species. It’s a choice,” Fajar reminded her, echoing the lesson from the Headmaster’s office. “My peers—the other deities, the Soul Reapers you heard about—they are already out there in the cosmos, handling those extreme worlds and maintaining the balance. I am here to handle this one, before the Vampires and Hunters destroy each other.”

Fajar waved his hand, dismissing the visions. The shadows returned to a calm, swirling black.

He turned back to Yori, offering a warm, grounding smile.

“The invitation to join my project is open anytime, Yori. You can take as much time as you need to think about the cosmic scale of it all,” Fajar said gently. “Eventually, everyone at Cross Academy will be invited. We’re just waiting for the right time, and the right catalysts.”

“Who’s next?” Yori asked, pulling the coat tighter, her resolve hardening. She was entirely on board. “Kageyama? Nadeshiko?”

“No, the human roster needs more time to bake,” Fajar mused, his eyes glinting with a predatory excitement as he thought of his next move. “I’m done waiting for the Day Class. It’s time to start bridging the gap. And I’m fairly certain the next person to stumble onto the truth about me…”

Fajar looked out toward the invisible horizon of the Interstice.

“…will be the Vice-President of the Night Class. Takuma Ichijo.”

---

Chapter 1.5 Fuka Kisaragi and Kanae

[Day 11 - 8:30 PM: The Sun Dormitory, Girls’ Wing]

The small desk lamp cast a warm, yellow glow over the dorm room. Kanae sat on the edge of her bed, watching her best friend with a deep, unconcealed crease of worry on her forehead.

Fuka Kisaragi was sitting at her desk, staring blankly at a textbook. Her skin, normally fair, looked almost translucent in the dim light, and a faint, sickly sheen of sweat clung to her collarbone. She looked exhausted, as if gravity itself was pulling her down.

“Fuka, you’re spacing out again,” Kanae said gently, walking over and placing a mug of hot milk on the desk. “You barely touched your dinner at the cafeteria. Are you feeling dizzy?”

Fuka blinked, snapping out of her trance. She offered Kanae a weak, apologetic smile. “Sorry, Kanae. Just… my anemia acting up again. I’ve been feeling so lethargic lately.”

“Lethargic is an understatement. You look like a ghost,” Kanae scolded, though her tone was entirely maternal. She crossed her arms, leaning against the desk. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for that special medicine you’ve been taking, I would have dragged you to the Headmaster’s infirmary myself. Did you take your dose today?”

Fuka’s hand instinctively drifted to her pocket, where a small, unmarked bottle of white tablets rested. Kaname Kuran’s special medicine. “Yes,” Fuka lied softly. She hadn’t taken it yet today. The medicine worked, but lately, the periods between doses were getting harder to endure. A strange, dry ache constantly clawed at the back of her throat. “I’ll be fine, Kanae. Really.”

Kanae sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair behind Fuka’s ear. “You better be. Midterms are coming up, and the Day Class girls are already losing their minds trying to organize another ‘accidental’ run-in with the Night Class before the exams. I heard Nadeshiko is trying to bribe Kageyama for the patrol routes. Idiots. They care more about Aido-senpai’s smile than passing math.”

At the mention of Hanabusa Aido, Fuka’s heart gave a strange, painful flutter. She looked down at her hands, the memory of his cold, beautiful eyes flashing in her mind. He was the only one who seemed to understand her illness. He was the one giving her the medicine.

“Yeah,” Fuka murmured, her voice distant. “Idiots.”

Kanae patted her shoulder. “Drink the milk and get some sleep. I’m going to take a shower.”

As Kanae left the room, Fuka reached into her pocket. She pulled out the small bottle and stared at the white pills. Her throat burned. The urge to leave the room, to walk out into the cold night air and head toward the forest surrounding the Moon Dormitory, was becoming an overwhelming, magnetic pull.

[Day 11 - 11:00 PM: Fajar’s Dorm Room]

Across the campus, in the boys’ wing, the air pressure inside Fajar’s room was behaving bizarrely.

The loose papers on his desk were vibrating. The temperature in the room fluctuated wildly between freezing and boiling. Fajar sat bare-chested in the center of the floor in a deep lotus position, his eyes closed, his breathing practically non-existent.

He was pushing past the Minor Chakras. He was consolidating the foundation.

Step 3: Dan Storage.

Until now, the Qi he had cultivated flowed through his meridians like mist, saturating his muscles and nerves. But mist was inefficient for sustained, heavy combat. He needed a reservoir.

With absolute, tyrannical focus, Fajar commanded the energy coursing through his body to sink. He forced it down into his lower abdomen—the Lower Dantian. The resistance was immense; his human vessel groaned under the pressure of compressing spiritual energy into a physical space.

But Fajar’s will was a deity’s will.

Compress. The mist thickened into a heavy, swirling liquid. It anchored itself just below his navel, forming a dense, burning core of pure, refined Qi. The moment the Dan Storage stabilized, the chaotic air pressure in the room snapped back to normal.

Fajar opened his eyes. They flashed with a brief, terrifying golden light before settling back into a calm, dark brown. His body felt impossibly light, yet grounded with the weight of a mountain. His stamina was now virtually limitless.

He took a slow breath, letting his Radar Intent sweep outward to test his newly expanded sensory range.

He felt Zero patrolling the front gates. He felt Yuki in the eastern courtyard. He felt the heavy, dark magic of the Aristocrats lounging in the Moon Dormitory.

And then, he felt an anomaly.

Fajar’s brow furrowed. It was a faint signature, moving slowly through the woods near the edge of the campus. It was a human soul, but it felt… wrong. It felt like an apple rotting from the inside out. It carried the distinct, chaotic static of a mutating biology. It was a human turning into a Level E vampire.

Fajar stood up and walked to his window. He traced the trajectory of the rotting signature. It had originated from the Sun Dormitory—specifically, the second floor of the girls’ wing—and it was walking a direct, practiced path toward the back entrance of the Moon Dormitory.

A Day Class girl is sneaking into the vampire den, Fajar noted. And she’s already infected.

Normally, Fajar would have jumped out the window and intercepted the anomaly immediately. But considering the signature originated from deep inside the girls’ dormitory, Fajar paused. Breaking into the girls’ dorm once for a tactical test was one thing. Making a habit of lurking around the female students’ quarters or tracking them through the woods at night crossed a line of personal dignity he refused to breach unless lives were in immediate danger.

“If the Night Class is hiding an infected human…” Fajar murmured to himself, his Shonen instincts sensing a massive, hidden conspiracy. “I need inside intel.”

[Day 12 - 12:15 PM: The Library]

The next day, during the lunch break, Fajar found Sayori Wakaba sitting alone at a secluded table in the library, a stack of reference books acting as a perfect barricade.

Fajar slid into the chair across from her, dropping a notebook on the table to keep up appearances.

Yori didn’t look up from her book. “Status report?” she asked quietly.

“I need your eyes in the Sun Dormitory,” Fajar said, keeping his voice to a low, localized whisper. “Last night, while I was meditating, I tracked an energy signature moving from the second floor of the girls’ wing directly to the Moon Dormitory. Someone is bypassing the Disciplinary Committee entirely.”

Yori finally looked up, her pragmatic eyes narrowing. “Nadeshiko? She’s been trying to figure out the patrol routes for weeks.”

“No. Not Nadeshiko,” Fajar corrected, his expression turning serious. “The signature I felt was biologically unstable. Wakaba-san, whoever is sneaking out isn’t just a fangirl trying to get a picture. They are infected. Someone in your dorm is slowly turning into a Level E vampire, and the Moon Dormitory is covering it up.”

Yori’s breath hitched. Her mind instantly raced through the roster of girls on her floor. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“My senses do not lie,” Fajar stated firmly. “I know the rough coordinates of where she left from, but I refuse to skulk around the girls’ dorm to figure out exactly who it is. I need you to find her. Look for a girl who is chronically exhausted, extremely pale, skipping meals, or acting secretive at night.”

Yori closed her book, her expression hardening into absolute resolve. The thought of a girl slowly mutating into a monster just a few doors down from her and Yuki was terrifying, but she didn’t panic.

“Pale, exhausted, and secretive,” Yori repeated, committing the traits to memory. “I’ll find her, Fajar. Give me two days.”

---

[Day 13 - 7:00 AM: The Sun Dormitory Cafeteria]

Sayori Wakaba didn’t need to pick locks or crawl through air vents to gather intelligence. She was a pragmatist. People hid their secrets in the dark, but their symptoms were always on full display in the light.

Over the next forty-eight hours, Yori simply sat at her usual table with Yuki, eating her breakfast while her eyes casually scanned the room.

The checklist Fajar gave her was specific: Chronically exhausted, extremely pale, skipping meals, acting secretive.

It only took Yori one day to narrow the list down to three girls. By the second morning, she had her absolute confirmation. Two tables away, Fuka Kisaragi was staring blankly at a bowl of untouched rice. Her roommate, Kanae, was anxiously hovering over her, pushing a carton of milk into her hands and whispering fiercely about “taking her medicine.”

Yori watched as Fuka offered a weak, distracted nod, her hand instinctively drifting to her uniform pocket, gripping something inside with a desperate, white-knuckled tension.

That night, Yori stayed awake in her dark dorm room, sitting quietly by her cracked door. At exactly 1:15 AM, she heard the soft, uneven footsteps padding down the hall. Peeking out, Yori saw Fuka slipping down the stairs toward the side exit, her eyes slightly glazed over, walking with the magnetic pull of an addict.

Yori didn’t follow her into the woods. She was a baseline human, and Fajar had taught her enough about predatory instinct to know that following an infected target into a vampire den without Qi was a death sentence. She simply closed her door, locked it, and went to sleep. The objective was complete.

[Day 14 - 4:00 PM: Headmaster Cross’s Office]

The Headmaster’s office was tense. Kaien Cross sat behind his desk, the goofy facade entirely gone. Zero leaned against the far wall, his arms crossed tightly, glaring at the floor. Yuki stood near the window, looking deeply conflicted.

Fajar sat backward on one of the leather guest chairs, resting his chin on his arms casually. He didn’t look like a commanding officer receiving a report; he looked like a guy listening to a friend tell a wild story over lunch.

Yori stood by the desk, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Her name is Fuka Kisaragi,” Yori reported, keeping her voice even and analytical. “She’s in our class. She exhibits all the physical symptoms of severe, chronic blood loss, coupled with intense lethargy. Her roommate, Kanae, is under the impression that Fuka has anemia and is taking a ‘special medicine’ to treat it. I observed Fuka leaving the Sun Dormitory last night at 1:15 AM, taking the direct tree-line path toward the Moon Dormitory.”

Fajar whistled softly, a relaxed, appreciative smile on his face. “Flawless, Yori. Seriously, you figured that out without raising a single alarm. Remind me never to try and hide anything from you.”

Yori offered a small, rare smirk. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“This is impossible,” Yuki interrupted, her voice trembling slightly. “Fuka? I patrol those gates every night. If a Day Class student was wandering around the woods, Zero and I would have caught her.”

“Not if the Night Class is actively hiding her from you,” Fajar pointed out casually, leaning back. “Yuki, you patrol the gates. If an Aristocrat—or a Pureblood—gave her a VIP pass through the back woods and masked her scent from Zero, you’d never know.”

Zero’s hands clenched into tight fists. “A Level E mutating inside the human dorms. If she loses control…”

“She’ll bite whoever is closest,” Yori finished grimly. “Which is Kanae.”

Kaien laced his fingers together, his expression dangerously dark. “If Fuka was bitten during the summer, she should have been transferred to the Hunter Association’s medical ward immediately. The fact that Kaname Kuran bypassed my authority, hid her condition, and is secretly treating her on campus… it violates the very core of our peace treaty.”

“He’s not just treating her, Headmaster,” Fajar said, his casual tone hardening just a fraction. “Think about the timeline. Aido and Kaname are giving her ‘special medicine.’ If they had a real cure, she wouldn’t be rotting from the inside out. Her signature is unstable. They aren’t treating her; they’re using her as a clinical trial for an experimental drug.”

Zero scoffed, a bitter, furious sound. “Using a human girl as a lab rat. Typical.”

“So, what’s the play?” Fajar asked, looking around the room, specifically avoiding giving orders. “You guys are the official peacekeepers of this school. I’m just the transfer student who’s good at martial arts. Headmaster, do you want to storm the Moon Dormitory and demand answers?”

Kaien sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “If I confront Kaname directly without physical proof of the medicine or her condition, he will simply deny it, and it will trigger a political war with the Senate. We need to intercept her and secure the physical evidence—the pills—before we can act.”

Fajar grinned, standing up and stretching his shoulders. The dense reservoir of Qi in his lower Dantian hummed with anticipation.

“Perfect. That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say,” Fajar said smoothly. “You guys stay out of the woods tonight. Kaname has eyes everywhere. If the Disciplinary Committee suddenly changes its patrol route to intercept Fuka, the vampires will know. They’ll abort the meeting.”

Yuki looked worried. “Then who is going to stop her?”

Fajar tapped his own chest. “I will. My Qi doesn’t register as magic or vampiric aura. To the Night Class, I’m just a kid with zero spiritual pressure. I’ll intercept Fuka tonight, grab the ‘special medicine’, and see if I can clear the venom out of her system before she accidentally eats her best friend.”

Fajar looked over at Yori. “Keep an eye on Kanae tonight. If Fuka doesn’t make it back to the room, Kanae might panic.”

Yori nodded. “Understood.”

“Alright,” Fajar said, turning toward the door with a casual wave. “I’ve got a clinical trial to crash.”

---

[Day 14 - 11:45 PM: Fuka Kisaragi’s Perspective - The Sun Dormitory]

Fuka Kisaragi was drowning, and the surface of the water was getting further and further away.

She lay on her bed, clutching her stomach as a violently hot fever tore through her veins. The air in the dorm room felt so thin it was suffocating. Every sound—the wind rattling the windowpane, the hum of the radiator, and most terrifyingly, the steady, rhythmic thump-thump-thump of Kanae’s heartbeat across the room—echoed in her skull like a heavy drum.

Her throat felt like it was packed with dry, burning sand.

With trembling hands, Fuka reached under her pillow and pulled out the small, unmarked glass bottle. There were only a few white tablets left inside.

“Take these when the dizziness starts,” Kaname Kuran’s voice echoed in her memory. She remembered standing in the opulent, dimly lit parlor of the Moon Dormitory just a few nights ago. Kaname had sat on the velvet sofa, looking at her not as a student, but the way a scientist observes a fragile, fascinating specimen.

Beside him, Hanabusa Aido had stood silently. For all his dramatic, arrogant flair around the Day Class girls, Aido was entirely different when Fuka visited. His blue eyes always carried a heavy, complicated mixture of guilt and pity. He had been the one to press the bottle into her hands. “It’s a special medicine, Fuka. Don’t skip a dose. Promise me.”

She had promised. She had believed them.

Fuka popped the cork off the bottle, poured two white pills into her palm, and swallowed them dry. She closed her eyes, waiting for the familiar, cooling relief to wash over her—the soothing numbness that usually quelled the burning in her throat.

One minute passed. Then five.

Nothing happened.

The burning didn’t fade; it violently accelerated. A sudden, agonizing spasm wracked her body, and Fuka clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling a choked sob. The medicine wasn’t working anymore. Her body had built an immunity to Kaname’s experimental formula. The illusion of her “anemia” was shattering, replaced by a dark, primal starvation that she could no longer deny.

She remembered the summer before transferring to Cross Academy. The dark alley. The terrifying man with glowing red eyes. The piercing pain in her neck. She had convinced herself it was a bad dream, an animal attack. But as the burning in her throat morphed into a desperate, ravenous thirst, the horrific truth finally locked into place.

She wasn’t sick. She was mutating. She was a vampire.

A Level E.

“Fuka…?”

The soft, sleepy voice came from across the room. Kanae shifted in her bed, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She looked over at Fuka’s trembling silhouette in the dark.

“Fuka, are you crying? Is the fever back?” Kanae asked, throwing her covers off. Her bare feet padded softly against the floorboards. “Hold on, I’ll go get a cold towel—”

“Don’t,” Fuka gasped out, her voice a ragged, unnatural hiss. She scrambled backward, pressing her spine against the wall. “Kanae, stay away. Please.”

But Kanae was too kind, too stubbornly loyal. She took another step forward, reaching her hand out toward Fuka’s shoulder in the dark. “Don’t be stupid, you’re burning up. Let me help you.”

As Kanae drew closer, the scent hit Fuka.

It wasn’t the smell of Kanae’s floral shampoo or her laundry detergent. It was the sweet, intoxicating, overwhelmingly rich scent of the blood pulsing just beneath the thin skin of Kanae’s wrist.

Fuka’s vision completely swam with crimson. Rational thought, love, and restraint were instantly incinerated by the absolute, biological imperative to feed.

Fuka didn’t even realize she had moved.

With unnatural speed, she lunged off the bed. Kanae let out a startled gasp as Fuka pinned her against the edge of the mattress. Fuka’s lips parted, and a pair of sharp, elongated fangs extended from her gums, tearing through her own bottom lip.

“Fuka, what—”

Fuka buried her face into Kanae’s shoulder and bit down hard.

The warm, metallic taste of blood flooded Fuka’s mouth. For two terrifying seconds, it was pure, unadulterated euphoria. The burning in her throat vanished, replaced by an ecstatic rush of energy that made her entire body tremble.

And then, Kanae screamed.

It was a sharp, high-pitched scream of absolute agony and terror.

The sound shattered the blood-lust. Fuka’s human consciousness violently snapped back into control. She gasped, ripping her fangs out of Kanae’s flesh and stumbling backward in the dark.

Kanae collapsed onto the floor, clutching her bleeding shoulder. She looked up at Fuka, her eyes wide, reflecting nothing but sheer, primal horror. She was hyperventilating, completely paralyzed by the shock of what her best friend had just become.

Fuka looked at her own trembling hands. They were stained crimson. She tasted her best friend’s blood on her tongue.

The weight of her sin crushed her soul instantly. She had done the unforgivable. She had become the monster from her nightmares. If she stayed here, she would kill Kanae. If she went to the Headmaster, she would be hunted down. There was no medicine. There was no cure. She was a rotting thing, destined to lose her mind and devour the people she loved.

There was only one way to end it.

“I’m sorry,” Fuka sobbed, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “Kanae… I’m so sorry.”

Fuka turned and bolted. She tore out of the dorm room, sprinting down the hallway with terrifying, vampiric speed. She burst through the side exit of the Sun Dormitory and plunged into the freezing darkness of the forest.

She didn’t care about the Disciplinary Committee. She didn’t care about the rules. Fuka ran blindly through the trees, the branches tearing at her uniform, her destination completely fixed in her mind.

The Moon Dormitory. She needed to find Hanabusa Aido. He was the one who had given her the medicine. He was the one who had looked at her with pity. He was a predator, a true Aristocrat.

Kill me, Fuka begged in her mind as the towering silhouette of the Moon Dormitory finally appeared through the trees. Aido-senpai… please kill me before I eat anyone else.

---

[Day 14 - 11:47 PM: Headmaster Cross’s Office]

Fajar was still stretching his shoulders, preparing to leave, when his Radar Intent suddenly spiked. The unstable, rotting signature in the girls’ dormitory violently flared with the unmistakable, euphoric rush of a vampire tasting fresh blood.

Fajar paused. He dropped his arms and let out a slow, casual sigh.

“Well,” Fajar said, his voice completely devoid of panic but heavy with finality. “Looks like we’re too late. She just took a bite.”

The temperature in the office plummeted. Zero’s eyes widened in horror before his hunter instincts completely took over. Without a word, he kicked the office door open and sprinted down the hallway. Yuki gasped, grabbing her Artemis Rod, and tore after him. Yori didn’t hesitate, breaking into a dead sprint right behind her best friend.

Fajar didn’t run. He calmly walked over to Headmaster Cross’s desk.

“Headmaster,” Fajar said smoothly. “I need you to write an official administrative document, right now. State clearly that Fuka Kisaragi and Kanae are officially under my absolute jurisdiction and protection, effective immediately.”

Kaien Cross didn’t ask questions. He pulled out a piece of official Cross Academy parchment, scribbled the mandate with lightning speed, stamped it with the Headmaster’s official seal, and handed it to Fajar.

Fajar slipped the paper into his gi. “Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

[Day 14 - 11:50 PM: The Sun Dormitory, Girls’ Wing]

Zero and Yuki burst into Fuka’s dorm room, their weapons drawn. The metallic scent of blood was suffocating.

Fuka was gone. Kanae was collapsed on the floor, hyperventilating and clutching her bleeding shoulder in absolute terror.

Yori slid into the room a second later. She took one look at the situation, immediately dropping to her knees beside Kanae. She didn’t ask what happened; the bite marks were obvious. Yori pulled a clean towel from the bathroom rack and pressed it hard against the wound.

“Go!” Yori barked, her pragmatic voice cutting through the panic as she anchored the sobbing girl. “I’ve got her! Track Fuka down!”

Zero’s lilac eyes glowed with pure killing intent. He spun around, tracking the lingering scent of Fuka’s bloodlust. “She’s heading for the Moon Dormitory. Move!”

[Day 14 - 11:55 PM: The Moon Dormitory Gates]

Fuka collapsed onto the cold stone path just outside the towering gates of the Moon Dormitory. Her uniform was torn, her hands stained with her best friend’s blood.

The heavy iron gates clicked open. Hanabusa Aido walked out, his blonde hair catching the moonlight. His usual arrogant, playful smirk was completely gone. His ice-blue eyes looked down at the sobbing, broken girl with a profound, heavy sorrow.

“Aido-senpai…” Fuka choked out, her voice a ragged sob. “I did it… I bit Kanae. The medicine stopped working. I’m a monster.”

Aido crouched down in front of her. He didn’t flinch away from the blood. He knew this day was coming. Kaname’s experiment had failed, and Fuka was the collateral damage.

“I’m sorry, Fuka,” Aido said softly, his voice devoid of its usual theatrics.

“Please,” Fuka begged, grabbing the sleeve of his white uniform. “Before I completely lose my mind… before I hurt anyone else… please kill me. You’re the only one who was honest with me. Do it.”

Aido closed his eyes. A freezing, heavy aura began to bleed from his skin. The grass around his boots crystallized with frost. He raised his hand, aiming his palm at Fuka’s chest, preparing to freeze her heart instantly so she wouldn’t feel any pain.

“Stop right there, Aido!”

Yuki burst through the treeline, the Artemis Rod extended. Zero was right beside her, the Bloody Rose aimed directly at Aido’s head.

“Step away from her!” Zero snarled, his finger hovering over the trigger.

Aido stood up, glaring at the Disciplinary Committee. “Stay out of this, Kiryu! You don’t understand what’s happening! The pills failed. She’s a Level E now. There is no cure for her. If I don’t do this, she’ll become a mindless beast, or the Senate will execute her!”

“You don’t get to execute a Day Class student to cover up Kaname’s failed experiments!” Yuki screamed, tears of desperation in her eyes as she stood between Aido and the sobbing Fuka. “There has to be another way! We can isolate her, we can—”

“There is no other way, Yuki!” Aido yelled back, the ice magic flaring violently around him. “She asked me to do it! Don’t make this harder than it already is!”

“Actually,” a calm, deeply amused voice interrupted. “There is another way.”

Aido’s ice magic instantly sputtered. Zero and Yuki froze.

Fajar was standing directly behind Fuka.

He hadn’t dropped from the trees. He hadn’t run out of the woods. There had been no sound of footsteps, no displacement of air, and absolutely zero spiritual pressure. To the incredibly sensitive predatory instincts of Aido and Zero, Fajar simply hadn’t existed a millisecond ago.

Before Aido could even raise his hand, Fajar reached into his gi and held up the parchment bearing the Headmaster’s seal, right in front of Aido’s face.

“Official decree from the Headmaster,” Fajar stated casually. “Fuka Kisaragi is now under my jurisdiction. I’ll be taking her for medical treatment. You Aristocrats can go back to your tea party.”

Aido’s eyes narrowed, his fangs baring slightly. “You arrogant human… I don’t know how you snuck up on me, but you can’t treat her! She’s rotting!”

“Watch me,” Fajar smirked.

Fajar reached down and grabbed Fuka by the back of her collar. He didn’t tear the sky open. He didn’t summon the suffocating pressure of the Interstice. He simply activated the portal inward, stepping backward into the void.

To Yuki, Zero, and Aido, the visual was completely mind-breaking.

One second, Fajar and Fuka were there. The next second, they were simply… deleted. Like a television screen glitching to black. No scent. No aura. Nothing.

Yuki stared at the empty air. Aido lowered his hand, his blue eyes wide with absolute, unadulterated shock.

[Day 15 - 12:30 AM: The Moon Dormitory Lounge]

The opulence of the Moon Dormitory’s main parlor felt suffocatingly tense. The crackling of the grand fireplace was the only sound in the room.

Every single member of the Night Class was gathered.

Kaname Kuran sat in the high-backed velvet armchair at the center of the room, his dark red eyes unreadable, resting his chin on his steepled fingers.

Standing in a semi-circle around him were the Aristocrats: Takuma Ichijo (with his usual smile completely gone), Senri Shiki and Rima Toya (looking unusually alert), Akatsuki Kain (his arms crossed tightly), Ruka Souen (looking deeply offended), and Seiren (standing silently in the shadows behind Kaname).

In the center of the room stood Hanabusa Aido. He was still rattled.

“I am telling you the truth, Kaname-sama,” Aido reported, his voice slightly tight. “The transfer student. Fajar. He appeared out of literally nowhere. My senses were fully expanded to watch for Zero and Yuki, but this human… he had zero biological or magical footprint. And when he took Fuka, they didn’t run away. They just vanished. It wasn’t teleportation magic. The space around them didn’t even ripple.”

“A human who can bypass the senses of an Aristocrat and vanish without a trace,” Takuma Ichijo murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “That’s deeply concerning. Especially since he claimed Fuka was under his ‘medical jurisdiction.’ What kind of medicine can a human offer a mutating Level E?”

Ruka scoffed, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. “He’s just a foolish Day Class boy who thinks he’s playing hero. If he tries to treat a Level E, she’ll just tear his throat out.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Ruka,” Kain rumbled, his deep voice carrying a warning. “I saw him during the courtyard transition on his first day. He wasn’t looking at us with fear, or with that disgusting infatuation the other girls have. He was analyzing us. He looked at us the way a hunter looks at a slow deer.”

Shiki, casually snapping a Pocky stick between his teeth, finally spoke up. “So, Kaname. He took your test subject. And he clearly knows we were running unauthorized experiments on a human. Are we going to hunt him down?”

Kaname was silent for a long moment. He closed his eyes, his brilliant, calculating mind running through the variables. This “Fajar” had effortlessly dismantled Zero’s feral breakdown days ago. Now, he possessed spatial abilities that defied vampire logic.

“No,” Kaname finally spoke, his voice soft but carrying the absolute, crushing authority of a Pureblood. “We will not hunt him down. Not yet.”

Aido looked frustrated. “But Kaname-sama, if he—”

“Aido,” Kaname interrupted softly, opening his glowing crimson eyes. “If this human truly possesses a way to halt Fuka Kisaragi’s mutation without wiping her memory or executing her… then he has accomplished something the Kuran bloodline has failed to do for a thousand years.”

The room fell dead silent.

Kaname stood up, walking toward the large glass window overlooking the dark campus.

“For now, we observe,” Kaname commanded. “But do not engage him alone. The board has changed. The Headmaster has finally played a piece that isn’t a hunter.” Kaname’s eyes narrowed as he stared into the dark forest. “Let us see what kind of miracles this anomaly can perform.”

---

[Day 15 - 12:05 AM: The Sun Dormitory, Girls’ Wing]

The air in Fuka and Kanae’s dorm room was heavy with the scent of blood and terror. Yori knelt on the floor, keeping firm pressure on Kanae’s bandaged shoulder. The bleeding had stopped, but Kanae was still trembling, her eyes fixed on the empty space where her best friend had vanished.

Suddenly, the air pressure in the center of the room shifted. It didn’t tear or explode; it simply folded outward. Fajar stepped out of the void, his hand firmly gripping the back of Fuka’s collar.

Fuka looked completely shattered. Her eyes were wide with horror, and she shrank away from the sight of Kanae, fully believing she was a monster entirely beyond salvation.

Fajar let go of her collar and gave her a gentle, but incredibly firm, push forward.

“Fuka,” Fajar said, his voice dropping its usual casual tone for a moment of quiet gravity. “Even if you believe you are completely doomed, running away into the woods to die is a coward’s exit. You owe your best friend a proper thank you, and a proper farewell. Look at her.”

Fuka hesitated, tears spilling over her pale cheeks. “Kanae… I’m a monster. I hurt you…”

Kanae didn’t care about the blood. She didn’t care about the fangs. Seeing Fuka alive and back in the room shattered whatever shock was left in her system. Kanae scrambled up from the floor, ignoring Yori’s hands, and threw her arms around Fuka in a desperate, bone-crushing hug.

“You idiot!” Kanae sobbed, burying her face into Fuka’s neck. “Don’t you ever run away from me like that! I don’t care what you are! I don’t care!”

Fuka’s knees buckled. She collapsed onto the floor, hugging Kanae back with everything she had, completely breaking down into loud, agonizing sobs of pure relief.

Fajar watched the touching reunion for exactly one minute. Then, he clapped his hands once. The sharp sound broke the tension instantly.

“Alright, that’s enough crying,” Fajar said smoothly, rolling up his sleeves. “We are on a tight biological clock, and I need to perform a system reboot. Kanae, stay close to her. Fuka, sit still and breathe.”

The Crash Therapy (Neuro-Meridian Override)

Fajar stepped behind Fuka and placed his palms squarely between her shoulder blades. He didn’t have his divine tools, but he didn’t need them. He had a profound understanding of the human machine, and a secret, cosmic ace up his sleeve.

Fuka’s body was vibrating with the chaotic static of the Level E venom. The toxin was viciously attacking her central nervous system.

First, the cosmic mandate. Deep within his core, Fajar ignited a microscopic fraction of his absolute authority—the Will Upon Reality. It was the conceptual equivalent of Supreme King’s Haki, a spiritual pressure that didn’t just push physical objects, but commanded the very laws of existence. He didn’t project it outward to intimidate; he focused it entirely inward, directly into Fuka’s bloodstream.

Cease. The command hit the vampiric toxin like a cosmic sledgehammer. In an instant, seventy percent of the venom mutating her cells was violently, conceptually crushed. The immediate, fatal threshold of her Level E descent was shattered. Fuka gasped as the burning in her throat instantly cooled. Fajar knew he couldn’t use this reality-bending trick in every session without fundamentally breaking her fragile human soul, but for this initial “crash therapy,” it was necessary to pull her back from the ledge.

Now, for the science.

Fajar seamlessly transitioned into Neuro-Meridian Therapy, flowing his dense Dan Storage Qi directly into her nervous system.

The Vagal Brake: He tapped the side of her neck, shooting a localized pulse of Qi into her Vagus Nerve. Fuka’s violently spiking heart rate instantly plummeted to a calm, steady rhythm. The fight-or-flight sympathetic nervous system was manually shut down.

Mitochondrial Oxygenation: He flooded her circulatory system with life-energy. Her dying red blood cells were artificially stimulated, synthesizing ATP and tricking her cells into feeling fully oxygenated. The biological panic of starvation ceased.

The Hypothalamus Bypass: Finally, he channeled Qi up her spinal cord and into her limbic system, bathing her amygdala and hypothalamus in soothing energy, forcefully initiating the release of GABA and endorphins to rewrite the predatory neural loop.

Fajar pulled his hands away, exhaling a slow, misty breath.

Fuka blinked. Her breathing was normal. The terrifying, blinding crimson hunger was completely gone. She touched her teeth; the fangs had retracted. She felt incredibly exhausted, as if she had just run a marathon, but her mind was completely, wonderfully her own.

“Yori,” Fajar instructed, looking over his shoulder. “Kanae is going to need to donate a very small amount of blood into a cup, just enough to stabilize Fuka’s physical baseline, and we’ll substitute the rest with standard iron supplements and whatever blood tablets Kanae managed to save. We’ll set up a periodic therapy schedule to keep her neural pathways clean.”

Yori nodded sharply, already moving to grab the medical supplies. “Understood.”

[Day 15 - 2:00 AM: Headmaster Cross’s Office]

The atmosphere in Kaien Cross’s office was vastly different from earlier that evening. The tension had shifted from panic to a profound, heavy realization.

Headmaster Cross sat behind his desk, his glasses reflecting the lamplight. Zero Kiryu leaned by the door, his eyes locked on Fuka, studying her for any signs of the beast. Yuki stood near Kaien, her shoulders finally dropping in relief. Yori, Kanae, and Fuka sat on the large leather sofa, while Fajar casually leaned against the window frame.

“I owe you an apology, Fuka-kun,” Kaien said softly, dropping all his usual theatrics. “As the Headmaster, I failed to protect you from the dangers lurking within my own school. What Kaname and the Night Class did by hiding your condition and using you as an experimental subject was a severe breach of trust.”

Kanae gripped Fuka’s hand tightly. “Headmaster… what is the Night Class? What did they do to her?”

Kaien looked at Fajar, who gave a slight, affirming nod. It was time.

“Cross Academy was built on a dream of coexistence, Kanae-kun,” Kaien explained gently. “The Day Class is human. But the Night Class… every student in the Moon Dormitory is a vampire.”

Kanae gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, but she didn’t let go of Fuka. Fuka looked down at her lap, the pieces finally falling into place. The beautiful, cold Aristocrats. The “anemia” medicine. Aido’s icy powers.

“You were bitten by a rogue vampire before you transferred here, Fuka,” Yuki stepped forward, her voice full of empathy. “The venom was slowly turning you into one of them. That’s why you attacked Kanae. It wasn’t your fault. You were sick.”

“And now, you are a patient,” Fajar chimed in, crossing his arms comfortably. “You aren’t cured, Fuka. You are still technically a vampire. But as long as you attend our periodic energy therapy sessions and manage your diet with Kanae’s help and the blood tablets, you will never lose your mind. You get to stay human where it counts.”

Zero scoffed lightly, though the absolute hatred usually reserved for vampires was noticeably absent when he looked at Fuka. “Don’t think you’re off the hook. You step out of line, and the Disciplinary Committee will handle it.”

“Actually, Zero is right,” Fajar said, pulling the official parchment from his gi and tossing it onto the Headmaster’s desk. “Let’s clarify the paperwork. That document I flashed at Aido didn’t put you under my personal command. It officially placed both you and Kanae under the joint, absolute jurisdiction of the Headmaster, the Disciplinary Committee, and our little investigation group.”

Fajar smiled, looking directly at the two terrified, but resilient girls on the couch.

“The Night Class lost their lab rat tonight,” Fajar declared, his tone shifting into one of undeniable camaraderie. “You guys know the biggest secret of Cross Academy now. Which means you’re officially part of the inner circle. Welcome to the party.”

Kanae wiped a stray tear from her eye and squeezed Fuka’s hand, offering a fierce, determined nod. Fuka looked up, her heart incredibly heavy with guilt, but for the first time in months, she felt a genuine spark of hope. She wasn’t going to turn to dust in Aido’s hands. She was going to live.