Valgrave Mansion — Night
The old chandelier swayed gently above the marble hall, casting fractured shadows across the long dining table. At its head, Howard Valgrave sat with his usual ice-cold composure, sipping tea that had long gone cold.
Opposite him, the twins — Isolde and Damien Valgrave — leaned back lazily in their chairs, (after killing rokuro and yuriko so easily) speaking in that razor-sharp tone only they could pull off.
“You gave him away,” Isolde said, her gloved fingers tapping the polished table in a slow rhythm. “To Gianluca Moretti, Natalia Draganov, and Dietrich Falk… they raised him for seven years.”
Damien’s gaze didn’t waver from Howard’s face. “Then Rokuro turn them into an experiment. And now you suddenly feel something about it?” His voice was low, but the weight of accusation was heavier than any shout.
Howard’s eyes narrowed, but his tone remained still. “You two have learned to speak like executioners.”
“That’s because we were raised to be Valgrave,” Isolde replied flatly.
The air between them was knife-thin when Adrian Valgrave walked in, his presence breaking the tension. “Don’t you two have somewhere to be? Last I checked, the Umbra League doesn’t pay its Glooms to sit here provoking your grandfather.”
The twins exchanged a smirk, their movements in perfect sync as they stood. “We’re not paid,” Damien corrected, “we’re sharpened.”
They walked out together, their boots echoing in the hall until the sound faded, leaving Howard alone with his silence.
Valgrave University — Afternoon
Ishaan’s energy had somehow fallen straight through the floor. He sat slouched at the common table, mumbling in a tone halfway between a complaint and a sermon.
“…and that’s why interplanetary taxation is just a scam, Saira. A scam I tell you. Designed to keep us—”
“Oh my god,” Saira groaned, massaging her temple. “There he goes again.”
Later That Night
Something in the air had shifted — maybe it was the faint music drifting from the gardens, maybe it was just the moonlight.
Every love pair seemed to drift together in the quiet hours:
Erik and Raiden talking softly in the courtyard, heads leaning close.
Avni and Lev leaning on the railing, sharing a rare, unguarded laugh.
Luce and Sayaka by the fountain, her hair catching the silver light as he listened intently to her words.
Dev and Saira walking the covered bridge, footsteps in rhythm with the wind.
And then… in their dorm room… Veer and Ishaan sat in silence.
“This,” Ishaan finally said, pointing out the window toward the couples, “is exactly why I didn’t want to come here.”
Veer suddenly stood and screamed toward the ceiling, “PLEASE change us into a different dorm!”
Morning — Breakfast Hall
Veer was back in form, already attempting to charm a group of Division girls. He got three rejections, two sarcastic laughs, and one well-aimed napkin-smack in under ten minutes.
When one girl flicked a spoon at him, it nicked his nose. Blood followed.
Ishaan was laughing so hard he almost dropped his tray. “You’re like a walking public service announcement for how not to flirt.”
Across the hall, the eight “love birds” sat together, smiling and talking. Veer glared at their table and muttered, “This guy, Luce — kills people yesterday and sits here smiling like he’s on a vacation.”
Ishaan added with mock solemnity, “Don’t forget Sayaka — she killed too. Only they can think of doing romance and murder in the same week.”
Luce looked over from his table. “What’s wrong with you guys?”
Training Board — Today’s Schedule
Saira scanned the display. “Alright, morning — four hours of combat with dummies.”
Avni smirked. “Ishaan… you’re my dummy.”
Ishaan froze. His mind flashed to the last time she ‘trained’ with him — a memory involving a split lip, two sprained fingers, and him curled up on the floor muttering in multiple languages.
“Mummy,” he said quietly, “I don’t want to be dummy…”
The day dragged on — a blur of repetitive drills, paperwork, and the kind of peace that felt unnatural without Elda breathing down their necks.
Four months into the Division of Order, their last Crucible loomed.
They entered the Division of Force expecting danger, adrenaline, maybe explosions.
Unfortunately…
Lecture Hall
The board read: FOUNDING OF VALGRAVE.
Ishaan stared. “…Fuck it, bro.”
Veer leaned over. “How bad can it be?”
The instructor — a stiff-looking man in grey — adjusted his glasses. “This course will cover the political, military, and cultural evolution of the Valgrave Dynasty over the past nine centuries—”
Veer’s smile faded. “Oh no.”
“—in detail.”
“Oh no no.”
“Total lecture hours: Two hundred and forty.”
Both of them: “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
The instructor didn’t blink. “Your screaming just added an extra hour to today’s lesson.”
Ishaan slapped his forehead. “Bro… we’re going to die of boredom before the enemy even finds us.”
Veer muttered under his breath, “If I don’t make it… tell my story. And by story, I mean all the times I almost dated someone.”
Ishaan grinned. “That’ll be the shortest memorial service in history.”
ns216.73.216.33da2
and then Add to home screen.