Arthur sat slumped in his chair at the back of Realm Theory class, his mind drifting far from the professor's monotonous lecture. The classroom felt smaller than ever before. Looking around, he noted the numerous empty seats—stark reminders of classmates who had already formed their Cores and departed. Only a handful remained now: himself, Caral, Aziel, and perhaps three or four others whose names Arthur had never bothered to learn.
When he occasionally tuned back into the lecture, Arthur could tell the professor was merely recycling information they'd already long sense covered.
"—which is why the tethering process requires absolute mental clarity," Professor Wexler droned on, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. "Any questions before we conclude today's session?"
Silence hung in the air. What questions remained? They were all living on borrowed time now. In days—perhaps hours for some—they would be thrust into the Realms, likely never to return.
The bell chimed, its melodic tone contrasting with the somber mood of the classroom.
"May fortune favor you all in the Realms." Was the professor's final message to the class today.
Arthur shoved his untouched notebook into his bag. 'Fortune. Right. As if luck had much to do with survival out there.'
The hallway outside buzzed with the chatter of newer students making Arthur feel nostalgic.
His phone vibrated with a notification: Combat Training - CANCELED
No surprise there. Ms. Anne had been canceling combat classes regularly for us now that we're so close to Core formation. "No sense risking injury before your journey," she'd explained, though Arthur suspected she simply couldn't bear watching more students train for battles they would likely lose.
…
The cafeteria hummed with life, packed with students from all years. Every table filled to capacity with laughing, arguing, living people. Every table except one.
Arthur sat alone at his usual spot, picking at a meal he couldn't taste. The empty chair across from him seemed to mock him. Just two days ago Luke sat there, but now the chair sat empty collecting dust.
Arthur stabbed at his pasta, his appetite nonexistent. In a few weeks, a new student would claim his table. In a few months, the teachers would struggle to recall his face. Soon he would blend in to the records of the academy as just another name, another statistic.
They'll forget me, he thought, pushing his tray away. Everyone will forget me.
He stood abruptly, gathering his belongings. Survival 101 was next—his final class of the day and possibly the last one he'd ever attend.
Three steps from the cafeteria exit, pain lanced through his chest—sharp, burning, like molten metal poured directly onto his heart. Arthur stumbled, one hand clutching the door frame as the other pressed against his sternum. His vision blurred, darkening at the edges.
Not now, he thought desperately. Not here.
The pain hadn't been this intense since before Alicia had given him those pills.
If the pain was breaking through the medication this badly, it could only mean one thing.
Arthur forced himself to breathe through it, counting slowly as the agony pulsed in waves. When it finally subsided enough for him to stand straight, he didn't rush to Survival class as planned. Instead, he turned toward a different direction…toward the Tethering Chambers.
His footsteps echoed in the empty corridor as he walked, taking in the Academy grounds one final time. The gardens where they'd practiced meditation techniques. The training fields, the dormitory windows reflecting the afternoon sun.
All of it soon to be memories, if he survived long enough to have them.
The Tethering Building loomed ahead—a stark, white structure deliberately built away from the main campus. As he approached, Arthur noticed a solitary figure standing before the entrance, staring up at the building with unreadable eyes.
Cara stood motionless, her long dark hair swaying slightly in the breeze.
Arthur slowed his pace, coming to stand beside her. Neither acknowledged the other immediately, both fixated on the doors that would lead to their new existence.
"You nervous?" Arthur finally asked, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears.
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Just as he'd decided she wouldn't answer, her voice cut through the quiet—sharp and cold as winter steel.
"No."
Arthur didn't look at her, but a weary smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "How?"
More silence fell before she spoke again. "Because I can't be."
Those four words contained volumes—determination, fear, resignation, and something else Arthur couldn't name. Before he could respond, Cara stepped forward, pushing through the doors without a backward glance.
Arthur released a soft, humorless chuckle. Only Cara would face even this with unflinching resolve.
…
The Tethering Chamber resembled nothing so much as a padded cell from an old psychiatric hospital—white cushioned walls, floor, and ceiling. No furniture, no windows, no distractions. Nothing to focus on but the process about to begin.
Arthur stood in the doorway momentarily before making his way to the center of the room. He lowered himself to the floor, lying flat on his back, staring up at the featureless ceiling.
His thoughts drifted to his parents—their faces, their voices, the warm smiles, the great huggs they gave, the great food they made.
…Their sacrifice.
The pain returned suddenly, exponentially worse than before. It ripped through his chest and radiated outward, consuming every nerve ending. His body arched involuntarily, mouth open in a silent scream as tears streamed down his temples.
Yet even as the agony threatened to tear him apart from the inside, Arthur didn't cry out. He wouldn't give the monitoring systems the satisfaction of recording his weakness.
As darkness began to close in and his physical form started to waver. Arthur whispered his final words to the empty room:
"Sorry mom, sorry dad. But your sacrifice will probably be in vain."
Then he was gone, leaving behind only empty air where his body had been.
And somewhere in the adjacent chamber, Cara Lenning disappeared as well, beginning her own journey into the unknown. And soon Aziel and the rest would follow.
The Academy would continue. New students would fill empty seats. And the Realms would claim what they always did.