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To Renounce Nature (Part 2)


Philosopher

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Okay, I'm actually going to continue writing this story, I think I have enough inspiration woo! I changed some stuff from Part 1, so I'm re-uploading it. Part 2 is coming soon :)

Also this story may have some previous elements from my previous series (Beware the Uncorrupted), so if you want to fully understand everything, you can give it a go (though you don't have to in order to enjoy this new series :D

PART 1

The rain relentlessly pelted the forest floor, transforming it into a muddy quagmire. Rivulets of dirty water snaked their way toward the two figures, complicating their task. Above them, the rumbling clouds heralded an approaching thunderstorm of monumental proportions. Though lightning had yet to strike, an air of impending doom hung heavy in the atmosphere.

The two men, their faces obscured by hoods, toiled in silence, their shovels biting into the sodden ground. The larger man's progress was far more efficient than his companion's, as he focused on the task at hand.

One of the men grunted, barely audible over the sounds of their shovels. "Are we going to talk about it?"

The larger man sighed, his concentration unbroken. "There is nothing to say. Just focus on the job. We don't have much time left," he replied, checking his wrist to confirm the dwindling minutes.

The first man groaned in protest but begrudgingly picked up the pace. "I know we need to finish before midnight, but couldn't we have chosen an easier location? The university stadium would have been perfect, especially since it's not football season," he complained.

The larger man ignored the complaint, his focus unwavering. He shouldered the weight of the bag they had brought and approached the hole they had dug. The putrid odor wafted from the bag, but the first man's question fell on deaf ears.

Silence greeted him, and he pondered the mystery alone. "Right, this is beyond nasty."

With a forceful grunt, the larger man dropped the bag into the hole, splashing dirty water over the edges. He grabbed the shovel and began burying the contents beneath a layer of dirt. Midnight approached, and he desired to complete the task swiftly.

The first man fell silent, contemplating the weight of his thoughts. Slowly, he approached his companion, clutching an object he had picked up from the ground. Without uttering a word, he dropped the charred remains of a human arm into the pit. The limb, burned to the likeness of coal, blended seamlessly with the mud.

The larger man glanced at him, a look of acknowledgment passing between them. "That was a close call, Oliver," he whispered, resuming his shoveling. "Come on, I don't want to be late for my date tonight."

Oliver remained silent, his actions conveying the weight of his thoughts. He had taken on the responsibility of disposing the grotesque evidence, fully aware of the consequences should anyone discover what they had hidden in the forest.

***

A blinding bolt of lightning sliced across the sky, illuminating the room with a brief, intense flash. Sunny awoke, drenched in a cold sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. Nightmares haunted his slumber, and this one felt all too real. Gasping for breath, he glanced around the room as it flickered to life, momentarily brightened by the sudden surge of light.

"Sunny?! Are you okay?" Felix, his roommate, rushed to their side, concern etched on his face. He had grown accustomed to these midnight awakenings, a testament to his patience and understanding.

Sunny tried to steady his breathing, attempting to dismiss the remnants of the dream that clung to his thoughts. "I'm fine now. Gosh, you must be tired of me waking you up like this every other week," he whispered, a sheepish smile forming on his lips.

Felix, ever the companion, dismissed his self-deprecating remark. "Don't worry about it. What did you see this time?" he inquired, perching himself on the floor before him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

His cheeks flushed slightly, though he hoped the dim lighting concealed his embarrassment. Felix possessed a certain attractiveness—a blend of cuteness and charm that consistently drew others to him. Sunny admired him from afar but didn't dare share his feelings, as was usual with his many previous crushes. "I can't quite recall the details of the nightmare. I think I was drowning, but not in water," he struggled to grasp at fading fragments, the dreams dissipating like mist.

"Yeesh, talk about nightmare fuel," Felix remarked, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. Sunny rolled their eyes, dismissing his pun. "Anyway, I'm going back to bed. Big day tomorrow! The boys and I are heading to a local bar. We found a guy who makes excellent fake IDs, and I can get you one if you want to join us," he offered, slipping back into bed as sleep swiftly claimed him. "Aren't your parents, like, some of the original founders of the university? I'm sure you can afford to come out for a night of fun," he mumbled, drifting into the realm of dreams.

Sunny chose not to respond to his assumptions. Instead, he focused on finding his way back to sleep, knowing that the nightmares would likely grant him respite for at least another week.

***

In comparison to the intellectual prodigies who populated the university, Belmont University, Sunny hardly stood out as the most studious individual. Nestled amidst an ancient and sacred forest, Belmont University fostered future innovators, influencers, and academics of unparalleled success. Its hallowed halls had witnessed the rise of influential figures, even boasting a former president among its alumni.

With an acceptance rate of a mere 0.5%, admission to Belmont proved a grueling endeavor, involving multiple rounds of interviews and extensive essays. There were two paths to traverse this arduous process: tireless dedication to academic pursuits or a legacy connection.

Sunny fell into the latter category, a fact that Felix, albeait unconsciously, never hesitated to remind him of. Though he didn't utter his thoughts with malicious intent, his demeanor sometimes suggested he viewed Sunny as undeserving of the opportunities that fell into his lap. Perhaps undestandably so, as while he had fought tooth and nail to secure his place in this prestigious institution, Sunny had his parents to pave the way.

Sunny loathed discussing his family, as his father and mother resembled ancient beasts demanding perfection from their offspring, particularly from Sunny. Echoes of his mother's piercing screams and the fear his father's wrath invoked haunted every shared space of this university. To Felix, Sunny was merely a fortunate heir, shielded from the struggles he faced. Sunny may not have agreed with his opinions, but he had learned to dismiss them, as long as Felix left him to his own devices.

Now, on a path leading deeper into campus, Belmont Library—a modern marvel of titanium, glass, and stone—loomed before him. Crafted by a renowned alumnus architect, the library resembled a monolithic structure, housing a myriad of books that spanned subjects from quantum physics to the intricacies of mummification. Despite vehement protests against its construction within the ancient forest, the library had emerged five years prior. Sunny couldn't help but feel a strange sense of embarassment whenever he laid eyes upon it, knowing that his family's generous contribution had aided in its realization. Furthermore, his father's "donations" had undoubtedly played a part in securing Sunny's admission to Belmont, an advantage Felix often called attention to. Come to think of it, Felix could sometimes be a bit of an ass, but Sunny's brain cared more about seeing his roommate half-naked most of the time.

Passing through the titanium-encrusted doors, a rush of cold air greeted him, causing his blond locks to fall into his eyes. The length of his hair exceeded his comfort level, but his mother insisted on its growth, convinced it added a touch of uniqueness to their appearance. He couldn't fully grasp her reasoning, but he also knew the consequences of defying her desires. Seeking a quick remedy, he hurried to the nearest restroom, determined to tame the unruly strands.

"Watch where you're going!" a girl's voice exclaimed as Sunny navigated the bustling corridors. He turned their attention to the source of the outburst—a young woman struggling to maintain balance while juggling a tower of books. "Damn neophytes, always messing up my research," she grumbled under her breath, annoyance etching her features.

Apologizing sheepishly, Sunny maneuvered past her, eager to reach the bathroom. Belmont attracted a diverse array of individuals, many of whom fell into the realms of geekery or outcast status. The girl's peculiar manner of speech and almost Victorian mannerisms only solidified her place within this eclectic community.

Inside the bathroom, the sterile white tiles did little to hide the exhaustion etched on Sunny's face. The persistent nightmares had taken their toll, and the sleepless nights left him with perpetually tired eyes. Splashing water onto his face, he attempted to salvage some semblance of presentability. Though not conventionally attractive, he liked to think he possessed a certain charm—bright blond hair framing his blue eyes and dimples gracing their cheeks. His nose felt too prominent, but a smile could easily distract from its flaws. Years of enduring braces had resulted in decent lips and teeth, at least. Yet, despite his best efforts, the dark circles under his eyes stubbornly remained, a stark testament to his restless nights. Admitting defeat, he abandoned the quest for perfection, opting instead to fix his hair into a messy bun that somewhat tamed the wild strands.

Lost in his thoughts, Sunny failed to notice the entrance of another individual into the restroom. Only when he heard slow, deliberate footsteps approaching did he redirect his gaze, curiosity getting the better of him.

And then, time seemed to freeze.

The man before them stood tall, towering over Sunny's own height. Clad in a plain denim jacket, he exuded an air of dominance, if that made sense. When he spoke, his voice carried a deep resonance that resonated within him, soft and yet tinged with a hint of danger.

"Water isn't going to fix your hair, mate," he remarked, his eyes locked with theirs.

Sunny froze, his hand instinctively reaching for the hair tie that held their half-formed bun. Meeting the guy's gaze, Sunny felt a mixture of dread and inexplicable, infuriating stillness. His mind urged him to retreat, but before he could react, words tumbled out of Sunny's mouth. "Excuse you? Who the hell asked for your opinion, idiot?" he retorted, his voice laced with a defiance he didn't know he possessed.

And then, realization washed over him, followed by a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Oh no.

It was Trevor Willis.

The Trevor Willis—infamous for "The Incident." A figure both feared and revered on campus, Trevor possessed an unruly nature that defied control. Smart, strong, and in desperate need of anger management counselling, he was a tornado that neither the faculty nor the coaches simply could control and guide. He was banned from almost every school extracurricular due to his violent behaviors, but rumors said that the football coach begged the Dean himself to not expel him and to let him in the football team, as he was “the best quarterback he had ever seen in his life”.

It was true, to some extent. Trevor was a big dude. Six and a half feet of pure brawn, he had trampled countless football players in his earlier high school days, with injuries ranging from hideous bruises to broken arms. The worst part of the whole package was that he thrived being the bigger guy in almost every circumstance. He would use his size to either intimidate you, if you were a guy, or submit to him, if you were a girl, with a near guaranteed success rate. If you were not intimidated by his sheer size, then he would simply flex his muscles, making them nearly pop out of his clothes, and that would usually seal the deal. Everyone was either amazed or terrified of him, and both worked if he wanted something out of you.

In other words, Sunny was fucked. “Who the FUCK did you just call an idiot?” he suddenly closed to him and grabbed his t-shirt, before ramming him to the wall. Sunny was not small by any means, having been a decent runner and putting some lean muslce on his 5'11 frame over the course of high-school. He definitely wasn’t muscular, but toned, which worked for him.

Apparently, it didn’t for Trevor.

“Fucking useless preppy scum. I would beat your worthless ass if I didn’t have to deal with more important things,” he seethed as Sunny felt bits of saliva hit his face. His brain quickly went into fight or flight mode. Sunny subconsciously knew that Trevor would beat him in a pulp if he dared to land the first punch, so instead he cowered away, choosing to say nothing. His eyes tried not to follow the lines of his angular jaw, the curve of his cheekbones, the shape of his plump lips.

He fucking hated his brain.

Trevor too, had stopped for a second, seemingly observing him. Perhaps he was considering whether he would send him to the local clinic or not. He must have decided otherwise, as another incident in his file would surely be the drop that broke the Deans’ back. “Grow a damn pair and stay in your lane, got it?” Trevor growled as he released Sunny, making him fall down and slide down the bathroom marble. As soon as he left the bathroom, the adrenaline coursing Sunny's veins left too, and he felt tears well in his eyes. He clenched his fists so hard that he saw them turn white.

Sunny hated him.

He hated all of this.

Painful self-flagellation consumed him as he berated himself for his own cowardice, his own lack of strength. "Idiot, idiot, IDIOT!" he shouted at his reflection, slapping his cheeks in a desperate attempt to regain control.

Suddenly, a loud crash shattered the bathroom's silence, drawing his attention to a shattered mirror. Fragments of glass cascaded into the sink, reflecting the flickering fluorescent lights above.

What?

They searched for the culprit, for the one responsible for the shattered mirror, but the bathroom remained devoid of any presence. Only the hum of the lights reached their ears.

And still, the shards continued to fall.

With a jolt, Sunny fled the bathroom, eager to escape the disorienting scene. Tears no longer stained his face, but the soreness in his cheeks lingered, a reminder of his own inadequacy.

To his surprise, a girl stood just outside the bathroom, her arms laden with books. Braces adorned her grin, and she greeted Sunny with a knowing smile. "There you are," she said, her voice tinged with a mischievous tone as Sunny attempted to sidestep her.

Yet, as their shoulders brushed, a surge of vertigo swept over Sunny, as if his very being was somehow unraveling. The world spun, its rotations halting abruptly, leaving him reeling.

Silence enveloped him, and he fought against the dizziness, striving to remain motionless. Recalling fragments of first aid classes from high school, Sunny knew that movement was ill-advised for a potential stroke victim. Desperate, he hoped someone nearby would notice his distress and offer assistance before it was too late.

"You're in luck, neophyte. If you weren't legacy, I'm not sure you would make it into our secret little club," the girl appeared beside them, her robes whispering against the rough surface of the cave they now occupied. Confusion clouded his mind as he tried to comprehend his surroundings. Dim torchlight flickered, revealing jagged stone walls that stretched into an abyss. The scent of dampness permeated the air, as if Sunny had descended into the depths of the earth. The girl's thick-lensed glasses obscured her face, her forced smile hinting at hidden intentions.

“H-help me please,” Sunny begged her. “I need to go to a hospital. C-can you call 911?” he trembled, his voice breaking from the sheer stress he was experiencing.

“Jeez, neophyte. It was a simple translocation spell. I didn’t vaporize you out of existence or anything,” the girl responded, now sounding oddly amused. “Though now that you mention it, I could catch up to some disintegration stuff. Offensives are really fun to use,” her voice somehow dropped an octave, and Sunny confirmed that indeed, he was experiencing severe auditory hallucinations.

Behind her, a taller figure materialized, his presence commanding attention. "Melissa, please refrain from bullying our newest candidate, or I'll assign you cleaning duty once more," he chided, causing the girl—Melissa—to scuttle away.

"Of course, sir. My apologies, Sunny. I was merely testing your mettle. I wanted to ascertain your worth," Melissa offered, her robes trailing behind her as she retreated.

Left alone with the masked man, Sunny watched as he sighed and snapped his fingers.

Sunny's mind struggled to comprehend the strange events unfolding before him. Melissa simply vanished from his field of vision, leaving him bewildered and nauseous. A sense of unease settled deep within him as he stared into the darkness of the cave, his stomach churning with a mixture of fear and confusion.

In front of him now stood the man, clad in formal clothes, like he was interviewing someone in a company. His face was concealed behind a plain mask made of golden material, his eyes the only visible feature, glowing even in the dim light. A surge of questions flooded Sunny's mind, and his trembling voice gave way to his mounting apprehension.

"Am I dying? What the fuck is going on?" he managed to utter, his words faltering as he struggled to breathe.

The masked man's laughter echoed through the cave, an unexpectedly soothing sound that calmed Sunny's racing heart. It seemed to reassure him, as if assuring him that he was not in immediate danger.

"It isn't your time yet, Sunny," the man's voice resonated with warmth and amusement. "I simply used the same spell Melissa used on you, translocating our lovely pupil from the initiation cave to the temple. She can be quite overwhelming for new recruits, and I thought it best to discuss matters privately."

Sunny couldn't help but chuckle, his skepticism reemerging in the face of what he perceived as an elaborate prank. He stepped closer to the masked man, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. If this was a trick, he was determined to expose it.

"Right! Next, you're going to tell me that you're a wizard and that this is my invitation to join your magical school to fight against dark lords," he exclaimed, his voice laced with sarcasm. As he reached out to grab the golden mask, he expected it to come off easily, revealing the face of a fellow prankster.

To his astonishment, the man dissipated into smoke, leaving Sunny grasping at thin air. He stared at his own empty hands, the particles of gray gas dissipating around him. Confusion clouded his mind as he attempted to rationalize the inexplicable.

Suddenly, a firm hand gripped Sunny's shoulder, its presence both terrifying and commanding. A voice, calm yet seething with restrained fury, resounded from behind him. "Now, now. Let's make two things clear," it intoned. The grip tightened, digging into Sunny's skin, and a surge of pain shot through him. "Firstly, I am only gentle with you because you have only just begun to fathom the powers at play here."

The masked man's words reached Sunny's ears, but they seemed distant, muffled by an unseen force. He struggled to maintain his focus as the weight of his situation bore down upon him.

"Secondly," the voice continued, its tone fraught with a combination of menace and dark intrigue, "I really didn't want another pupil for my Institute. We are over-subscribed as it is. Consider this a favor I am returning to your... guarantor."

With a snap of the man's fingers, Sunny found himself collapsing to the ground, his body rendered completely paralyzed. The words that followed seemed to echo from afar, their meaning veiled by a haze of disorientation. "Soon, you will understand just how fortunate you are, Sunny. It's time to show you just how lucky you are for being a legacy, and the access you have to reality-altering powers... if you allow us to guide you."

A peculiar sensation overwhelmed Sunny, causing him to lose consciousness. The masked man's laughter reverberated through his fading awareness, the promise of an intriguing yet uncertain fate lingering in the air.

"Yes, dear Sunny," the man's laughter echoed ominously. "It's time for us to renounce your nature."

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  • 1 year later...

Still picking up steam...

PART  2

He was having a nightmare again. This time, it was vivid. A memory, twisted by something incomprehensible.

His father. Gabriel.

Sunny could see him reach the top floor of the dormitories. Where the bigger rooms had been built, with their own restrooms and kitchens. The boarding school maintained the illusion of conformity, but these rooms were enough to satisfy the likes of his father, who wanted more for his son.

Who wanted everything of his son.

Sunny had made sure to tidy his room, which was potentially points for him, all things considered.

When his father stormed in, he went straight to his desk, and picked up a trigonometry textbook.  “You have barely cracked the spine.  Have you been doing your reading like your private tutors told you?”

“Yes, of course,” Sunny lied, his eyes going momentarily to the open door.

“Don’t lie. That is the least efficient way to dodge my ire,” his father growled, with barely constrained anger.

The open door was now filled with a small crown of other students, with a teacher unsuccessfully trying to shoo them off. Some of the students were smirking, but when they glanced at Gabriel, who met their eyes with his own icy blue ones and lost the smirks.  They ran off, their shoes slapping against the floor.

Gabriel Belmont continued to pick up other textbooks and Sunny’s notes.  He rifled through them, checking the pages before discarding them.  He threw some onto the bed, while others hit the floor.

“What am I looking for, Sunny?” Gabriel stated.

“I don’t know,” Sunny whispered. He could feel cold sweat up his neck, slowly dripping down his shoulders.

“Are you sure about that?” the response was intense, the anger now leaking out of his father.  “Think very, very hard, son.”

“I promise to you, I really don’t know.”

His father stared at him.

“YOU don’t even try.  I told you to think, and you took thirty seconds to come with that pitiful excuse.  Is that the effort you’re putting into your schoolwork?”

“I try. I am trying so hard, I study.  I put myself in a study group for maths.”

“No more excuses.”

Sunny closed his mouth instantly.

In a sudden motion, his father bent down, grabbing the wastebin from beside the desk, and unceremoniously  upended it over the bed. Several pieces of paper, wrappers, crumbs, and tissues fell over the top of the books. Half-eaten apples and orange juice rolled out, ruining the textbooks and soaking into the covers.

Sunny clenched his fists. They turned white.

“Orange juice is filled with sugar, son. Clearly not good for your brain. I forbid you from drinking anything other than water until you’re back where I want you to be.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now, organise this.”

“Organise?”

Gabriel grabbed his son by the shoulder, then thrust him toward the drenched bed.  He landed over it, hands amid the tissues, papers and books, his shoulder landing on the wall in an awkward way. He barely managed to not shout in pain.  “ORGANISE.  Turn the papers over.  I won’t get my hands dirty.  If the answers aren’t in the books, then clearly the answer lies in the trash.”

Gabriel pushed the stuff aside, clearing it.  He turned papers over, picked up tissues and tried to put them back to the bin. His father picked the plastic container though,  and threw it at the wall, breaking it in half.  Other contents and half eaten food fell out again.  “I said. Organise,” he said, his voice trembling with anger.

Sunny resumed the sorting, his eyes burning with tears yet to come.

“I expect you to be in the top ten students at this school, Sunny.  You weren’t even in the top fifty. I am looking for the reason.  Is it in this room?  Is it the school?  If it is, we will go to the principal and call him insufficient.  Will you?”

Sunny sobbed, but the sound came wrong. “It’s not them. All the students here, they are extremely competitive.”

“Then you will compete, and you will WIN.  Do you know the reason?”

Sunny sobbed again. He couldn’t hide it anymore.

“Stop crying like a toddler. What is the answer, son? Is it your study group?”

“They are the top ten students.  My competition.”

“Look at me, boy.”

Sunny looked up at his father for what felt like the first time since he dropped him off in this accursed school.  Gabriel Belmont’s face was thick and angular, high cheeks and sharp jawline. His jaw seemed to somehow extend way more than it should have, and not in an attractive way.  His eyes were icy blue, and as he looked into Sunny, there was nothing but cold in them.

“I require a clear answer here.  Something that can be remedied.  Otherwise, it means that my only son is… deficient, giving his all to win and not even come close to the winning line.”

Sunny couldn’t speak. Wouldn’t speak.

“You are twelve years old now. There is no more room for failure. Are you the idiot of the school, Sunny?”

Sunny looked at the door again, where the principal now stood, a respectful distance away, but not daring to approach him or his father.

“I ask you again. Is it the school? The principal? Is he too lenient?”

“No, sir.  The principal teaches basic calculus, including integration, differentiation…”

“I know what calculus is. That still leaves us the question of what the answer is, son. Do you understand how serious I am? If you are truly an idiot, then should you come home at all?  Would you rather be free of the Belmont name instead?”

Sunny’s mouth opened and closed again. He was feeling dizzy, faint. He could barely see straight, reeling with it.

“Think, boy. I still need to visit your sister, and I don’t have all day. I am running out of patience, and I expect an answer. You will be telling me the reason of this failure, or I will take you out to buy a suit, tonight.  Something fancy.”

Fancy?  He didn’t understand what his father meant.

“Something very fancy indeed. Fancy funereal clothes for your sister and mother, while we will be out,” Gabriel whistled, opening the closet, and picking his way through clothes. He started dumping stuff in the bed again, clean white button-up shirts and black jackets. More notebooks stacked behind some clothes. More mess.

Sunny suddenly understood what his father was implying.  Being free of the Belmont name meant death. 

In that moment, he wasn’t surprised. His fathers words made more sense than the freedom he didn’t know he was yearning for. Sunny found the lump in his throat growing tighter. He didn’t dare to speak. If he started crying, then he may as well have signed his own will at this point.

He begged the universe for something, anything.

Indeed, there was something.

He saw as his father as he went through the hidden notebooks, opening to reveal Sunny’s most prized drawings. He had spent countless hours into filling those books with the beautiful scenery that surrounded the school.

“What a relief,” his father smiled.  He threw the drawings face down on the bed, soaking the dribbles and stains, pressing them down hard to make sure they were irreparable.  “You’ve been drawing.”

“Yes sir.”

“Alright. No more of that, then. Clearly, these are holding you back.”

“Of course, sir.”

“I have spoken to the principal. There are five hundred students in all, and ten top spots. Are you even capable of acquiring the tenth spot?”

Sunny wouldn’t answer, as the answer was no, and that wasn’t an answer his father would allow.

“Are you even capable?!” his father suddenly screamed at him, his face bending down, inches away from him.

The loud words rang in his head.

“Alas, we found the source of your failures, I believe. I am very disappointed, but at least we won’t need to go shopping for a suit,” his father nodded at that after a few seconds passed. He then bent down and smoothed Sunny’s blond hair down, the hand coming to rest on his son’s cheek.  He bent down, kissing on the crown of the head, the hand remaining where it was as Sunny was guided out from the room.

He left, as quickly as he arrived. The principal quickly met Sunny at the corridor. Nobody else was here.

“Sunny.”

It took him a few seconds to realize he was being spoken to. The principal was looking down at him. His eyes were way warmer than his father’s.

“Yes sir?”

“Clean that room as fast as possible, lest you want your father to come back.”

“Yes sir.”

“Sunny?” the principal asked him again, moments before he entered the room.

“Yes, sir?”

Are you even capable?

No answer came through.

***

Sunny's mind was awash with fragmented images and surreal scenes as slowly, he regained consciousness. He stood in the dimly lit room, but his brain and body were both still disoriented, as if he had stepped into another realm, caught between reality and dream.

Snap.

Suddenly, as if someone had lifted a veil from his consciousness, Sunny's eyes snapped open, and he found himself lying in the centre of a big circle. The smell of mould was permeating everything around him, and he could tell he was somewhere underground.

He scrambled to his feet, his heart still racing from the intensity of the nightmare. His father’s expression still lingered within him, making him feel nauseous. "What... What just happened?" Sunny stammered, looking around at the man with the golden mask and Melisa, who were still present in the room. Them, and another dozen or so people, wearing robes. They all looked at him, expressions ranging from mild annoyance to slight curiosity.

The man regarded him with an enigmatic smile, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. "We have glimpsed the past, a core memory of our fellow future Pupil," he replied in a voice that seemed to resonate with power. "It is the echo of a journey,  perhaps a metaphysical representation of the crossroads where your choices will lead you. A powerful sign nevertheless. You would do a fine Augur, Sunny."

Melisa stepped forward; smugness etched on her face. “Professor Alistair is well known for his Augury. You better believe what he’s saying, mister legacy.”

Sunny rubbed his temples, trying to make sense of the experience. "It felt so real," he whispered, his voice still trembling. "My father. I had almost- and he was pushing me to excel in my studies-“

Another guy, who had been observing quietly from the side, stepped forward. "Visions and dreams are not uncommon in this place," he said, his tone gentle. He was tall and wiry, wearing glasses so thick that they looked almost fake. "The Institute has a way of connecting with the past, the present, and even glimpses of the future. It's part of the magic that permeates these walls."

Sunny looked at him, still feeling a bit disoriented. "So, it wasn't just a dream?"

"No, it was a memory," the guy explained. "The Institute has a way of bringing forth memories that are buried deep within you, memories that hold significance to your journey here. It's a way of understanding yourself and your path."

As Sunny tried to process the revelation, the man with the golden mask, ‘Alistair’ approached him, his presence still imposing yet strangely comforting. "Yes. Your father. Your guarantor if you may. The most important figure in your life, his influence still shaping your choices," he said. "But now, it is your turn to make your own destiny, to carve your path in this world of art."

Sunny looked up at Professor Alistair, uncertainty still lingering in his eyes. "I’m not going crazy then? I am still half-convinced that you drugged me. But this feels.. real, somehow? Like, I can feel a buzz under my skin, an energy if that makes sense."

The golden man placed a reassuring hand on Sunny's shoulder. "Power has a way of making you feel… excited, yes. It’s a very good thing that Melissa managed to snatch you when she did. Being a legacy of this Institute, you have a way of attracting Power without even meaning to.  Somehow, your father seems to believe in your potential, and so we will have to be with you every step of the way,” Alistair sneered at the last sentence. It was very obvious to Sunny that this man didn’t really care about him. His father being part of this deranged group of individuals did fit the bill though. He wouldn’t be surprised if his family was part of this doomsday cult.

The kind guy from before nodded, a warm smile crossing his lips, causing his glasses to wobble. "You are not alone in this, Sunny. We all have our fears and doubts, but the Institute offers a way out. Relatively speaking, of course.”

Sunny took a deep breath. The majority of his mind was telling him to go along with the charade, and perhaps those people would leave him alone. Clearly, all of them needed mental health specialists. Or a psychiatric asylum.

A tiny part of him, however, it was oddly believing what they were saying. Not because of any logical reasoning, but it was true, he could feel something odd about this place. It reminded him of the feeling of being watched, but not in a bad way.

Regardless, his answer was simple.

"I want to know more," Sunny said, his voice steady. "I want to understand this place, this 'magic'."

Alistair’s eyes glinted with approval. "Then let us begin," and with a second snap, the entire room was showered in light. Sunny looked down to see that he was standing in the middle of a circle, intricate symbols and drawings decorating the outer regions.

Shit, am I about to be sacrificed?

“Melissa dear, do you mind giving the usual speech? Without all the drama, please.”

Melissa appeared again in front of the crowd, careful not to enter the circle where Sunny had been dragged to.

Melissa’s voice carried a sense of weariness, having lost her previous notes of superiority, as she began to explain the nature of the Institute and its operations.

"The Institute operates out of what was once a cult," she began, her eyes glancing towards the dusty shelves that lined the room. "This cult had stumbled upon an artifact, giving them the Power needed to conduct certain rituals. Dark rituals of destiny, trying to summon creatures not meant to walk thos earth. Of course, without proper training and knowledge, the magic backfired. A few days later, investigators from another Institute managed to hide the remains of the cultists and salvage the fragments of their books and remnants of their magic, including the artifact, using its Power to create a new Institute.”

She gestured towards the surroundings—the long corridors, the libraries filled with ancient tomes, the dedicated ritual space, and the sleeping quarters. "We have created a space where knowledge is our most potent weapon. Most of the time, Pupils stay here for the evening to learn and practice but return to their student accommodations for classes."

Sunny absorbed the information, his mind swirling with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Melissa continued; her voice tinged with some caution. "At the Institute, we offer knowledge in various fields to help you navigate the complexities of magic and the supernatural. We have divisions dedicated to different aspects."

She listed them one by one, each revealing a new facet of the Institute's teachings. "We have departments specializing in dealing with Fiends, from the spectral to the demonic. You'll learn how to confront and neutralize these magical creatures that can pose a threat to the lives of others."

"Then there's the department of Tools, where we teach the creation and utilization of enhanced items imbued with Power. These items can produce a range of magical effects, granting you an edge in your endeavours."

Her voice turned darker as she spoke about the third department. "We also delve into the magics of combat and harm, called Insults. It's a dangerous path, but a necessary one when dealing with those who wield magic for nefarious purposes. I am particularly fond of the disintegration spells," she winked at him. Professor Alistairs' eyes glowed from within the mask, urging her to continue.

A touch of excitement entered her tone as Melissa mentioned augury. "Augury is the art of divining the future. But be warned, the more accurate you want to see the future, the more Nature will try to screw you over."

She continued; her words weighted with significance. "The Natural Laws is another crucial aspect of our teachings. It involves delving into the source of all magic in the universe, understanding its intricacies and how Promises operate. You'll gain insight into the Power over time that Promises grant, but also explore the grave consequences of breaking them. A very theoretical subject, but important nevetheless."

Lila's gaze met Sunny’s; her expression filled with an emotion he couldn’t really capture. "And there's self-enhancement. This path allows you to enhance your physical and mental attributes and abilities, but it comes at a price. You'll have to pay with power or make… sacrifices to reach new heights."

She paused, giving Sunny a moment to absorb the weight of the knowledge. "These are just a few of the branches within the Institute. We offer a wealth of resources and knowledge to help you navigate the complexities of the magical world. If you agree to our conditions, that is.”

Sunny's mind spun with the possibilities that laid before him. Those people, they actually believed what they were saying?

Perhaps this was real… after all?

“Which leads us to our conditions for taking you under our wing,” Alistair took over, waving Melissa away, who was glad to join the other pupils next to her. “Our first condition is that you will assist me, and by extension the Institute, into curbing any form of wild magic found within the mortal realms, specifically within our state. You will be given extensive knowledge, and in return we expect you to use it, protecting the Institute’s interests.”

“What do you mean, your interests?” Sunny asked, doubt beginning to turn its ugly head within his mind.

“Magic is finite, Sunny. It can do many things, incredible things, but it’s a resource, nevertheless. Power, the ability to influence reality itself, it needs to be found and contained, both in order to protect innocents from it, but to also continue our work here. When magic phenomena happen to the mortal world, it will be one of your duties to keep track of them and expunge them, if necessary, bringing Power back to the institute. That is essentially, your job. My job. Everyone’s job. Your services will no longer be necessary after you graduate from this university, of course, and you will be free to conduct your own research in magic.”

Sunny nodded, not sure what Alistair was saying exactly, but keen to get this entire fiasco over with.

"The second and final condition doesn’t stem from the Institute. Instead, it is a foundational promise, forged between yourself and the universe. This Promise is not to be taken lightly," the man continued, his voice tinged with a hint of cynicism. "It is a sacred agreement, a conduit of Power that flows between you and Nature itself. By making the Promise, you gain access to our Power, but it comes at a cost, as all things do."

"Nature itself will turn against you if you break your Promise," Alistair's words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their implications. "It will inflict upon you a torment that is designed to break you, to strip away every semblance of your being. It will build you up with false hope, only to shatter you again and again, until there is nothing left."

A shiver ran down Sunny's spine. Yet, his mind whirled with conflicting emotions. The allure of magic warred with the nightmarish fate that awaited him if he ever strayed from the path he was about to embark on.

Who would say no? Besides, this could all be a scam still.

He cast a glance around the room, taking in the expressions of the other pupils. Interestingly, he seemed to have their full attention now. Odd;y, the tallest figure in the group seemed to stare at him, an odd smile on his face, his eyes hidden by the hood he was wearing.

“Nature demands truth. So, by opening the doors to magic, you mustn’t tell a lie ever again.”

That’s it?

Alistair seemed to read his mind, as he continued. “No lies. Not even white lies. If your girlfriend asks you if she’s pretty in that dress and she’s not, you must tell her that. If someone asks you if you’re busy and you lie, you’re done. Speak the Truth or find a way to answer the question truthfully. I can’t express how serious I am right now. Telling a single lie, no matter how tiny, will literally be the end of you, Sunny. Imagine that. Constant, personalised torture, a cycle of pain and shattered hope—never ending. Nature will keep you alive, just so the torture can continue. Death will not touch you, for that would mean the punishment would end. ”

Silence reigned. Sunny felt like he was meant to say something.

This is fake. It must be.

But what if it’s not?

He wanted this.

He wanted this, even though it didn’t make sense.

He had always felt like an outsider, yearning for something more, and this was a chance, however small, to perhaps fill this inexplicable void in his heart. To finally find an answer, to finally be good at something, to finally escape the clutches of his family, somehow.

And at the very least, this could all be fake. He didn’t really have anything to lose now, did he?

With a heavy sigh, Sunny steeled himself and met Alistair’s gaze. "I... I understand the consequences," he said, his voice betraying a mix of fear and determination. "If this is what it takes to be free, then I accept the Promise."

Alistair nodded. "Then it is done. The Promise will forever be both a burden and a gift, a constant reminder of the path you chose."

As Sunny's acceptance settled upon him, a sense of gravity filled the room. The weight of his last words pressed upon his shoulders. He could actually feel something pressing on his bones, an invisible hand grabbing and squeezing his insides.

Then, it was gone.

In the midst of that solemn moment, Alistair stepped forward. He held out a small object, a flashlight adorned with intricate symbols.

"This is a gift," his voice carried a hint of reverence. "Specifically crafted based on your future, from what I saw with augury. With this flashlight, you will be able to see the flows of Power in the world. I only hope that it will guide you where Nature wants you to go."

Sunny reached out and accepted the magical item, his fingers brushing against the cool metal. Alistair came closer, whispering in his ear. “Your father is pleased, Sunny. This is another one of his many gifts he was given you. Though, in my opinion, you should use it sparingly.”

He froze.

Alistair smiled.

Sunny understood. Truly, there was no escape from his family after all.

“We welcome you, Pupil of the Institute and Legacy of Gabriel Belmont. Furthermore, in order to help you acclimate yourself with our operations, I must elect a temporary buddy-system with one of our more senior members,” Alistair turned towards the mass of students just a few feet away from them. He slowly scanned each and every one of them, before pointing to the tallest figure in the group. “You. Trevor.”

Sunny couldn’t believe it when Trevor fucking’ Willis barged through the crowd, his face partially hidden under the hood. He could feel the distain emanating from the man, and the way he looked at Sunny made his feelings entirely clear.

“Boss. Please, not again. I can’t stand having another neophyte follow me around like a lost puppy. Especially a legacy. You know I have my own projects to follow through,” he grumbled, not even bothering to look at Sunny.

“Do I look like I care, Trevor?” Alistair looked up at the man, clearly not used to being second-guessed. “Deal with it. Now, if that’s everything, I officially conclude this matter,” he said, clapping his hands.

Then, he was gone.

Trevor looked down at Sunny. “Fuck me. Your father is Gabriel Belmont? No wonder you wormed your way here,” he sneered, before pointing at a long corridor. “First door to the right. Library. Knock yourself out,” he said, pushing Sunny away with his body as he started walking away. It took Sunny everything to not trip down the floor.

He could only look as Trevor disappeared on the opposite side of this underground facility, dissapearing into another corridor. The rest of the group quickly left as well, until he was alone.

What the fuck did he sign himself up for?

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