Red-Eyed Youth

"Hey, did you hear? The Light Goddess and Fire Emperor finally attained the Saint Rank after conquering the Rank Eight gate!" A young man leaned closer to his companion, excitement buzzing in his voice.

"Of course I did! Everyone's heard by now. How could I call myself a proud citizen of the Sunless Empire if I didn't know about our Emperor and Empress's incredible feat?" His chest swelled with pride, the mention of the mighty rulers filling him with a sense of importance. 

Not because he was related to them—no, just being under their rule was enough to make him feel privileged. 

"You're right," a third voice chimed in. "This puts the Sunless Empire above the rest. No more being tied with the Greenland Empire. We're on top now, The Sunless Empire is now the most powerful!"

"And it's all thanks to our unstoppable leaders!" the trio declared in unison, their voices full of admiration. 

Those from other different empires could only grind their teeth.

"Hmph! Talk about showing off," someone muttered under their breath.

The hallway went silent. With their heightened senses, every student within earshot picked up on the remark. 

The ability to hear even the faintest sound from meters away was commonplace after awakening, and this particular whisper had carried farther than its owner intended.

Eyes turned toward the offender—a tall figure, covering their head with a hood, walking calmly through the students.

Despite the glare of students from various empires, he moved with an air of indifference, his face hidden beneath the hood. 

Furious whispers spread through the crowd. How dare he belittle the Emperor and Empress's achievement? 

Many wanted to pounce, to defend the honor of their leaders. But no one dared act, at least not openly.

The crime of attacking a non-awakened was severe.

"You'll regret that," someone muttered as the figure disappeared through the academy's main doors.

****

Outside, the hooded youth squinted against the sun's harsh light. He tugged the hood lower, muttering to himself, "I hate the sun almost as much as I hate my apartment... and those self-absorbed students."

He was tempted to pull his hood down far enough to shield his entire face from the sunlight, but even he knew that was ridiculous.

Still, his loathing for the eternal brightness of the empire was palpable.

"Who in their right mind names an empire 'Sunless' when we have the longest summers and barely any winter?" He scoffed at the irony, shaking his head as he descended the academy's grand staircase.

He contemplated rushing back to his apartment but thought better of it. The home was no sanctuary. In fact, he'd rather endure the sun than face the bleak reality of his rental.

"Ugh," he grunted, "I have to go home, change, and go to work; the boss will be furious if I go late!" With no other option, he walked in the direction of his place.

****

"Well, well, look who we have here," a voice sneered as the youth entered the shadowy alley that led toward his apartment.

A group of boys from the academy dropped down from the low rooftops, surrounding him. There were five in total, their smug faces already anticipating the beating they were about to deliver.

"Usual rituals, huh?" The hooded youth stopped, his red eyes glowing faintly as he cast off his hood, revealing a face that, much to their surprise, was breathtakingly handsome. 

Despite the thinness of his frame, there was something regal about him—something that made the bullies pause for just a moment.

The leader of the group, an athletic youth with fiery red hair, crossed his arms.

Seeing him, the handsome red-eyed youth sneered, "I was starting to wonder when you'd show up. So, what is it today? Same routine? It's getting a little boring, don't you think?" The hooded teen asked the leader lazily.

The red-haired youth smirked, his voice soft but dripping with mockery. "Boring for you? That's rich. How is it boring?"

"Imagine how I feel, listening to your dull insults for over a year now." The kid replied.

The group bristled, fists clenched at his audacity. "You learned how to talk back, huh? That's new. At least we won't be bored while beating the crap out of you today," the red-haired leader taunted. "But who gave you permission to speak?"

The hooded youth tilted his head, studying the l-haired leader with a bemused expression. "You're a new face among the usual pack of idiots. Who are you, exactly? I recognize the rest of these losers, but you… You're fresh."

The leader's face tightened, but before he could respond, one of the boys from the back shouted, "Watch your mouth! This is Young Master Louis, heir of the Harkon family!"

The youth chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving Louis. "Ah, thank you. I knew one of you would be dumb enough to answer for him." He gave a mocking bow. "So, 'Young Master Louis,' is it? How charming."

Louis didn't rise to the bait, but his eyes narrowed dangerously. "You've got a sharp tongue for a worthless rat."

"I aim to please," the youth replied smoothly. His red eyes glinted with amusement. "But let's be honest here. What's the point of all this? You're not the first to try beating me down, and you certainly won't be the last. It's almost comical at this point."

"You think you're an invincible punching bag now?" Louis's voice was low, controlled—dangerous. "Because I promise you, today will be different."

The air in the alley grew tense, the gang's eagerness for violence bubbling just beneath the surface. 

The hooded youth met Louis's gaze head-on, unflinching.

"No, I don't think I'm invincible," the youth said, his voice softening. "I just think… you're wasting your time. Now, either throw your punch or move aside. I have better things to do than entertain your fragile ego."

Louis raised a hand, stopping one of his lackeys from lunging forward. His lips curled into a cold smile. 

"Here's the deal, trash. You're going to regret ever speaking to me like that. But I'll give you a chance—one last chance to apologize before we teach you a lesson you'll never forget."

The hooded youth tilted his head slightly, eyes still brimming with mockery. "Apologize? For what? Not groveling at the feet of a pompous heir? Sorry, I left my kneepads at home."

The crowd bristled with anger, but Louis held them back, his patience wearing thin. "You'll regret this," he hissed.

The youth shrugged, his expression unfazed. "Maybe. But not as much as you'll regret underestimating me." But it was all talk for what mattered

"You dare!" Louis shouted, "I order you now, you're going to kneel or take you the starry skies of beatings!"