Emery’s POV
The cold breeze whipped across my face as I stood on the Academy’s balcony, staring blankly at the courtyard below. My mind was racing, filled with everything I was trying to keep together. So much was happening behind the scenes, things no one else knew. I had to make decisions no one else could make. The Black Elite didn’t bend for anyone, and that included me. 
I took a deep breath, trying to push everything down. I couldn’t afford to show weakness, not now. Not ever. The Academy had rules, and breaking them wasn’t an option, except I had been doing exactly that. It wasn’t just about protecting Finn, Lucas, and Nathalie. It was about something bigger, something none of them could even imagine.
Just as I was losing myself in those thoughts, the sound of footsteps echoed behind me. My body tensed instinctively. No, it couldn’t be.
I turned, half-expecting to see Xioron standing there with that smug look on his face like before. But I stopped myself. No, he wasn’t here. He couldn’t be—Xioron was still locked in the Aurorium Colroom, confined to that cold, dark place where he couldn’t stir up trouble. For now, at least. 
I shook my head, trying to focus. It felt strange, not having him out here, taunting me with his riddles and half-truths. But the relief didn’t last long. His words from before still echoed in my mind. "You can’t protect them forever, Emery. Choices have consequences." 
I hated that he was right. 
I couldn’t protect Finn, Lucas, or Nathalie forever. Sooner or later, they were going to find out the truth about the Academy, about everything. But I couldn’t let that happen. Not now, when everything was hanging by a thread.
My thoughts drifted back to the files. Abigail was closer to the truth than anyone realized. If she kept digging, if she found out what Lucas had sent her, it would all unravel. The Academy wasn’t just some school, it was something more... something I already knew dangerous.
The sound of the door creaking behind me pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned, my heart skipping a beat, but it was only Lucas. His face was serious, his eyes locked on mine. He had been asking too many questions lately, questions I wasn’t ready to answer. 
"We need to talk," he said, closing the door behind him. He didn’t sit, didn’t move closer. He just stood there, waiting.
I crossed my arms, trying to keep my expression neutral. "What is it?" 
Lucas wasn’t the type to beat around the bush. He got straight to the point. "I know you’ve been keeping things from us, Emery. You can’t hide it anymore."
My pulse quickened, but I didn’t let it show. "I’m not hiding anything." 
Lucas took a step forward, frustration flashing across his face. "Don’t lie to me. Something’s happening, and it’s bigger than whatever happened with Finn and Nathalie earlier. I’m not stupid."
He wasn’t stupid. I knew that. But I couldn’t let him get too close to the truth. Not yet.
"You need to stop digging," I said, my voice firmer than I intended. "There are things you don’t understand, Lucas."
He narrowed his eyes at me, his jaw clenched. "That’s the problem. You never let anyone understand. You’re shutting us out, and it’s going to get someone hurt!"
His words hit harder than I expected. I was shutting them out.... because I had to. If Lucas, if any of them, got too close, they’d be in danger. But I couldn’t tell him that.
"Leave it alone," I said, turning my back to him, staring out at the courtyard again. "For your own good."
For a long moment, Lucas didn’t say anything. The silence between us felt thick, heavy with everything unsaid. I could feel his frustration, the way he wanted to keep pushing, but he didn’t. Finally, he sighed, stepping back.
"I won’t stop," he said, his voice quiet but determined. "You know that, right? I’m not going to let you push me away."
I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. "I know."
With that, Lucas left, the door closing softly behind him.
I let out a long breath, my hands shaking slightly as I gripped the railing. I wasn’t used to this. To feeling… vulnerable. I was always in control, always one step ahead. But now, it felt like everything was slipping through my fingers.
I pulled out the note Abigail had sent earlier, reading it over again. She didn’t realize how dangerous the files were, how close she was to uncovering everything. The Academy’s secrets weren’t meant for people like her. Not yet.
I shoved the note back into my pocket, my mind racing. Time was running out. I couldn’t let Xioron get out, couldn’t let him start spreading more chaos. And I couldn’t let Lucas or Abigail figure out what was really happening.
But the more I tried to control things, the more they slipped away. 
The Academy was crumbling, and I was the only one who could stop it.
I stepped back inside, the cold breeze from the balcony still brushing against my skin, but I shook it off. There was no room for distractions, not now. The Midnight Scavenger event had caused a shift, one I had to fix before it spiraled out of control. The dim light of my office wasn’t enough to chase away the shadows creeping into my mind, but I didn’t need light. I needed results.  
I sat down at my desk, staring at the papers scattered across the surface. Reports from the event, changes in ranks, Elites who lost their positions, and those who climbed higher than expected. The names blurred together for a moment, but I forced myself to focus.  
Some of the most powerful Elites had slipped from their ranks, victims of their own arrogance or the cunning of their rivals. It wasn’t my concern. They knew the risks. Still, the consequences of those losses rippled through the academy, and I needed to ensure the balance didn’t tip too far.  
I scanned through the numbers, watching how the percentages shifted. The Red and Blue Elites were losing ground, while the Black Elites remained steady. But even within the Black Elites, there were cracks. The Midnight Scavenger event had exposed more than just weaknesses in rank, it had exposed weaknesses in control.  
My control.  
I leaned back in my chair, the weight of it all pressing down on me. Control was everything my father taught me. It was the foundation of this academy, the foundation of my life. Lose control, and everything crumbles. That was the rule.  
But no matter how much I tried to focus on the present, my mind kept drifting back, pulling me into a memory I hadn’t thought about in years.  
———Flashback———  
The sound of rain tapping against the window used to calm me, but that day, it felt heavy. I was sitting in my father’s study, my legs swinging off the edge of the chair. I couldn’t have been more than twelve. My father was pacing in front of me, his face serious like always.  
“Emery,” he said, stopping to look at me. “You need to understand why we do what we do. It’s not just for power. It’s for something greater than that. Something personal.”  
I didn’t understand then, but I nodded, trying to soak in his words. I looked around the room, trying to make sense of it all. The academy, the Elites, the rankings—none of it made sense to a twelve-year-old.  
That was when I saw it.  
On his desk, buried under stacks of papers and reports, was a photograph. I had seen many photos in my father’s study, most of them of people I didn’t know. But this one was different.  
It was old, the edges yellowed and worn, as if it had been handled a thousand times. In the photo, my father stood next to a woman in a wheelchair.
I remember leaning in closer, my curiosity piqued. The woman in the wheelchair had a soft, tired smile on her face. I’d never seen her before, yet there was something about her that seemed familiar. Something that tugged at my chest. My father, though much younger in the photo, looked… different. Happier, maybe. But there was a sadness too, like a weight hanging over him that I didn’t understand.
“Who is she?” I asked, my voice small.
My father’s eyes flicked to the photo, and for a brief second, his expression softened, something I had rarely seen. “That’s your mother.”
I blinked. My mother. The woman I had no memory of, the one who was never spoken about. I felt a thousand questions bubble up inside me, but I knew better than to ask. My father never talked about her, and now I understood why. 
The academy, the rules, the rankings, the endless pursuit of perfection, it wasn’t just about the students. It was for her. My father had built this place because of my mother. 
I didn’t understand it all then, but I could feel it. The weight of it. The way everything revolved around her, even though she wasn’t here.
Before I could ask anything more, my father grabbed the photo and slipped it into a drawer, locking it away like it was too painful to see. His voice grew cold again, distant. “Focus on your studies, Emery. There are things you’re not ready to know.”
That was not the last time he ever mentioned her. And the last time I saw that photo.
7 years ago when everything make sense.
I remembered the conversation like it had happened yesterday. Four years ago, my father, had gathered both me and Noah, my older brother, in his office. The air had been thick with anticipation, and I could feel the importance of the moment.
My father’s voice was steady but filled with a rare emotion. "Everything we've been working on, everything you’ve both trained for, is not just for the academy, Emery. It's not for you either. It’s for her."
I had felt a sharp pang in my chest as my father gestured toward the photo on his desk, the same one of my mother in the wheelchair.
Noah had been silent, his jaw clenched, as he absorbed their father's words. I, though young, had understood the gravity of what my father was saying. The Aurorium Academy, all of its intricate structures, its rules, its elites, it wasn’t for the glory of the Aurorium name. It was for my mother, a woman who had been out of the public eye for years, but whose presence still lingered in every corner of the academy.
"One day," my father had said, "when your mother returns, everything we've built will make her proud."
My heart had ached at the thought. The academy wasn’t just some grand project—it was father’s way of holding on to hope, to the belief that their mother would one day come back to us, to him. And when she did, it would be a testament to the love and determination our family had poured into this place.
———End Flashback———
I shook myself from the memory, blinking away the emotions and tears. I knew this wasn’t just about me anymore. It never had been. Father had passed the torch to me and Noah, entrusting us to carry out his vision. And even though Noah was no longer at the academy as often, I knew they were both still working toward the same goal.
My fingers tightened around the edge of my desk as I stood up, looking out the window. The moonlight poured into the room, casting shadows across the walls. I closed my eyes, letting the cool breeze calm my racing mind.
This wasn’t just about ranks, about who held the most power or influence within the academy. It was about fulfilling my father's dream... and my mother's legacy.
I snapped back to the present, the weight of the memory pressing down on me. My chest tightened as I stared at the reports on my desk, but all I could see was that old, faded photograph.
No one else knew. The students, the Elites—they wouldn’t understand. They saw my father as this untouchable figure, the man who built the academy from the ground up. They didn’t know the truth, the reason behind it all. 
And they didn’t need to know. Not yet.
I pushed the memory aside, refocusing on the files in front of me. There were decisions to be made, strategies to be formed. The academy was shifting, and I had to make sure I stayed one step ahead. Always in control.
The time for answers would come, but not today. The academy’s future was still unfolding, and I had no intention of letting anything—or anyone—stand in her way.
But as I stared at the numbers, the rankings, the names of the students who had risen and fallen, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was starting to lose control.