Chronicles of Forgotten Extra

Somewhere within the Astralis Academy campus,

on the fourth floor of the first-year dormitory, a blonde girl hurled a glass across the room.

It shattered against the wall, spraying fragments like sparks.

Her room was already a mess, pillows ripped open, clothes scattered, drawers left hanging half-closed.

She was trembling with rage, humiliation and something darker crawling just beneath her skin.

First that bitch, Amyra.

And now that bastard, Alden.

Why couldn't they just—

"Die…"

Her voice was a whisper, but it cracked with venom.

"Just die already."

Her fingers dug into her own arm, nails raking down in trembling strokes—again and again—until the pale skin turned red beneath them.

She didn't stop.

She didn't seem to feel it.

Just then, something shifted in the air behind her.

A figure had appeared in the room silently as if it had always been there.

He wore a plain white mask without an eyehole or mouth. Just a wide, permanent smile carved across its face.

He had no aura, sound or even a flicker of presence.

Seles didn't seem to notice him at first.

Not until he spoke.

"Ahem, excus—"

He didn't get to finish.

In the blink of an eye, the room bloomed with killing intent as dozens of shadow spikes erupting from the walls, the floor and the bedframe.

Every single one stopped an inch from the man's throat, suspended in perfect, lethal stillness.

"Who are you?" Sele's cold voice echoed as she turned toward the man.

Her crimson eyes held no sign of frustration or anger it held a few minutes ago, they were completely cold.

And as she stared at him down, her fingers slipped silently into her pocket.

There, tucked away beneath the fabric, rested a small pendant.

A teleportation artifact.

Something she always kept close.

Just in case.

The man's amused voice echoed again. "I can see why my lord wants your help, Miss. Seles."

She didn't respond or even blink.

One of the shadow spikes snapped forward, driving clean through the man's thigh with a sickening, wet sound.

There was no hesitation or warning.

"Speak."Her voice dropped further—colder than before. "Who are you? And what are you doing here?"

Blood trickled to the floor.

And yet…

The man didn't scream.

Didn't even flinch.

As if pain was beneath him.

Or perhaps—worse—as if it simply didn't register.

"I am but a messenger, Miss. Seles." He said. "My lord wishes to make a deal with you."

Seles's mind sharpened, racing through possibilities.

She had no idea who—or what—this being was.

It didn't emit any mana or aura and yet it felt strong.

The kind of strength that didn't need to announce itself.

And then there was the title: my lord.

Who was this so-called lord?

Still holding her stance, still keeping the pendant in her palm, she narrowed her gaze.

"What kind of deal?" She asked, still cautious.

Her curiosity got the better of her.

If someone had managed to infiltrate the Astralis Academy—her space—undetected…

If they could send a messenger like this…

Then they weren't just strong.

They were influential.

She knew she wouldn't get a name. Not from the messenger.

So instead, she asked the only question she might get an answer to.

"You just have to kill Lucien Celestrian on the last day of inter-academy and my lord shall grant you anything you wish for."

Seles frowned.

Lucien was a prince… and killing him was no less than a treason.

And yet this person was asking her to do that as if he was asking to kill some rat.

Like royalty meant nothing to whoever his lord was.

But she didn't reject it yet.

She was curious what "anything" meant.

"What do you mean by 'anything'?" She asked calmly.

Her voice was steady, but her fingers tightened around the pendant in her pocket.

A safety tether she wasn't yet ready to let go of.

The man chuckled.

A slow, muffled sound behind the smile-shaped mask.

Then he laughed harder—like he couldn't help it. "Hahaha… you speak just like my lord said you would."

The laughter faded but amusement still laced his tone.

"Anything," he repeated. "As in anything. Money. Power. Status. Strength."

A pause.

"Or even…"

His voice dropped, lower now, almost intimate.

"The talent or body of someone else. Their bloodline. Their skills. Their potential."

Seles's eyes trembled.

"How can that be?"

She couldn't believe it.

How could someone take the body or talent of someone?

That sounded too illogical.

But what if it was true…?

What if she could really take over the body of someone else?

Just the thought sent storms of possibilities in her mind.

Faces. Names. Powers. Futures that could belong to her.

If she just reached out and took them.

"Everything is possible, Miss…" The man whispered like a devil. "As long as you fulfill a few requirements."

Her heart skipped.

"What requirements?"

She didn't hesitate.

The man raised a gloved hand and cut her off.

"I'll give you some time to think it over," he said, voice calm.

"I'll return in a day. If you accept…"

"Then I'll tell you what the requirements are and what must be done."

With those words, the man vanished like a mist, leaving Seles alone in the room.

—

Elsewhere…

In a space cloaked in silence and shadow, the masked man reappeared.

He dropped to one knee without hesitation.

Before him stood a figure wreathed in faint strands of mana, eyes unreadable and presence immense.

Jeremy Voidforge.

The air around him seemed heavier like even reality bowed in his presence.

The masked man didn't dare lift his head.

"I've thrown the carrot," he said softly, "Just as you instructed, my lord."

Jeremy didn't say anything and just nodded quietly.

But beneath that calm exterior, his body was breaking down, a consequence of the method he had used to obtain his power.

A cost he had accepted long ago.

But now… the cracks were spreading.

He couldn't afford to wait any longer.

So he had chosen his moment.

The Inter-Academy Tournament.

For a move this delicate, this dangerous, he needed a diversion.

Something explosive.

Someone who would pull every eye away from him at the perfect time.

And Seles…

Seles was perfect.

Not because she was powerful. But because she was loud and unstable.

Poised on the edge of self-destruction.

All Jeremy had to do was give her a little push.

She was not the only diversion he planned but she was just a backup in case things went truly bad.

A disposable pawn.

—

Unbeknownst to Alden a board was set…

A crumbling overlord in a borrowed body.

A girl teetering on the edge, offered damnation disguised as salvation.

A prince too kind to see the knife being sharpened behind the smile.

A boy in the sky, watching clouds and dreaming of flight, unaware of the web tightening around him.

And a cosmic force nudging his fate just enough to make him reach somewhere—a place where his destiny shall diverge.

The Inter-Academy Tournament had always promised spectacle.

But no one—not the students, not the teachers, not the watchers behind their glowing screens—knew what was truly coming.

The sparks had been scattered.

All that remained… was ignition.

—

Author Note:

Jeremy thinks the pieces are moving how he wants. But maybe… the board was tilted, by something unseen, long before he ever made his first move.

Do share your thoughts in comments.