The air in the cafeteria seemed to thicken, a slow, heavy pressure that settled in everyone's chest. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students had died completely, replaced by a low, humming silence. Even those who had no idea what was going on instinctively stayed quiet, their eyes flicking between Andromeda and Khael as though they were waiting for a verdict.

Andromeda's eyes narrowed, still fixed in that steady, unblinking way of his. Junjun sat at his side, hackles barely raised, tail stiff not growling, but alert, like a soldier waiting for orders.

Kaen's voice cut through the tension, sharper now.

"What is it!!"

Khael glanced briefly at Kaen, then back at Andromeda. He could see the weight behind Ban's words, the way he was choosing them carefully — like each syllable was a blade he wasn't sure if he wanted to draw yet.

Andromeda didn't look away.

"It's not something you just blurt out over lunch… but that guy—Matthew Lomwel—" He paused, scanning the room, almost expecting Lomwel to be lurking in some corner.

"—there's something rotting inside him. The kind you can't heal with medicine or training."

Khael's eyes flickered slightly.

(Rotting… that word… he means the Void.)

Ceyla, who had been cradling the dog gently in her arms this whole time, frowned, her voice low but trembling with a mix of anger and unease.

"What do you mean… 'rotting'? Is it like… a curse?"

Andromeda shook his head slowly.

"No. Worse. A curse is… external. This is internal. Deep. Like his Shinrei's already cracking."

Saya tilted her head, confusion written across her face.

"Shinrei? You mean like… the energy thingy"

Shigeo, still slouched in his seat, finally lifted his gaze to meet hers. His tone was calm, but there was a faint edge of interest.

"It's more than just energy. It's the core of what you are."

Kaen clenched his fists.

"Stop with the vague crap. Just say it."

Khael's lips pressed together.

(He's not wrong… but if Ban says it now, it might change how everyone sees Matthew… and maybe even how they act toward him. This is dangerous knowledge.)

Andromeda exhaled through his nose, like he'd been holding it in.

"Fine. I think Matthew Lomwel is showing signs of becoming… Voidborn."

The word dropped like a stone into still water. A few students at nearby tables stiffened, some whispering under their breath, others exchanging uneasy glances.

Ceyla blinked.

"Voidborn…? You mean those… monsters?"

Kaen scoffed, but his tone carried no humor.

"Don't mess with me. You're saying that pompous bastard's gonna turn into one of them?"

Andromeda met his gaze, steady.

"If nothing stops it… yes."

Saya's mouth fell open a little.

"B-but… he's human! He's an elite student here! How—"

Shigeo interrupted quietly.

"Elite or not, anyone can break."

Khael felt his pulse quicken.

(The manga never said anything about this… was Matthew's death the result of turning Voidborn? Or… was it because Ban killed him before he could?)

Ceyla's grip tightened protectively around the dog, her knuckles pale.

"If he's already that far gone… why isn't the academy doing anything?"

Andromeda's expression hardened.

"Because they don't see it. Or they don't want to."

Kaen slammed a fist lightly onto the table, making some plates rattle.

"Then we do something. We're not just gonna let that smug bastard walk around until he—"

"Kaen." Khael's voice was firm, cutting through his outburst. The two locked eyes for a moment. Khael's was calm, Kaen's brimming with impulsive fire.

Khael leaned back slightly, his voice low but carrying to the whole group.

"If this is true, then rushing in will do nothing but push him faster over the edge."

Kaen gritted his teeth.

"So what? We just… let it happen?"

Shigeo spoke again, still in that deceptively lazy tone.

"No. You watch. You wait. And when the time comes, you strike where it matters most."

Saya frowned.

"That sounds… really cold."

Shigeo didn't look at her.

"It's survival."

Khael's thoughts twisted again.

(Ban's right… the Void eats you from inside. If Matthew's already showing signs… then the question isn't if he falls, it's when.)

Andromeda finally broke eye contact with Khael, glancing at the dog in Ceyla's arms. His voice softened, though it carried a strange undercurrent of sorrow.

"She'll be safe here, right?"

Ceyla nodded without hesitation.

"She won't be abandoned again."

Andromeda gave a short nod, then returned his gaze to Khael.

"If you see him acting… off… tell me. Don't let pride or pity get in the way."

Kaen looked between them.

"Pride? Pity? The guy's a jerk, we—"

"Kaen." Khael's tone was sharper now, silencing him mid-sentence.

The silence that followed was thick enough to taste. Rael, halfway to the door, paused for just a fraction of a second before leaving without another word.

Khael leaned his chin into his hand, deep in thought.

(If Ban's already picked up on the Void… then Matthew's change could happen sooner than it did in the manga. Which means… events are shifting. And if they're shifting, my knowledge might not be enough anymore.)

Saya broke the quiet with a small, uncertain laugh, clearly trying to ease the tension.

"Wow… lunch got really intense, huh?"

No one answered.

…..

Across the room, a pair of unseen eyes watched from the upper balcony — Professor Lok,

still hidden in the shadows of the staircase. His gaze lingered on Matthew's retreating figure from earlier.

(A Voidborn seed in a Lomwel heir… and none of the other teachers have noticed. Perfect. Just perfect.)

His lips curled into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

(I'll water that seed myself… and watch it bloom.)

….

After Hour…

Matthew, scion of the infamous Lomwel family sat in the dim study, the flicker of the fireplace casting jagged shadows across his sharp features. His hands rested on the armrests of the chair, fingers curling and uncurling like claws that wanted to tear into something. The quiet tick of the antique clock on the wall was the only sound in the room, yet to him it was deafening.

His jaw was tight, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"How dare they…" he muttered under his breath, voice low and venomous.

"How dare they do this to me… How dare they look at me like that… like my father."

The word father tasted bitter, like rust on his tongue.

His mind, unbidden, pulled him back into a memory he thought he had buried, a night lit only by the cold silver of the moon through the tall windows of the family estate. The air had been heavy with the scent of old paper and aged wine. His father stood across the room, looming, the weight of his presence filling every inch of space.

"Matthew… if you can't prove yourself worthy of the Lomwel name… then you are nothing to us."

The older man's voice was like steel dragged across stone slow, grinding, merciless.

"After all, a useless person is no different from a useless dog."

The words had been a chain around Matthew's neck ever since. He remembered the way his father's eyes cold, pale, and pitiless never blinked, never softened. As if he was speaking not to a son, but to something that had already failed him.

Matthew's chest tightened. His breath came slow, but every inhale felt like it scraped against his ribs. He stared into the fire, but in the shifting flames, he saw those same eyes, those same words, branding themselves into his mind all over again.

"I will prove it to them," he thought, the tremor in his fingers hardening into a steady grip on the chair.

"I will prove it to everyone…"

To be continue