Argent Academy was built for gods-in-training.
Liss Hoshino walked through its gates like a memory no one invited.
The gates of Argent rang when she stepped through them.
Not with chimes. Not with spells.
With silence.
A ringing absence that pressed against the air like gravity.
Students turned to look, then looked away—too quickly.
Some blinked as if they'd forgotten what they were doing.
Others whispered a name that wasn't hers.
> "Who was that?"
"I thought she transferred in last year?"
"No, she's… new. Right?"
But Liss had been enrolled for three years.
That was the thing about her.
People didn't remember her until she broke something.
And today, something was about to break.
Her first class of the day was Divine Logic Theory.
She sat near the back, arms crossed, eyes half-closed.
In front of her:
A girl scribbling fury with a frost-bitten quill (Thessaly).
A boy chewing his wand and muttering arcane nonsense (Korrin).
A girl projecting butterflies made of fire from her palms (Naia).
And a silent healer sketching runes in a margin (Elyse), who always smiled when Liss looked her way.
Her four best friends. The only ones who remembered her every time.
Professor Malen lectured from the crystal podium:
"The twelve divine systems must be respected. No anomaly has ever passed the Divine Crucible..."
A girl raised her hand.
"Didn't someone crack the Crucible last year?"
"That was an error in recordkeeping," Malen snapped.
"No student has ever—"
Liss coughed.
The professor paused.
Thessaly turned.
So did Korrin. Naia. Elyse.
Eyes met.
"Miss Hoshino," the professor said stiffly, "you have something to add?"
Liss shrugged.
"I broke it. Last year. You screamed."
The class laughed. The professor didn't.
His eyes burned with too much light.
Too much memory.
"You didn't pass the Crucible," he said.
"You… shattered it."
Liss tilted her head.
"Yeah. That's what I said."
Later that day, the four friends sat on the roof of the old observatory.
Naia threw flame-butterflies into the wind.
Korrin scribbled spellwork onto crackers and fed them to a squirrel.
Elyse braided frost lilies into Liss's black hair.
Thessaly watched her with the quiet intensity of someone memorizing a face they couldn't afford to lose.
"I saw the spell the prof used," Korrin said.
"You should've melted. But you didn't."
"I don't melt," Liss replied.
"You don't bleed either," Thessaly said quietly.
Elyse looked down.
Naia snapped a butterfly.
"You're not human. That's fine. We're not normal either."
"I'm not a god either," Liss said.
"Then what are you?"
Liss didn't answer.
But the sky above them shivered—just once.
And deep inside her ribs, the Lady stirred.