Chapter 226: Chapter 203 : Two Different Mondays

Monday…

Ralf ran through his usual tasks with a hum and a pep in his step. He was in a good mood - a great mood, and it was all thanks to the events over the past weekend.

It had happened, and far sooner than he expected. Ray, his other self, the ice block himself, had opened up to others, to his friends. Remembering the instances, Ralf’s face collapsed into a jubilant smile.

On Saturday, Ray had joined the group during their usual get-togethers, not from the shadows as he had before, but well and truly joined the group in the festivities. He played, chatted, and consumed as Ralf did, enjoying himself no different than his other self. Lane and the others enjoyed his company as well, so while the group dynamic changed somewhat with his addition, everything remained just as harmonious and joyous. Witnessing this play out, seeing his wish fulfilled, was the highlight of Ralf’s weekend…at least till the next highlight.

The next day, Ray proposed to introduce Yuki and the rest to Hana. Ralf was overjoyed at the proposal; he had long been meaning to introduce them to Hana, just waiting for Ray to come around, so needless to say, he agreed at once. The others did as well; they too were eager to meet the duo’s beloved mother.

The meeting started off awkwardly, with both sides nervous about offending the other in some way. This didn’t last too long though. The duo, mostly Ralf, acted as the perfect bridge for communication between the two sides, and once the conversation started flowing, the initial tension and awkwardness dissipated. Genuine selves set free, Hana and the group traded cordial conversation.

Formal and informal introductions were made and the group and the duo went over the last two weeks of Academy life as well as future plans. It was a splendid forty minutes spent, and from how the conversation had gone, Ralf knew that it wouldn’t be the last such season.

A splendid result which promised future splendour. With Hana’s nod of approval, the group’s cohesion increased that bit more. Now, only one last bridge needed crossing, Silver.

The group hadn’t officially met Silver yet. If asked when such a meeting would take place, Ralf would reply:

In two or three weeks, yeah, that’s about right.

The duo hadn't become Silver even once since doing so on their first day at the Academy. Hana was a happy accident but Ralf didn’t want a repeat. If they fused, the affection Ralf had for Skye and the rest would be forced upon Ray. Ralf didn’t want this. He wanted Ray to develop affection for the group independently and thus, let it play out the hard and long way

Ray had come to like the group, no doubt, but as far as affection and experiences together went, Ray and Ralf’s scales were just too lopsided. Thus, a delay was needed. Ralf believed that a few weeks together would even out the scales. Once the duo’s feelings were more or less the same, they would fuse and the group would be allowed to meet Silver. Until then, fusion was off the table.

***

While Ralf’s morning was merry, another’s was the opposite. On the side of a grassy hill, Anton sat with a sour face, his figure engulfed by a cloud of gloom. He was alone, far removed from others. Hugging his knees, he shivered in the chilly winds and was forced to shut his eyes as a gust carrying dirt swept past him.

‘Fuck…it wasn’t supposed to be like this,’ he thought, his face darkened by bitter thoughts.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this; it was a phrase that became quite comfortable in his head recently.

‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this…at all.’

Rewinding back a few weeks and placing oneself in the prince’s mind, one would find a very different picture of reality than the one he currently found himself in.

Anton had come to the Hunter Academy to make waves. He was a Combat Telepath, a rare psionic, and a prince of one of the three Great Noble Houses. With both identities, he expected to stand out with ease, to be the talk of the Academy and to bathe in the spotlight and have everyone’s, including a certain princess’ attention, focused on him.

He imagined these moments with great frenzy, constructing an entire novel’s worth of scenarios in his head. But reality had proven very different from his fantasies/expectations. Things had immediately gone awry. Hunden’s unofficial introduction test ripped his script to shreds, and everything that followed only further desecrated it. By this point, it was unsavable. The fact ate the prince up inside no different than acid…a familiar acid.

Yes, his current bitterness, anger, hatred and despair were familiar flavours. He had been forced to swallow them for as long as he could remember, all thanks to his older brother, Albert Valois. Anton had lived in his older brother’s shadow his entire life.

Albert was handsome, charismatic and most importantly, extremely powerful. Being a Rank 9 Telekinetic Origin Energy Master at the tender age of twenty-two, Albert already stood at the upper echelon of power and looked to be following in their father's, Liam Valois’ footsteps, in becoming an Ascendant.

With such a brother to be compared to, Anton had always come up short. Even his Combat Telepath identity, which was very rare, while not looked down upon by his family, wasn’t praised or regarded with any importance. It was better than nothing, but nothing special in their eyes.

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Captured in such gazes, Anton desired an escape. His go-to escape involved hedonistic activities, but eventually, he hit a wall. It was around that time when he came to learn about Violet’s move to the Academy. Learning of it, he decided to jump aboard the bandwagon as so many others did. The Hunter Academy was where he believed he could make a fresh start, away from his previous identity, where he could truly shine on his own merit.

But alas, three weeks in and this hadn’t come to pass. The opposite in fact. He was once again forced out of the spotlight. Negative emotions bubbled anew as he thought of the spotlight and the person who occupied it instead of him.

‘Damn it...and damn him!’

Anton seethed as images of Ralf flashed through his head. He loathed the Transmigrator, for Ralf held everything he wanted and more. Anton wanted to be a class leader, wanted to be friends with Violet and the others, and wanted to be the centre of attention and the focus of everyone's envy and admiration.

Anton wasn’t alone in having these feelings of bitterness, envy and anger. Many others felt the same way too, though nowhere near as intensely as the prince. And where others merely wanted these things, Anton felt he deserved them, and that they were actively being taken away from him. With this being the case, he despised Ralf.

‘That mentally deranged clown with his stupid smirking face, I just want to punch it, fuck! What do they even see him anyway? Violet, tsk, that dumb bitch, refuses my offers and yet throws herself at him any chance she gets, what a dirty whore…’

Starting with Ralf, the prince unleashed a curse-filled tirade where he flamed his classmates, the ones he bothered to remember, one by one with venomous insults and remarks. Strange as it may seem, the act was quite cathartic to the prince. Hearing himself one-sidedly crush the mental projections of others, he felt his mood rising from the murky swamp it had plunged into. But as it reached the status of ‘good mood’, he was reminded of why he had come out here in the first place.

He checked his watch. Finding it was time, he shut his eyes and focused inward. It was time for his regularly scheduled communications. For privacy and convenience reasons, he didn’t use the Hunter Academy’s network, but rather a personal one, one that connected him directly to Yeador, to his father.

Taking one last breath, Anton called out to the unique Telepathic signature saved in his Conceptual Memory. Doing so as his father did the same, a telepathic link spanning thousands of kilometres formed between the two in an instant.

After a pause, his father’s voice sounded in his head.

[Anton, what words do you bring today?]

Anton gritted his teeth at the listless voice. The question could easily be labelled rhetorical.

The prince took a moment to collect himself before mirroring his father’s insincerity. Anton had been tasked to report every week to his father about the happenings at the Academy, from notable events to notable people. Noteworthy, his father had instructed him to pay special attention to the duo and their activities.

Anton reported his findings…so nothing at all. His father didn’t chastise him or show any disapproval, though, to the prince, this was far worse.

[I see, still nothing,] the king said flatly. [Then, continue on with your studies, son.]

These words had no affection to them, only cold disregard.

[Yes father, I’ll give it my all,] he said then continued internally, ‘...and make you proud.'

[Very well, let’s speak again another time. Farewell.]

Parting with these words, the connection broke - no, in this case, there wasn’t enough to be called a connection. Anton sat on the hill soaking up this harsh truth as cold winds ravaged his body.

‘Fuck…if only they weren’t here…I would…’

Desperate for warmth, he let anger, jealousy and hatred fuel the flame in his heart.

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