Lyric felt a slight tap on her shoulder. Groggily, she peeled open one eye and saw Lilian standing in front of her, hands nervously clasped together, her bottom lip quivering slightly like a wronged puppy.
"What is it?" Lyric asked, her voice low and groggy.
"My card… it got declined. I can't buy lunch." Lilian's voice was quiet and hesitant, as though she hated asking.
Without a word, Lyric reached into her blazer pocket, pulled out two sleek black cards, and tossed them lazily in Lilian's direction. The cards landed with a soft clink on the table beside her. Lyric shut her eyes again like the conversation had never happened.
Lilian beamed, snatched the cards, and ran off with a spring in her step, grateful and excited.
-----
CAFETERIA
The college cafeteria was a masterpiece of modern architecture—spanning two floors with high vaulted ceilings made of glass that let in golden sunlight. Marble floors gleamed beneath thousands of footsteps. Green plants hung from gold-accented balconies, and in the center, a cascading waterfall stretched from the second floor down into a koi pond. Tables were polished mahogany, and there were private lounge booths for VIP students.
Lilian entered and was immediately greeted by two familiar faces waving her over—the same girls from earlier that morning.
She smiled and walked over, sliding into the seat beside them.
"I'm Aria," said the taller of the two, flipping her straight honey-blonde hair.
"And I'm Nova!" said the other girl, a petite brunette with soft eyes and braces.
Just as they began chatting, a sudden hush fell over the room, replaced by rising whispers and gasps.
The doors to the cafeteria swung open, and four incredibly handsome boys walked in as though the world bent to their presence. Their very aura screamed danger, dominance, and unchallenged wealth.
They looked like demi-gods dropped onto Earth.
The one on the far left, Aiden Von Rothschild, had midnight-black hair that fell effortlessly over his stormy eyes, his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. Next to him was Asher Leclair, his chestnut curls and golden skin made him look like a runway model from France—effortless charm oozed from him.
The third boy, Artemis Daichi, with his icy white-blond hair and cool silver eyes, wore a tailored charcoal kimono-style blazer—a nod to his Japanese roots. He radiated silent power.
And finally, in the center, the one who made hearts freeze and pulses rise—Ace Valentino. Dressed in all black, a sleek designer mask covered the lower half of his face, revealing only piercing emerald eyes and jet-black tousled hair. His presence sucked the oxygen from the room.
They were known as A⁴—an elite group of ultra-rich heirs. Each one came from a different empire: finance, technology, royalty, and military intelligence. Together, they ruled the campus from the shadows.
Lilian blinked, stunned. "Who are they?" she whispered.
Aria leaned closer. "Those are them. A⁴. No one crosses them. They're... legends."
"Cruel legends," Nova added. "They once pushed a scholarship student to commit suicide. But they hardly ever come to school, especially not on a Tuesday."
Lilian scoffed inwardly. Cruel? Please. They had no idea who her sister was. Lyric would chew them up and spit out their bones.
As the boys walked past, their footsteps echoed like thunder. But then—suddenly—they stopped. Right in front of Lilian.
Ace, eyes unreadable behind the mask, tilted his head. "What's your name?" His voice was deep, smooth—dangerous.
"Lilian Garcia," she replied, her heart pounding.
"What's your relation to Lyric Cassandra Sandras?"
Her blood turned cold. "Please... don't go near her. Don't ask her questions. Don't provoke her."
Asher smirked. Artemis narrowed his eyes.
"Why?" Artemis asked, his voice calm.
But Lilian remained quiet, clutching her tray tighter.
With unreadable expressions, the boys gave her one final look, then walked away.
Lilian exhaled. Her hands were shaking slightly.
She quickly ordered her food, but before she could run off, Aria and Nova grabbed her arms.
"Relax! They're gone," Nova said, laughing.
Lilian tried to smile, but her stomach was tight with anxiety. If Lyric found out they approached her... what would she do?
------
CLASSROOM
The four boys walked into their private lecture hall—spacious, quiet, elite.
But someone was already sitting in the back row.
A girl.
Her entire frame was dressed in sleek black, a hoodie pulled up and head down. A book open on the desk, earphones in.
Ace led the way, motioning for the others to follow.
They approached her. Artemis knocked on the desk. "Name?"
She didn't answer.
Aiden narrowed his eyes and tapped her shoulder.
She slowly removed her earphones and turned.
Eyes like a frozen lake stared up at them. Emotionless. Unmoving.
"What happened?" she asked, voice cold, detached.
The boys paused, unsettled. Ace stared at her. Something about her was... eerie.
She turned back to her book.
Before anyone could speak again, the classroom door burst open and Lilian ran in. She froze when she saw them gathered around Lyric.
Memories flooded back—blood, screams, the aftermath of Lyric's last "episode."
She rushed forward. "What happened?" she asked Lyric, her voice frantic.
Lyric gave her a single, ice-cold glare. Lilian shrank back without another word.
Then, Lyric's phone rang.
Her pupils dilated slightly as she read the caller ID. The atmosphere around her darkened.
She stood up calmly. "Go home without me," she said to Lilian, her voice flat.
Without another glance, she walked out.
Outside the school, a sleek black Maybach waited.
Lyric descended the steps, her expression unreadable.
She got in without hesitation. Inside were two men: a driver, and a man in a grey suit with an earpiece.
"You must be Dark L," the suited man said.
Lyric stared at him. "Report."
He nodded. "Senator Malcolm Drayce. Murdered. Government wants you to analyze the club's surveillance footage. They want to track down the killer."
Lyric smiled. A cold, twisted smile.
She had killed Malcolm.
They wanted her to find herself?
How stupid.
Her calling card—the signature of her kills—was a heartless corpse. Literally. The heart removed. That's how she was known. Yet they hadn't realized.
She pulled out her phone and made a call. "I'm heading to the Blue House. The...?"
"Vice President," the man supplied.
She nodded. "Vice President."
After a few curt responses, she hung up.
The man in the suit kept staring at her.
A girl? This small?
Could she really be Dark L? The same infamous hacker who breached military satellites and tracked down a war criminal missing for five years?
Unbelievable.
Then she spoke again, eyes still closed.
"If you keep staring, you'll leave this car blind."
The man shivered.
This... was no ordinary girl.
This was a devil in human skin.