I created my own system

Chapter: The Emperor's Game

One of the few things that is very tiring to do is nothing.

For a guy who seem to be always running from sometimes, doing nothing was very exhausting. To elevate his feelings somehow, he diverts his attention to something else in order not to think of Nero.

Apollo sat silently in the student council room, fingers lightly tapping against the table. His gaze, cold and observing, swept across the council members as they went about their daily tasks.

He wasn't allowed to act. Not yet, not until he finally gave his command.

The emperor's orders were clear—stand by, observe, and wait.

Even though his instincts screamed at him to move, to pry deeper into the enemy's side, Apollo restrained himself. The emperor must have had a reason for holding them back. Even without the power of the oath, Apollo knows that the emperor is a wise man.

So, he waited.

He watched his surroundings carefully, noting every little shift within the academy. He paid attention to the council members—who weren't acting differently, those who seemed more aware, and most importantly, who were completely clueless about what was happening under their noses. He closely looked at them, and occasionally, he would assist the president with her task, proving himself useful. Celestine was very happy with his assistance since her work went faster than before. However, Apollo was merely helping her out to ease his boredom. If there are things that need to be delivered to the other dorms, Apollo would suggest taking them. And if there is a need for sudden repairs in classrooms that the maintenance team can't work on immediately,, then he would step up.

On the other hand, his classmates are busy training themselves or just keeping someone company. This person is so important that it took the time of the entire lower class students. Only the church and the emperor were able to do that. However, it wasn't really an evil organization like the one Nero is involved with but a person whom the entire lower class wanted to land a hit on the face for making a fool out of them.

As the days passed, murmurs began to spread throughout the student council.

"Has anyone seen the vice president?"

"It's been days… he hasn't shown up for meetings either."

Some were genuinely concerned, while others, like Apollo, simply didn't care.

He already knew the answer.

The vice president's little game—pretending to have information about last year's incident—had only delayed the investigation. But when Apollo discovered that it was merely out of boredom and curiosity, he knew exactly how to deal with him. After making a fool out of him Apollo will never let him go.

A little flashback played in his mind.

The vice president, a sharp-witted and playful individual, feeling bored with his life had always treated life in the academy like a game with all the students as his chess pieces. He was amused by Apollo's class, intrigued by their tenacity, but never took them seriously.

Until they decided to play back at his own game. For the first time, a mere chess piece in his eyes began to play like a player, though the problem is those pawns never even revealed themselves as the chess board flipped.

Before the vice president knew it he was already under the palms of his own plaything.

It started subtly—so subtly that at first, he didn't even notice.

His belongings began to move.

Papers he distinctly remembered leaving on his desk vanished overnight, only to reappear in completely different locations. His chair tilted slightly backward just enough to make him uncomfortable when he sat.

"How odd," he mused, a smirk tugging at his lips.

But he dismissed it as one of the council members playing a harmless prank.

Then, his schedule mysteriously changed.

Meetings were suddenly relocated without his knowledge. Reports he needed to review were filled with nonsensical sentences and cryptic riddles, and his window, which was just fixed, was broken again the next morning.

Still, he remained amused.

"I wonder who's trying to tease me?" he muttered, lazily flipping through a rewritten report.

But by the fourth day, the amusement faded.

The real mind games began.

Aaron and Braiden made sure that every time the vice president entered the student council office, something went wrong.

One morning, as he casually strolled into the room, his entire chair collapsed beneath him.

CRASH.

Laughter and snickering erupted from nearby council members, but he simply stood up, brushed himself off, and grinned.

"Very funny," he said. "I'll remember this."

But it kept happening.

A few hours later, his cup of tea tipped over before he even touched it.

Then, his ink bottle shattered, staining his hands and uniform.

And the final straw?

The moment he walked into the room, every drawer in his desk flung open at once—spilling papers all over the floor.

His eye twitched.

"Okay," he muttered, taking a deep breath. "This is getting irritating."

Even with a patient man like him being continuously hit with all these bad tricks began to consume his rationality

The next day, the vice president began searching for who dared to mess with him, but surprisingly, he could not get anything, even with his power gifted by God. For a man whose confidence came from his strength failing to fun of the people who were playing a prank on him was a serious slap to him

Then came Alicia and Vesta's illusion work.

The vice president had always prided himself on his calm demeanor. But even his iron will began to crack when reality itself started shifting around him. He just couldn't figure out what was happening; these things shouldn't be happening to him. It should be the opposite; he was the one who should be playing, not the one being played.

Frustrated, he decided to take a walk, but then he walked into rooms that suddenly didn't exist.

Doors he had used for years now led to dead ends.

Whispers brushed against his ears—voices calling his name, murmuring secrets that no one else could hear. With that, he even feels like he's going crazy. With no other options, he began praying to god perhaps they could help him, but unfortunately, no reply came in. And instead, his craziness seems to even increase.

In broad daylight, he saw figures in the corners of his vision, shadows moving unnaturally fast.

One night, he turned a corner in the hallway only to come face-to-face with a distorted reflection of himself, grinning back at him with unnatural sharp teeth.

His heartbeat quickened.

"This is an illusion."

But even as he tried to rationalize it, his mind refused to relax.

It wasn't just illusions anymore.

It was doubt.

Paranoia.

And fear slowly crept its way towards his heart.

By the seventh day, the vice president was exhausted.

His once confident attitude was gone, replaced by a deep-seated irritation.

He barely spoke.

His usual confidence had been replaced with subtle hesitation. And oftentimes, he doesn't seem lucid enough to strike up a conversation.

When he sat down in the council office, his fingers tapped nervously against the table.

Apollo, who had been silently observing the entire ordeal, finally made his move.

He walked over, leaned slightly toward the vice president, and whispered:

"You seem tense, Senior."

The vice president froze.

Apollo's golden eyes gleamed mischievously as he continued, his voice barely above a murmur.

"Did you enjoy playing games with us? We certainly enjoyed playing with you."

For the first time since their battle of wits began, the vice president had no retort.

Instead, he simply stood up, grabbed his coat, and left the room without a word.

Back to the Present

Apollo couldn't help but smirk at the memory.

His classmates had been waiting for the chance to mess with the vice president for weeks, and he had finally given them permission. Now, the man had disappeared, most likely hiding away to recover from the psychological torment.

But as much as Apollo enjoyed that little game, his focus quickly shifted back to something else.

Something was changing.

It was subtle. So subtle that no student or teacher had noticed it yet.

But Apollo did.

The air felt different.

Even when there wasn't any kind of tension, Apollo could tell something was happening.@@novelbin@@

The patterns of movement around the academy shifted.

Some hallways seemed… emptier than usual, but somehow, the students didn't find it weird.

Something was coming.

And then—

A thunderous explosion rocked the academy, shaking the very foundations of the building.

A giant cloud of smoke rises to the sky while screams and shouts are heard.

The impact sent students into a panic, professors rushing out of their offices, and alarms blaring through the halls.

But amidst the chaos, Apollo simply smiled.

"It's time, fellas." He stood up, his golden eyes glowing with excitement.

His classmates turned to him, anticipation filling up their faces.

"We are ordered to attack."

With that, Apollo cracked his knuckles, his mischievous grin widening.

Finally, they can give the welcoming gift they should have given a month ago.