I Killed The Main Characters

Noah walked through the halls of Ravenwood Academy, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors.

The afternoon light filtered in through the tall arched windows, casting golden beams on the students as they hurried past him, engrossed in their own affairs.

Laughter, snippets of conversation, the rustling of books—all of it seemed distant to him.

His mind was elsewhere, lost in the memory of his earlier conversation with Amy.

Her words lingered in his head, intertwining with his thoughts like a shadow that refused to be shaken off.

There was something about the way she had spoken—her calm yet unsettling voice, her steady gaze, and the delicate way she plucked leaves from the small potted plant in front of her as she talked.

It was as though every word she uttered carried a hidden weight, a gravity that he had only begun to grasp.

As Noah replayed the conversation in his mind, Amy's voice echoed, clear and haunting.

"Crimes aren't eradicated, Noah," she had said, her fingers deftly picking a leaf from the plant, holding it delicately before letting it fall to the floor.

"No empire has ever been able to truly rid itself of its criminals.

They're like weeds, sprouting in every corner, no matter how hard you try to pull them out. They survive, adapt, and thrive in the shadows.

And in those shadows, they're controlled—not destroyed."

She paused, her fingers hovering over the plant once more.

"The emperor, any ruler really, knows this. There is no world where you can live without evil. It exists, Noah, in the same way the empire exists. It's part of the order, a necessary evil that must be managed.

That's why the emperor doesn't spend his time trying to cleanse his empire of thieves, murderers, and syndicates. Instead, he allows it to breathe, to exist—under supervision. To regulate it. Control the chaos rather than obliterate it."

Amy had plucked another leaf, slowly twirling it between her fingers, her expression serene.

"The underworld... it's more organized than you might think. It has its leaders, its rules. And as long as it doesn't overstep its bounds, the empire thrives.

Those in power understand this. After all, a ruler can't be everywhere at once. And sometimes, it's easier to let the criminals police themselves."

The way she had spoken, the way her voice had softened just so—it had made Noah feel as though she wasn't just discussing a theoretical empire, but something far more immediate.

Far more personal.

He hadn't said anything then, only nodded, letting her continue.

"And here, at Ravenwood," Amy had continued, her gaze steady on him, "we aren't so different from the empire, are we?

The student council, the professors—they try to maintain order. They issue punishments, enforce rules, create the illusion of control.

But the truth is... there are always things happening beneath the surface. Things they can't see. Can't reach. It's a breeding ground for chaos.

And unless someone steps in to regulate it, it will spiral."

She had leaned forward then, her voice dropping to almost a whisper.

"The cult, the gangs, the crimes you've heard about—they're symptoms, not the disease. They thrive because no one's controlling the undercurrent, Noah. No one's leading in the shadows."

Noah's steps slowed as he remembered how she had looked at him, her blue eyes glinting with a strange intensity.

The way she had plucked another leaf, as if plucking away an unseen threat, and how her voice had deepened, almost predatory.

There had been something about her in that moment—something both sweet and terrifying.

"People think they can stop crime," Amy had said, her tone almost amused.

"But what they don't understand is that you can't eradicate what's already embedded into the foundation of society. You can only take control.

If you catch the leader of the cult, another will rise to take their place.

Unless, of course, you take the seat of power for yourself."

Her fingers had released the last leaf, and it had fluttered to the ground, joining the others in a silent heap.

"We could catch them, Noah. We could dismantle them. But even that won't be enough.

The only way to ensure lasting peace... is to rule the darkness. To pull the strings from the shadows."

There had been a moment of silence then, the air in the room heavy with unspoken implications.

Noah had felt a chill run down his spine, his mind whirling with the weight of her words.

It was as if Amy was suggesting something vile, something that blurred the lines between justice and corruption.

But the way she spoke—so calm, so composed—it was difficult to tell where her intentions truly lay.

Was she merely speaking theoretically? Or was she revealing something deeper, something about herself?

"Even in the shadows, there must be a leader," she had said finally, her voice soft but firm.

"Someone who can control the chaos, regulate the evil. Without a leader, the darkness consumes everything. But with the right hand guiding it, even the underworld can serve a greater purpose."

Noah had remained silent, unsure of how to respond.

The way Amy had spoken, it was almost as if she was hinting at herself.

And yet, her words were cloaked in such ambiguity that it was impossible to fully grasp her intentions.

She had smiled then, sweet and gentle, like the Amy he had always known. But in that moment, there had been a darkness in her eyes—a glint of something sharp, something dangerous.

"Think about it, Noah," she had said before standing and brushing off her hands, as if the conversation had been nothing more than casual banter.

"Sometimes, to maintain peace, you have to embrace the chaos."

As Noah walked through the academy halls now, her words echoed in his mind, unsettling and cryptic.

What had she meant, really? Had she been speaking in hypotheticals, or was there something more to her words?

The way she had plucked those leaves, as if symbolically removing threats one by one, had felt intentional. Calculated.

Noah couldn't shake the feeling that Amy had been offering him a glimpse into a world far darker than he had imagined.

A world where peace was bought not by eliminating evil, but by controlling it. A world where she, perhaps, already held the reins.

The halls bustled with students, but Noah walked in silence, his mind a storm of questions.

*Sigh...

"Looks like Eun-Ji was right..."