Night had settled over the academy like a heavy curtain.
The snow outside continued falling, slow and silent, covering the grounds in white.
Inside the Volkov estate, the atmosphere was far less peaceful.
The study room lights glowed warm against the dark wooden walls. Maps of territories, documents, and security reports covered the large table in the center.
Five people were gathered there.
Adrian leaned against the desk, arms folded.
Across from him sat his father.
Viktor Volkov.
The man who controlled one of the most powerful criminal empires in Russia.
His silver hair and calm expression made him look more like a politician than a mafia boss, but everyone in the room knew better.
To Viktor's right stood Mikhail Volkov, the eldest brother.
Cold. Precise. Always calculating.
Beside him was Dmitri Volkov, who looked bored but dangerous at the same time.
Near the window, Nikola Volkov scrolled through a tablet, scanning security files.
And sitting casually on the arm of a chair was Yelena Volkov, the only sister — sharp-eyed and impossible to fool.
The room was silent until Viktor finally spoke.
"Morozov."
Just the name was enough to make the atmosphere change.
Mikhail's eyes narrowed.
"That family should be extinct."
Nikola looked up from the tablet.
"Official records say the same."
Yelena tilted her head slightly.
"But our dear Adrian seems to think otherwise."
All eyes turned toward Adrian.
He didn't move.
"I saw him fight," Adrian said calmly.
Dmitri scoffed.
"So? Lots of students fight."
Adrian shook his head slowly.
"No. Not like that."
Viktor watched him carefully.
"What did you see?"
Adrian's voice lowered slightly.
"Morozov combat training."
That made the room fall silent again.
Because the Morozov combat style was something only one family had ever mastered.
A family that had disappeared fifteen years ago.
Viktor stood up slowly.
"Alexei Morozov had one son."
Nikola began typing quickly on the tablet.
"Records say the child died during the attack."
Viktor looked at Adrian.
"Do you believe that?"
Adrian's answer came without hesitation.
"No."
Yelena smiled slightly.
"Well, this is getting interesting."
Dmitri cracked his knuckles.
"So what's the plan?"
Viktor walked toward the window and looked out at the dark city lights.
"If the Morozov heir is alive…"
He turned back slowly.
"…then every enemy we have will want him dead."
Mikhail spoke calmly.
"Or controlled."
Nikola added another thought.
"Or recruited."
Adrian finally straightened.
"Or protected."
That made Viktor look at him more carefully.
"Why would you protect him?"
Adrian didn't answer immediately.
But a memory flashed through his mind.
A night.
Cold air.
A stranger with silver eyes.
The same person now standing in the academy under the name Artyom.
Adrian spoke quietly.
"Because if our enemies find him first…"
His eyes darkened.
"…we won't get a second chance."
At the Academy – Same Night
Artyom sat alone in his dorm room.
The message from the unknown number still lingered in his mind.
His stepmother moving again meant one thing.
The past had finally caught up.
He stood up and walked to the window.
Snow fell quietly over the academy.
Most students were sleeping.
But Artyom had learned something important long ago.
Danger rarely arrived during the day.
It preferred the night.
And right now…
He could feel it coming.
Somewhere in the darkness outside the academy walls—
Someone was watching him.