They Betrayed Me So I Summoned The Leviathan

"… What do you mean I'm going to die? How do you know my name?"

The space was pink. No end insight.

A living heartbeat. Shadows swirled, drawn to a single, shifting core

.

Not a person. Not a face. Just a sphere, dark inside, ringed with the color of old wounds.

"What do you mean, Katsu?"

"That's not what you called me."

"Right. I called you Micah. Because that's your fucking name. Don't piss me off."

"That's my old name. I've been Katsu almost as long as I was Micah… Micah died in—"

"An atomic bomb explosion? Yes, I know. Hell was full that day. Your best friend, Quintin, said hey. He's a demon now, by the way. Hell is hot. You get used to it. Some don't."

Katsu didn't move. He tried to will the dream away, but the world just tightened around him.

Hot, heavy, pressing in.

His skin prickled, though he didn't feel cold or heat.

"Why are you here?" he said. His voice sounded distant, not his own.

The sphere shivered, like it was laughing.

"You're the only one who can free me. You don't have a choice. If you don't, you'll die here. Your soul will burn out and dissolve, just like last time. Only slower."

"I don't believe you."

"You don't have to. Just listen."

The shadows sharpened.

The pink haze deepening.

Lines that made no sense but felt familiar.

"You want to live? Say the words. You'll remember the them when you need it. The markings will come to you. You were born with them, buried under your new skin."

He tried to look away. Couldn't.

"Free me," She whispered.

Her voice seductive. A hand, not there, touched the side of this face.

Rubbed his body as it wanted, as it needed,

"And I'll make sure no one ever cages you again."

He didn't answer. His throat felt raw.

"You… never told me your name."

"My name? Some call me Envy. You will call me The Leviathan."

He woke in darkness.

A bunk creaked above him.

Cold air prickled his face.

Someone muttered in their sleep, another snored, another whimpered.

Katsu sat up, knuckles white on the edge of his blanket.

The dream stuck to him, thick as sweat. The words bounced around in hid head. The symbols hovered just out of sight, waiting.

He stood. His legs shook as he crossed to the tiny window.

Outside, the sky was empty.

Just the faintest hint of blue fighting through black.

He pressed his forehead to the glass. It ached, grounding him.

Dawn.

A bell rang somewhere below.

Students began to move, the room filling with the shuffle of feet, the thud of boots on stone.

He dressed quickly, silent, pushing the dream away.

By the time he reached the courtyard, the sky had cracked open, pale gold spilling across towers and frozen flagstones.

First-years gathered in clusters, wrapped in cloaks, voices sharp and nervous.

Some looked bored, some looked terrified. A few, the richest, wore their family crests. Katsu pulled his hood up, keeping to the edge.

He recognized none of them.

Nobody here would know his name.

Unless they heard it to the grapevine.

Not that he wanted them to.

They talked about Houses, about magic, about what they'd heard the selection would be.

Most of it was wrong.

Parlor tricks and fairy stories, old bravado.

He listened anyway, taking in what mattered: who looked afraid, who tried to hide it, who was already forming a pack.

A heavy door opened with a grind.

A woman in slate robes stepped out, her eyes hard and cold.

"Line up."

They did. No one spoke.

Inside, the air changed.

The stone room was circular, lit by five lanterns. At the center was a basin filled with water, black as ink.

Five banners hung overhead.

Velthra. Silver on black, the mirror that cuts.

Soryuun. Frost upon glass, the silence unbroken.

Kavaleth. Chains of gilded stone, the vault unbreached.

Eltaraine. Scarlet veil, the flame denied.

Dravantiir. Iron brand, the storm bound.

A man stood at a lectern now. Worn robes? Golden.

"You will be called one by one. Step forward. Place your hand in the basin. Do not speak unless addressed. Do not lie. The Houses see what they choose."

Students went in turn.

For some, the water sparked or rippled. For others, nothing happened at all.

A girl burst into tears and had to be led away. Another boy stood shaking for minutes before the banner of Kavaleth lit up above him.

Each House seemed to pick with a will of its own. Sometimes quickly, sometimes with long, silent judgment.

Katsu kept to the back.

He watched. He counted heartbeats.

"Nori, Katsu."

He stepped forward.

He felt every stare, even the ones pretending not to notice him.

His hand hovered over the basin.

The water looked bottomless, black as space.

He pressed his palm down.

Everything dropped away.

Not darkness.

Snow. Blinding, endless, swallowing sound. He stood in the old yard.

His father's house burned in the distance. The world was empty except for flames and smoke.

He tried to move, but his feet were frozen in place. The snow climbed his legs, cold and alive.

Ahead, a figure burned.

Too bright to look at. It spoke with his father's voice. "You promised me."

Katsu opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

"You promised you'd never use it. Not in front of them."

He tried to run, but the snow grabbed his knees.

He felt the urge to speak it.

To speak the Leviathan's incantation.

It boiled under his tongue.

His chest hurt—tight with cold and panic. Blood filled his mouth.

Memory stabbed through him.

His father's voice, the promise he made, the snow kept rising.

It buried his fingers first, then crawled up his arms, packing into his sleeves. It reached his ribs.

His throat. His mouth.

He clenched his jaw shut. Held still.

He clenched his teeth.

Didn't speak. Didn't move. He let the cold swallow him. A crack split the world. He was back in the chamber.

The basin steamed. His hand shook as he pulled it free. Water clung to his skin, burning and freezing all at once.

Silence filled the hall.

No banner moved. The man at the lectern looked at him, waiting.

A few students laughed under their breath. One smirked, nudging his friend.

Then the Velthra banner split down the center with a ripping sound.

Silver and black light poured out, crawling across the ceiling.

A voice, ancient and sharp as iron.

"Katsu Nori."

It wasn't a person. It was the House itself. Everyone stopped moving.

No House had ever spoken aloud in living memory.

The man at the lectern dropped his slate.

He looked at Katsu, eyes wide.

"…Velthra claims you...Next."

Katsu stepped back, every muscle buzzing.

The crowd parted as he passed.

Some stared in awe, some in suspicion, some in open jealousy.

Outside, students gathered in groups, huddled for warmth and gossip. He kept to the edge, walking slow, letting the cold wake him up.

Whispers followed—he felt them crawl up his back.

"That's the one Velthra spoke for—"

"Never seen that happen—"

"He didn't even cast anything. Did he cheat? Who is he?"

He kept moving, ignoring them. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the slip of paper there. Names.

Incantations. Warnings.

He went straight to his assigned dorm—far end of the North Wing, coldest room on the floor.

The walls were bare stone.

The single window looked out over the back towers and the white sweep of forest beyond.

He sat on the bed, back to the wall, knees up.Pulled the paper out.

Read the names again.

Kairos. Virenth. And now, below, the symbols from his dream froze into memory, impossible to forget.

The Leviathan's voice echoed again, quieter, almost gentle. "You're not special because of what you did. You're special because you didn't."

He closed his eyes.

Listened to the wind, to the distant bell, to the hush of students in the hall outside.

He wasn't sure what he was now.

Katsu. Micah. Disciple. Nobody.

The name Velthra hung above him like a blade. He tried to sleep.

The words from the void sat.

He hadn't freed her.

Not yet.

But she was waiting.

And now, so was he.