Александр Логвинов – Academy of Lies. Episode 1: Welcome to the Academy of Lies (страница 3)

Leontiev rose, taking the hint. There were more questions than answers, but pressing for them now was pointless. The rector clearly preferred to watch how his guest behaved in uncertainty.

“Thank you again, Arkady Viktorovich,” said Alexander politely. “I appreciate your trust and hope to live up to it.”

“I’m sure you’ll adapt quickly. The Academy is a special place. Everything soon falls into place here. Good night, Professor.”The rector shook his hand once more. His gaze lingered a second too long, sharp as a blade.

“Good night,” Leontiev replied.

The door creaked open. Sokolov appeared, waiting in the hallway. As Alexander stepped out, he could almost feelOrlov’s eyes still on the back of his head. A chill ran down his spine, and he exhaled slowly—as though emerging from a confined, airless chamber.

“Shall I take you to the residential wing?” Sokolov asked briskly.

“Yes, please. You’re very kind,” Leontiev nodded.

They walked along dim corridors, turning right, then descending a narrow staircase. The walls were lined with old engravings and photographs—groups of graduates from different eras, posed on the same stone steps of the building. Now and then Leontiev slowed, studying the faded faces. Young men and women in strict uniforms, smiling with quiet confidence. Beneath the portraits, he recognized familiar names—ministers, generals, mayors. So this is where they all came from.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” said Sokolov, noticing his interest. “Our alumni go far. Though, of course, some drop out along the way.”

“Drop out?” Alexander echoed.

“The training here is demanding,” Sokolov replied evasively. “Not everyone can handle the pressure. Expulsions happen.”

Leontiev stopped before one photo framed in silver—ten years old. The last row had a gap: one face was neatly cut out.

“And this one?” he asked quietly, nodding toward it.

“Ah, that… Unfortunate case. One graduate later disgraced the Academy—became a traitor. He was removed from our history, so to speak.”Sokolov glanced at the frame; a twitch crossed his cheek.

A cold shiver crept down Alexander’s back. Such a measure felt archaic, almost medieval—like erasing the name of a condemned man from a chronicle. The Academy clearly valued its image—and erased anyone who failed to fit it.

“I see,” he murmured.

They continued on. Soon, a vaulted passage led into a newer wing—walls freshly painted, lined with numbered doors instead of portraits. Sokolov stopped before one marked 6.

“These are your quarters,” he said, handing over a key. “Apologies for the simplicity—former faculty room, used for overnight duty.”

“That will do perfectly,” Alexander assured him, taking the key.

“There’s an Academy uniform in the wardrobe—you may wear it in class, though it’s optional. I’ll come for you at nine tomorrow. You’ll have time for breakfast and a short tour before the session. Anything else you need?”

“Thank you, Dmitry, that’s quite enough,” Leontiev smiled faintly. “You’ve been very helpful.”

Sokolov nodded. “Then rest well, Professor. Tomorrow will be… enlightening.”

And with that, he left Alexander alone.

Chapter 3. The Observer’s Dreams

Alexander unlocked the door and stepped into his temporary refuge. The room was modest but tidy: a bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a small window tucked right under the ceiling, offering a sliver of star-flecked sky. He dropped his travel bag onto a chair and glanced around. Fatigue pressed on him, yet his mind kept churning.

Leontiev sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his coat. The silence was nearly absolute—only the faint hum of the ventilation system broke it. After a tense day, he was finally alone, able to breathe out.

But peace wouldn’t come. The impressions of the first day clung like lead to his thoughts. The curator who greeted him with a sharp, probing stare; the rector, speaking in half-truths; the echoing hallways lined with carved faces on photographs—everything felt like scenery in a meticulously staged performance, with a role set aside for him… though which one exactly?

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