As the group made their way down the sterile, white halls of the academy, the quiet footsteps were broken by Erin's voice.
"Hey, Vorden," she said, glancing sideways at him. "How long can you copy someone's ability?"
Vorden cracked a grin, stretching his arms behind his head. "Twenty-four hours."
Erin nodded slowly, her gaze thoughtful.
Then Quinn turned to Ken, curiosity clear in his eyes. "What about you, Ken? What's your ability exactly?"
Ken fell silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke, "It's the ability to control my own energy," he said. "I haven't given it a name yet."
Quinn raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "That sounds... flexible."
Ken just nodded.
The group kept chatting lightly as they climbed the stairs to the classroom. It was a strange mix of calm after the storm, each of them recovering not just physically, but mentally from the events of that morning. They knew the academy wouldn't get any easier.
Upon arriving, they found the classroom already filling up. Their teacher, Del, the same easygoing man who had guided them through their tour, stood at the front with his usual warm smile.
"Take your seats, everyone," he said. "We'll be starting shortly."
The seating followed an unspoken pattern. Students gravitated toward others of similar levels, just like in the canteen. Higher levels sat near the front, chatting confidently, while the lower levels gathered near the back or edges, quietly listening in. The hierarchy was clear.
But Ken, Vorden, and Erin ignored the unspoken rule.
They walked with Quinn, Peter, and Layla to the back of the class and sat together.
Whispers broke out almost immediately.
"Aren't those the ones who got wrecked this morning?"
"Why are they still with the level 1s and 2s?"
"Didn't they learn their lesson?"
Some students glanced up from their desks, others leaned over to their friends, murmuring behind their hands. But none dared to approach them.
Ken didn't say anything. He simply sat down, arms crossed, and his expression calm. Erin remained her usual stoic self, and Vorden, of course, wore a mischievous smirk like he hadn't just been slammed into the cafeteria wall 20 minutes ago.
Del clapped his hands to gain attention. "All right, class. Let's begin with a simple question: what does it mean to have power?"
He let the silence stretch a moment before continuing.
"Because in this academy, that question will be answered over and over again—and it's up to you to decide what kind of answer you'll give."
Ken's eyes narrowed slightly at that.
As Del continued to speak his easygoing demeanor was now replaced by a weightier tone. His voice echoed through the silent room, gripping the attention of every student.
"When we were about to lose the great war against the Dalki," Del began, his tone growing more impassioned with every word, "that was when they came forward—the 'Originals.'"
His eyes blazed with intensity as he looked from one student to the next, ensuring no one missed the gravity of his words.
"These humans had kept their abilities hidden for hundreds of years, only passing them down through bloodlines, to family members they trusted. And yet, when humanity was on the brink of extinction… they chose to step into the light."
He paused again, letting the weight of history settle into the room. The students, even those who'd been whispering before, were now hanging on his every word.
"Thanks to them, thanks to their choice to share their abilities with the rest of us, we were able to reverse the tide of the war. We managed to push back the Dalki and survive."
Del's voice softened slightly, shifting into a more contemplative tone.
"When we talk about an 'Original' today, we're referring to the founders of those abilities… or to those who still carry on the legacy of secrecy, the few families that refused to share what they inherited to the world."
Then, his expression darkened with sudden seriousness.
"We might live in a time of peace now, but who knows when the war might start again? That's why you're here. To be ready to defend this world when it needs you most."
A long silence followed as the students absorbed the gravity of his words.
The bell chimed.
"Break time," Del said, his lighter tone returning. "Go stretch your legs. We'll pick things up again shortly."
As students filed out of the room, the usual chatter returned—but it was quieter, more thoughtful. The group of six Ken, Vorden, Erin, Quinn, Peter, and Layla made their way outside toward a small courtyard where a snack cart was parked.
The sunlight warmed the clean white walkways, and the artificial trees offered shade and seating. Students grabbed drinks and snacks, but their eyes still occasionally glanced towards the group direction, some were curious, others more cautious.
Ken leaned against a tree with a bottle of water in hand, his mind quietly turning over Del's words.
Quinn, who was beside him, looked like he was deep in thought too. Layla snagged a snack bar from the cart and sat on a bench with Peter.
"You think there are Originals here at the school?" Peter asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
Vorden just smirked. "Of course!"
Ken said nothing, but the small twitch at the corner of his mouth said he was thinking the same thing.
As the break continued the group sat together, laughing and sharing stories about their past schools. Their conversation bounced between jokes, embarrassing moments, and odd teachers they'd had, the air light with the comfort of new friendship.
But the mood shifted as a group of six male students approached, each wearing a black armband that marked them as a second-year. Their expressions were unreadable, but the tension in their presence was clear.
"So the rumors were true," one of the second-years said, his tone edged with disdain. "Didn't Ray already teach you a lesson back in the canteen?"
Another stepped forward, his eyes cold and sharp. "We've got some business with the six of you. Mind coming with us?" His gaze scanned the group like a challenge, daring them to say no.
Ken, Vorden, Peter, Quinn, Erin, and Layla exchanged glances but remained quiet as they were led away. The second-years led them towards a separate building, one that belongs to the second-years.
As they walked, Peter leaned toward the others and whispered, "Should we just run?"
Vorden let out a dry chuckle under his breath. "And go where, genius? Pretty sure they'd chase us down for sport."
Layla frowned, her arms folded tightly across her chest. "We don't even know what they want yet."
Erin stayed silent, but her eyes were sharp, and calculating. She subtly shifted her weight with every step, staying alert and ready, just in case.
Ken walked quietly at the center of the group, his jaw clenched, and his mind spinning. So that upperclassman me and the others fought was Ray…but wasn't he enough? Now more are getting involved?
Quinn, meanwhile, seemed oddly calm in the situation, although a crease of concern lined his forehead. "They wouldn't drag us all the way out here for another random beatdown," he muttered. "There's something else going on."
As they continued walking, the halls grew quieter and more isolated. The friendly chatter and buzz of other students faded behind them.
Ken's gut twisted. Whatever this was, it wasn't just about power levels anymore.
After walking for what felt like an eternity, the group finally arrived at their destination—an isolated area beneath one of the second-year buildings. The concrete corridors were dim and hushed, broken only by the distant footsteps of the occasional upperclassman passing through. It was clear this part of the campus wasn't meant for first-years.
"We brought them here, Mono," one of the second-year students announced, gesturing toward the group.
A tall man sat on the lower steps of the staircase, his brown hair tied into a loose ponytail. He looked casual, relaxed even—but the aura he gave off was anything but. His eyes were cold and observant, as he scanned each of them.
"You guys can leave," Mono said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
The other second-years didn't question him. They turned and vanished as quickly as they'd arrived, leaving Ken and the others alone with him.
Mono stood up, dusting off his pants. "Some rumors have reached my ears," he said, his voice low but commanding. "Rumors of high-level students hanging around with a bunch of low-levels."
"So what?" Vorden snapped, refusing to step back. His tone carried the same confidence he'd shown in the canteen.
Erin, calm and composed, narrowed her eyes. "Why should anyone dictate who we can and can't spend our time with?"
But as the others turned to Mono, something made their stomachs sink the number on his wristwatch displayed: 6.0
A brief, involuntary flash of memory hit them all—the sight of the upperclassman who went by the name Ray, was a level 6.1. They remembered how, once his soul weapon activated, Ken, Vorden, and Erin had been utterly overwhelmed. The wounds might have healed, but the lesson still stung.
Mono noticed the shift in their expressions and smirked. Without warning, he slowly turned toward Quinn, Peter, and Layla.
"You see," he said, his voice dripping with disdain, "the moment you start treating this trash like they're useful to society, they might start to get a big head."
He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto Quinn with amusement, then to Peter and Layla. None of them responded—though Peter visibly clenched his fists.
"Before you know it," Mono continued, "they start talking back. Acting like they belong to society. But trash is still trash. No matter what level they hang around with."
Ken felt his blood begin to boil. His fists clenched at his sides.
Mono's smile widened slightly. He was enjoying this.
Mono stood still for a moment, letting the silence settle over the group like a suffocating blanket. His eyes lingered on each of them especially on Quinn, Peter, and Layla—studying their reactions. There was no amusement now. Only cold calculation.
"You don't know how this place works yet," Mono said, his voice like steel wrapped in silk. "This school may preach order and unity, but don't be fooled. Power rules here. Hierarchy matters. And there are lines you do not cross."
He took a step closer to Ken now, staring directly into his eyes. "Ray gave you a lesson in that. A small one. Consider it a favor." Mono said, in a low voice.
Ken didn't flinch, though every muscle in his body tensed.
Mono then turned to Vorden. "You think copying someone's ability makes you their equal? Cute."
His gaze then shifted to Erin. "And you... talent doesn't mean anything if you don't know your place."
He stepped back, giving them all one last glance. "You've made a name for yourselves already. That's fine. Keep pushing the boundaries if you want. But understand this next time, there won't be a warning."
His wrist flicked slightly, the number 6.0 catching the light just enough for all of them to see.
"It'll be a test."
Mono turned around and began to walk away, but paused just before disappearing around the corner.
"Oh," he added looking over his shoulder, "and when that day comes, I won't hold back like Ray did."
And with that, he vanished down the hallway, leaving the group in a heavy silence, the air was thick with the weight of his words.
Vorden let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "I'm really starting to hate this place."
Peter nodded. "We need to get stronger."
Ken didn't say anything at first. He looked down at his hands, feeling the energy simmer just beneath the surface.
"No," he finally said. "We will get stronger."