Students of different years rushed into the auditorium, scouring for the best seats.

  The group walked in, mesmerized by the incredible infrastructure. The walls were colored deep purple, with gold trimmings running along them like veins of royalty.

  High above the main seats, were the box seats—mini balconies enclosed in deep purple and gold, like little thrones for the self-important.

  Shindo looked around, taking in the magnificent sight.

  “Wow… This place is like a castle.”

  Shiro nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, the color scheme gives off a sense of royalty. Mixed with gold accents allows for a—”

  “Dude, you're trying way too hard,” Daichi cut him off, knowing damn well he’s straight yapping.

  “Come on, we gotta find a seat.”

  The group sat near the middle of the auditorium. Close enough to the stage, but not far from the exit — in case something insane happened. (Smart move.)

  The lights slowly dimmed before a spotlight beamed down on center stage. Smoke began to fill the area, swirling dramatically before dispersing — revealing the silhouette of a high-class man.

  Whispers began to fill the room.

  “Is that him?”

  “Well duh, he’s one of the few in the world as powerful as the Council.”

  “I heard not even Gen Zero could beat him…”

  Heh. Heh. Heh.

  “Well… thank you for the words of admiration,” the man said with a smirk.

  “You first-years sure know how to praise an old man.”

  The man, dressed like an aristocrat, held a cane in one hand.

  Thud.

  He tapped the cane against the stage floor. A sudden aura of authority swept across the auditorium. Everyone knew — that was high-level Karo energy. The crowd began to quiet down.

  “But of course… words like those can only get you so far.”

  “Wow…”

  “Such immense pressure and authority… makes me want to face off against him even more.”

  Sachi whispered, eyes glowing with admiration.

  “Is that seriously all you think about?”

  “Like, come on. You know damn well you’re gonna lose, right?”

  “Well, can’t know ‘til we try, right? Besides, you got a problem with it, starry boy?”

  “…Nope. None at all. You do you.”

  I would like to live past today. Thank you very much.

  “Coward…”

  “Not only are you afraid of the opposite gender, but also unable to have a proper conversation.”

  The disembodied voice shook his non-existent head.

  “Mind your own damn business!”

  “I got it under control!”

  “Sure… whatever you say.”

  “It’s a pleasure to see all the new faces around here.”

  “Well, let me introduce myself to those who don’t know me.”

  “…Is what I’d like to say. But let’s be honest — it’s unlikely for a student of Arcaria to not have heard of yours truly.”

  Of course.

  “I’ll give you all the benefit of the doubt. For those unfamiliar, I’ll say this only once.”

  He paused, smiling smugly.

  “I am one of the few who stand near the power of the Council.”

  “I am known as… the Living Fog.”

  He tilted his head slightly, a twinkle of arrogance in his eye.

  “Please — call me Mr Enzaki.”

  “Well, ‘Principal’ is fine too.”

  Thud.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Another cane tap. This time, thick fog flooded the auditorium. But rather than blinding the crowd, it revealed a live projection, perfectly clear despite the haze.

  Heh. Heh. Heh.

  “Impressed? This is what we call Fates — power gifted to those destined to wield it.”

  “Here at the academy, we help you hone your Karo — refine it until you master it.”

  “And for those blessed with a Fate… there’s a reason you were chosen. That reason is yours to discover.”

  “Our job is to teach you to control it. Someday, your power might be the deciding factor.”

  “In what?” He shrugged slightly. “Well, that’s for you and your destiny to figure out.”

  “Hey, principal, aren’t you forgetting something? This is a school,” the disembodied voice quipped. “Maybe mention education?”

  (He was the one who wrote this guy, by the way.)

  “Hmmmm…” Enzaki replied, looking mildly inconvenienced.

  “Fine. Principal duties or whatever.”

  “You’re not gonna question what I am?”

  “I don’t see you as a threat. Not yet, anyways.”

  “We’ll see, then.”

  The disembodied voice disappeared again.

  “We are still a school,” Enzaki said, almost begrudgingly. “So study hard.”

  “…Or whatever.”

  The fog cleared, revealing the stage again.

  “With that said… welcome to Arcaria Academy.”

  “Now, give a round of applause for the current Student Council President.”

  With a final wave of his hand, Mr. Enzaki vanished in a puff of smoke.

  Whispers began to erupt again in the auditorium.

  “Wow… that was the power of the man known as The Living Fog.”

  “He seems intense… but also weirdly chill.”

  “Not many people can claim to match a Council member and actually back it up.”

  “Dude! He literally made projections using smoke!”

  “That guy’s Fate is insane — and the control? Straight-up masterclass.”

  Daichi grabbed Shiro and shook him like an overexcited child spotting a rocket launch.

  “Yes, yes, I saw — for the love of ‘god,’ stop shaking me.”

  This guy gets excited over everything. Who even has this much energy?

  “So…”

  “Shindo, what do you think of the principal? Odd, right? But kinda… interesting?”

  Shindo was still staring at the fading cloud of smoke where the principal had stood.

  “It was so cool!”

  “He uses his Fate in such a unique way!”

  “Do you think I can be as good as him someday?”

  She turned to Shiro — eyes sparkling like the night sky itself.

  “Of course… your Fate will definitely surpass his.”

  He replied — red as a tomato — looking anywhere but at her.

  How is someone allowed to be that cute?

  Why is this happening on my first day?

  Also, I don’t even know what her Fate is — how was that the right response?

  “So, how about me?”

  “Will I surpass him too?”

  Sachi crashed in like a trainwreck mid-monologue, derailing Shiro’s thoughts entirely.

  “Y-Yeah. You’ll surpass him and then some.”

  “Definitely…”

  “Is that sarcasm I hear!?”

  “Nope. None. Absolutely 100% serious.”

  “Hmph. Fine. I believe you.”

  Please. Let me survive this day. I will get on my knees if I have to.

  “You’ll be fine, you moron.”

  The disembodied voice replied like it had just received a prayer request.

  Thanks, ‘god’ or whatever you are.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  A boy slowly walked onto the stage, making his way toward the lectern.

  He had a serious look on his face — one that demanded respect, yet somehow still felt fair.

  “Is that him?”

  “Yeah, he’s a third-year named Tokeru Kazami.”

  “I heard he’s the current student council president.”

  “Rumor has it… he hates Gen Zero.”

  Ahem.

  “Hello… and welcome to Arcaria Academy.”

  “My name is Tokeru Kazami. Third-year. Current Student Council President.”

  “First, I’d like to congratulate the newcomers who made it into the academy.”

  “I believe each of you earned your place here.

  So prove to yourselves — and to everyone else — that you belong among the best.”

  “Like you, I was once a first-year.

  I worked hard, and I earned my spot.

  Eventually, I became president of the Student Council.”

  “So work hard — and one day, you won’t just be one of the best at Arcaria…

  You’ll be one of the best in history.”

  As he spoke, a silent storm of pressure oozed from him.

  Calm, but laced with something else.

  A subtle bitterness.

  A crack of jealousy hiding in the thunderclouds.

  “But…”

  “I believe there are some who don’t deserve a spot among the best.

  Hell, I question if they even deserve a spot in Arcaria at all.”

  He scanned the crowd.

  But if you looked closer — his eyes were locked onto a specific group.

  “Last year, I stood at this very spot and said the same words.”

  “But unlike today’s first-years…”

  “There was a group who, in my opinion, had no business being here.”

  Bang.

  He slammed the lectern, his voice rising with venom.

  “Let alone the title they were given.”

  “You all know who I’m talking about.”

  He pointed at the crowd — like he was demanding a confession.

  But before anyone could answer, he turned sharply and pointed at one of the box seats.

  “Them…”

  A spotlight snapped to life, cutting through the dark like judgment itself.

  Six figures sat in the glow.

  Unmistakable.

  Famous.

  Feared.

  Loved and hated by the world.

  Pause.

  “Yes, not only are they known by students…”

  “But also by literally everyone else.”

  “Anyway. Back to the story.”

  Unpause.

  They sat above the crowd like royalty.

  No — like uncrowned royals.

  Their presence was suffocating. Their power, undeniable.

  “They, beloved and praised as the strongest of our generation…”

  “Don’t deserve their titles. Or their seats.”

  “Just because they were trained by members of the Council of 13 Fates…”

  “That shouldn’t decide where they stand in the hierarchy.”

  “I didn’t come here today just to welcome the new students.”

  “I came here… to challenge them.”

  “The ‘Uncrowned Royals.’”

  “To a match.”

  “One on one. Fair. Clean.”

  “One of you against me.”

  “I’ll prove to everyone that only those who deserve it… can stand at the top.”

  The entire auditorium went dead silent.

  If you listened hard enough…

  You could hear the void itself sweating.