Thump. Thump. Thump.
The four teenagers ran toward the light. It shined brightly like the gates of heaven.
(It’s literally just the entrance to the audience stands of the S.T.F.)
They stepped into the light, revealing a massive stadium-slash-battlefield. Students roared from the stands like it was a full-blown event.
(Shiro looked at the crowd.)
“Wow…”
“This was supposed to be a normal orientation.”
Unbeknownst to him, a crimson-haired girl was getting annoyed. Which is deserved. Maybe. Maybe not. But hey—I don’t make the rules.
“Starry boy, quit gawking. We need good seats.”
“Yeah, what she said.”
(Shiro stared at Daichi, betrayed.)
“Dude, wth. Why are you agreeing with her?”
“Sorry, I just don’t wanna get sent flying.”
Unbelievable.
He’s known her for less than a day. Less than a day!
While we have known each other since childhood.
It’s always your own people that throw you under the bus.
“My bad. I will take full responsibility for that.”
The disembodied voice echoed from the void.
You will?
“Nah. Sounds like a you problem, honestly.”
Dude, why do you even exist?
“To mess with people. That’s why.”
“Now move along, if you know what’s good for you.”
I hate this world.
They found some decent seats—middle of the pack. Prime viewing range.
(Shindo leaned over from her seat.)
“I get how you feel. This place is so lively.”
She whispered quietly to Shiro—unaware of the internal damage she’d just caused.
Cough.
“Yeah, this place is… loud, you know? Yeah…”
What the hell kind of response is that!?
‘This place is loud, yeah’? That’s the best I could come up with!?
Omnipotent voice, where’s the bone?
“Don’t worry. You’ll get it eventually.”
Pause.
“…Eventually.”
“When I feel like it, at least.”
Unpause.
(Now let’s pan the camera toward the center of the battlefield.)
WHOOF!
A thick cloud of smoke burst from the center of the stadium, slowly revealing a figure.
Of course. It was none other than Mr. Enzaki.
Tap.
Just like in the auditorium, he tapped his cane—and the crowd immediately went quiet.
High-level Karo really does shut people up.
Ahem.
“Welcome to the S.T.F., a state-of-the-art training facility.”
“A one-of-one in all of Phavorius. But today, it serves a secondary purpose…”
“It shall be the battlefield of a once-in-a-lifetime event.”
“So…”
“Enjoy the show.”
He said it smugly. Like he was the main event.
Wooooooo!
YEAHHHH!
The cheers exploded like fireworks. You could practically feel the hype in the air.
Honestly, it was kind of suffocating.
He. He.
“The air feels so exciting.”
“We get to see Gen Zero!”
(Shindo, starry-eyed, gazed down at the battlefield.)
“Hey, who do you think will face off against Tokeru?”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“I say it’s probably…”
(Shiro paused.)
“…Ru-ki-mi…”
His jaw clenched like his body physically rejected the name.
It’s like saying it was against his body's survival instinct.
“I believe he might face him too.”
Ha. Ha.
(Sachi cut in.)
“With all due respect, Ms. Shindo—”
“I believe the Flame Empress will take center stage.”
“Ain’t that right, Normo?”
(Daichi nodded enthusiastically.)
“Ya, sure thing.”
With all due respect, I’m only agreeing because I want to live past today.
Personal opinion? Doesn’t matter who fights.
After meeting two of them in one day, I fully understand how outmatched we are.
KRRRRR-CHHHHNK… SKREEEEEEEEEEE…
On the left side of the battlefield, a massive metal door groaned open.
A single figure stepped through—you could guess who.
The student council president, Tokeru Kazami, had arrived. Calm, composed, and walking to the center like he owned it.
(He looked at Mr. Enzaki.)
“Principal.”
“Tokeru.”
KRRRRR-CHHHHNK… SKREEEEEEEEEEE…
Then, on the right, another metal door opened. Six figures walked in.
“GEN ZERO! GEN ZERO! GEN ZERO!”
The crowd erupted.
The six walked to the center—Ryo oddly covered in a thin sheet of ice.
Pause.
“If you’re wondering why he looks like a popsicle…”
“Don’t worry—I’ll make a whole interlude about their backstage nonsense.”
“Why?”
“Because I can. What are you gonna do about it?”
Unpause.
(Ryo glanced at the principal.)
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t ask.”
“I wasn’t planning to. Why would you assume that?”
“Statistically, there was a 55% chance of you asking. A 30% chance you’d ignore it, and 15% chance of you making a philosophical joke.”
“Winter came early, I see.”
(Ryo noted that down.)
Props to him for writing it down.
On a literal frozen ice tablet. Not that he wanted it that way.
“So, which of you Uncrowned Royals will face me?”
“I’ll show you why titles are earned, not given.”
Gen Zero? Blatantly ignoring him.
They were too busy talking among themselves.
The so-called strongest of the new generation, everyone.
“So…”
“I suggest we vote like before?”
“Any objections?”
Of course Keigo—lovable golden retriever Keigo—objects.
Suggests something way more childish.
Honestly? Fitting.
“Oh oh! Why don’t we play rock-paper-scissors?”
“It’s fun and simple!”
Look at me, I’m so smart. I should be the leader.
(He shall not—with all due respect.)
“Anyone in favor, say ‘aye.’”
Four of them said yes.
Only two objected:
Ryo—for obvious reasons.
And Haru—because she’s Haru.
“Keigo, that’s a dumb idea and you know it.”
“But-but, you liked rock-paper-scissors when we were little…”
FWOOM!
(He was gravity-slammed.)
“Shut up. Why do you remember such things?”
(Haru visibly red.)
“Because I lo—”
Pause.
“Yeah, we’re skipping that.”
“Obvious reasons.”
“E.g. teenagers with emotional problems.”
Unpause.
(Ichika tilted her head.)
“So, how does it work? Does the winner face him or the loser?”
“Logically, it’s usually the winner.”
“But none of us seem willing to participate except Keigo.”
“For safety reasons, he should be the last person to be allowed to participate.”
“So by that logic the loser should go.”
(Ichika leaned in close.)
“How logical.”
“Cool, even…”
Cue Ryo trying to compute emotions.
Spoiler: this boy understands feelings worse than he understands corrupted files.
Cool? Me? No, no—I wasn’t trying to be cool. That was purely logical. Coolness factor not detected.
“Yeah. Cool. Me. Very cool.”
(Camera pans to the disasters that are Frostfire.)
“Glitchbrain~”
“And he’s supposed to be the leader.”
“He should work on his emotions.”
“…And his spreadsheet personality.”
“Oh~ look at you, telling someone to work on their emotions.”
“Pot calling the kettle black~”
“I don’t have emotional issues.”
“Sure, Ice Cube~”
Tch.
“Annoying fireball…”
(Camera pans back to the crowd and the four first-years.)
Honestly, the crowd couldn’t hear anything they said.
But visually? You could definitely tell they were bickering like dumb teens.
Hey, voice or whatever—explain how these people are supposed to be the strongest.
They act just like us.
And why does Rukimi get the coolness factor and not me?
“They’re teenagers like you.”
“Also, quit complaining and maybe you’ll earn that coolness factor or whatever you’re whining about.”
“Until then—cope.”
Useless god-thing.
(Shindo stared down at the battlefield.)
“I can’t believe I got to meet two of them…”
“Their powers are extraordinary.”
(Sachi nodded.)
“Their aura is otherworldly.”
“But they seem… rather unserious.”
“Still, I’d love to fight them.”
“Didn’t you chicken out when you challenged them?”
Ahem.
“That was a tactical withdrawal, Starry Boy.”
“You got a problem with that?”
“None at all.”
“Nice work, dude.”
“Shut it, Daichi. At least I’m not a coward.”
“Touché…”
“Any idea what they’re saying down there?”
“No clue—wait, they’re raising their hands?”
“Wait, are they playing rock-paper-scissors?”
He. He.
“How cute…”
“They really are just like us.”
“I’d love to agree with you, Ms. Shindo.”
“But I think their definition of normal is… a little different.”
Of course, Shiro had to jump in with a hot take.
Which was less about Gen Zero and more about Sachi.
“I think your definition of normal is different from the rest of us.”
“…Oh.”
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Starry Boy. I’ll give you three seconds.”
(Alright, camera pan back to the center of the battlefield.)
