Every corridor buzzed with campaign posters and whispers of voting. The novel voting system at Fortress Academy had layers of weight: each student vote = 1 point, each teacher = 7, an admin member = 14, and a former board member = 20—a classic weighted voting setup where higher-status votes carry greater influence en.wikipedia.org+5en.wikipedia.org+5voting4schools.com+5.

The crucial favorites among students were Allen and Ariel. One afternoon during class, Grace leaned in and shared what she thought:
"I never saw the point of student power positions. It's better to just focus on what matters."

Mark smiled quietly. "I kind of agree."

She preened a bit. "Still, I was impressed by your courtroom performance. You could've been a lawyer."

Mark chuckled softly. "Nahhh."

A week passed in a haze of campaigning and vote-counting. Teachers had voted too—and in their weight, could sway even student favorites. When the day of results arrived, the head girl position was called first: Ariel. The courtyard erupted in cheers.

Next: head boy. Ariel’s mother, the top hero, stood before the students and announced… Mark Velocida.

His heart hammered. This is what I wanted. With this position, I’ll be easier to manage my enemies. The applause roared. Allen, now prefect, walked up and shook his hand calmly. "Congrats, you earned it."

Board members and staff presented the new office holders with a golden tie and a jacket with a gold collar—symbols of authority. Once the teachers and most students dispersed, Max Red approached.

"Don't think you're all that," he growled.

Before Mark could respond, Max drew back a fist. But Mark sidestepped. Max sneered. "If I win a fight, you give up your power."

Mark nodded. "Deal."

They fought in the quiet courtyard. Light and Risa watched from the edges, whispering between them:

"Mark really is strong..."
"You see nothing changed."

The blow dropped when the truth surfaced:

Mark, Light, Risa, Garth, Max—and even Heather—had once been part of I.R.I.S., a secretive program that forcibly amplified cores in children. Mark had been the prodigy; only Heather eventually surpassed him. But experiments twisted everything—energy overload led to the death of his sister, and Mark’s memory was wiped. They scattered: Max and Garth harbored resentment for things Mark did in that lost past, but Light and Risa remained protective allies.

Now, threats circled him—yet he still stood, head high. He’d beaten Max cleanly, no conditions. He just aimed to prove his superiority.

That night, Mark met with the second spy in secret. They exchanged information—Mark never saw this spy as a true threat. Calmly he told her:

“It would be better for you to come clean... before things get complicated.”

The spy looked uncertain but fled before pressing further.

Mark stepped away, the weight of authority now real on his shoulders. He glanced at the golden tie and jacket laid out for him. I never wanted attention, he thought, but to execute my plan, I need it.