“Hey, hey, Diana! Are you okay?” A voice—Alita’s—echoed in my ears as my senses slowly returned. She waved a hand in front of my face. The shifting crowd jostled me, forcing me down onto the ground.

Raymond knelt beside me, his hand gripping mine. His face was pale, and he exhaled in relief when I finally answered. “Oh—what were you saying?”

“Are you okay? Do you have a fever? Do you feel tired? Do you—”

I cut him off, forcing a strained smile as I stood, brushing away their worry.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he pressed, his eyes scanning mine as I turned away. A thin sheen of sweat clung to my skin; my caramel complexion had grown pale. The dark circles beneath my eyes stood out starkly. My hands trembled. My breath came unevenly. My ears rang. A knot tightened in my stomach.

“What was that about?” a man asked, brows furrowed as he turned to the one beside him.

“Danny, don’t look at me like that. I may be an electrician, but I’m not a magician—how would I know? I just… I don’t know. I felt light‑headed. Almost like I was open—naked—for someone to see my soul.”

“Sam, I may not be religious, but I believe this is the time our God should interfere and send me back home. I left my grandmother alone in the house.” His black eyes swept the room as he smoothed a hand over his thinning hair.

“When I asked to return, they told me we’d ‘figure something out.’ They don’t seem to want to let us leave,” Sam said, wringing his fingers.

Breathing heavily, Danny replied, “I have human rights. They’re violating our human rights.”

“Shut up. If anyone’s to blame, it’s the government!” an old man interjected, his weathered body trembling, his back hunched with age.

Silence fell once again as I met their eyes.

“Ugh, this again.” I sighed, the words a heavy weight on my chest. “I don’t trust any of this. Have you ever seen anyone give away free food and expect absolutely nothing in return?” I turned to Raymond, but his eyes were narrowed, glaring at the queen as she spoke.

“Did you notice she is wearing a red gown with a neon green shawl? She looks like a walking, talking, breathing Christmas light,” he muttered. “But I get what you mean. She seems… nervous. And her kids are all beautiful. The genetics seem good—no mutations.”

I just stared at him, bewildered. He was holding a pair of heavy, bulky Porro-prism binoculars, his hands quivering slightly under the weight. “When did you even get those?” I pointed, dumbfounded.

“I bought them in the system,” he shrugged, his eyes still glued to the front. “Don’t regret it for a second, but man, they’re expensive and heavy.”

“Wow, Porro-prism binoculars in real life!” Alita’s wings fluttered as she zipped over, pressing her face right up against a lens.

Cassel grabbed Alita by the scruff of her shirt, her tiny body dangling in the air. “You shouldn’t block Father Raymond’s view of the queen. She might become my queen mother someday.”

Raymond let out a sputtered choke, and Trinity, standing next to us, rolled her eyes. A small hiss escaped the snake wrapped around her wrist. Why do they always behave like children? Their professionalism as police detectives is basically nonexistent. It’s ridiculous to think these two are capable of taking down drug and human trafficking rings.До сих пор не могу поверить, что мы учились в одной полицейской академии. Просто смешно! (I still can’t believe we attended the same police academy. It’s ridiculous!)

Alita cleared her throat and pointed, her cheeks puffed and flushed a deep shade of red. “Imagine Tinkerbell,” she said. “First of all, that woman you call ‘Queen Mother’ is married with children. Second, there is absolutely nothing to see—it’s like sitting down and saying, ‘I’m going to watch paint dry.’ And finally, we need to advance the plot. We have to fast‑forward. You know it costs money and effort to produce this story and air it on television in our own animation studio—and yes, it can even cause finger cramps!”

“Technically,” Cassel cut in, flipping through a script stamped Confidential, his new glasses sliding down his nose. “According to the script, this is a novel. Financially, we’re in dire straits unless we increase our viewers, followers, and donations. So… yeah.”

With a soft poof, both his glasses and the script vanished. Alita rolled her eyes toward the heavens as the snake at her feet hissed at him.

The ceremony pressed on, the hum of magic reverberating through the room. Clouds gathered overhead as Saint Lilith called out, “One.”

She stepped forward, fingers trembling, blue curls spilling over her shoulders. Her white trainers squeaked against the tiles; a silver nose piercing caught the light. Black‑rimmed glasses framed her face, her small lips pressed into a line of determination.

She halted before the crystal orbs.

“Relax your body,” the saint instructed. “Feel the energy of your card—your core—and guide it from your arms into your fingertips. Then, focus that power into the crystal orb.”

Mia closed her eyes, a low hum vibrating in her throat. Soft light bloomed at her temples, streaming down through her arms to her fingertips. The orb darkened—then flared into a dazzling white. Lightning crackled across its surface, followed by a sudden burst of flame. The air grew sharp and cold, breath misting in the chill.

Numbers shimmered across the orb’s surface: “Mia Torez, seventeen years old — Rank S, Element: Fire.”

For a heartbeat, the hall was silent. All eyes were fixed on her. The king blinked, and time seemed to slow; an almost supernatural grin spread across his face, a dark glint flickering in his eyes.

Then the applause came — not polite, but a crashing wave that rolled through the chamber like a storm. I clamped my hands over my ears; the sound was almost deafening. Hearts pounded. The air buzzed with anticipation as, one by one, names were called.

“Number 39… 49… 59… 900… 901…”

Finally, the saints reached number 902.

Raymond strode to the front, his expression hardening into a mask of cold resolve. His back was as straight as bamboo as he placed his hands on the crystal. The saint laid her palm over his. He pulled back slightly, meeting her blindfolded gaze with a glint of ice in his own.

Light burst from his hands, flooding the orb with molten gold. Thunder cracked overhead; lightning danced across the chamber walls.

“Mr Raymond, twenty-six years old — Rank SS, Dual Elements: Water and Wind.”

The hall erupted again, the sound ricocheting off marble and steel.

I leaned toward Alita. “Didn’t you say there were only six ranks? Where did SS come from?”

She picked at her ear, casually filing her nails. “It’s just a level of extreme power. Didn’t expect that from him, though — figured he’d be A rank at best. Oh, and Trinity? She’s SS too. Earth and water.”

Then—

“One thousandth hero, step forward.”

My turn.

The room was jittery with excitement; even the systems seemed to hum with energy. I took a step — then froze.

Something cold coiled around my arm. The snake. Its body pressed tight, scales etching a perfect spiral into my skin. The pressure was almost possessive, almost a warning.

I stared at it for a breath too long. Then I shook it off and walked forward toward the crystal orb. Ready.

And paused.

The hall dissolved. The air thickened.

Fast forward to the end.

I breathed. Held my ground.

“You bloody bastards think I’m afraid? Banish me. But when this world burns — don’t come crawling.”

I turned, heels striking the marble like a drumbeat. Didn’t flinch.

Bang! The gates slammed shut behind me.

And that’s how it ended. But it began here — in this room, in this storm, three hours before the word Calamity coiled itself around my fate.