The dormitory hall thundered with life. Laughter, slamming doors, the frantic shuffle of feet against polished floors — all merging into the restless heartbeat of the academy. The air smelled faintly of soap and steel polish, a reminder that every student here was a fighter in training.

Omega and Hex dashed through the hall, weaving between students like soldiers escaping a battlefield. They skidded to a stop before the classroom just as the door slid open — and froze. A man stood at the front of the room, posture straight as a blade, eyes sharp enough to slice through excuses.

“Good,” he said, voice firm but calm. “Now that everyone’s here, we can begin.”

His name was Jonathan Bate — their homeroom teacher. His uniform was spotless, his expression unreadable.

“The academy has rules,” Jonathan began. “Some are written. Most are not. Learn both if you want to live long.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the class, but it died instantly when he continued. “The AI embedded in your uniform monitors everything. Yes, everything. You can disable it — if you’re rich enough. Otherwise, don’t even try. If hacked, it wipes itself clean… and takes your points with it.”

A hand shot up from the back. “So if we have money,” a student asked, half joking, “we can break the rules?”

Jonathan’s lips curved into a smirk. “Money. Power. Either works. But since all of you are bottom-tier F-Class, don’t get any ideas.”

The room fell silent.

“Each of you receives ten credits a day,” Jonathan continued, pacing. “Higher ranks get more. If you want to climb, earn student points. Fifty to sixty for a chance to move up. Win battles, complete tasks, survive raids — it’s all up to you.”

Hex raised his hand lazily. “And if I don’t care to climb? What then?”

“Then you can convert your points into credits,” Jonathan replied with a shrug. “Combat class or ability class — pick your poison. Choice is yours.”

Excited whispers broke out.

Omega leaned closer to Hex, voice low. “So… we can challenge upper classes?”

“Yes,” Jonathan said without looking up, catching the whisper with unnerving precision. “But only in the arena. Defeat them, and their points are yours.”

The classroom erupted in low murmurs — dreams of glory sparking in every student’s eyes.

---

Far away, on the planet Noctara, the air pulsed like a dying heart. Deep within a shadowed laboratory beneath the King’s castle, machines hissed and churned, feeding life into something unholy.

A figure floated in a vat of crimson liquid. Tubes hummed as data flickered across the glass. Beside it, two beings worked — one human, one not.

“Green,” the Professor called, voice thick with amusement. “The King is awake. He’ll want results soon.”

Green didn’t look up. His movements were precise, metallic. “Progress sits at seventy percent for the multi-color crystals,” he said in a calm, robotic tone. “Ten for the single-color variant. But the system still needs… a host.”

The Professor tilted his head. “And have you found one?”

Green’s lips twisted into a smirk. “Of course. Do you take me for a fool? I’ve already chosen. A human — fitting, isn’t it? Their greed makes them perfect hosts. Besides…” He leaned closer to the glowing console, eyes flashing an eerie emerald. “I’d like to play with them myself.”

“Do what you want,” the Professor murmured. “The Wolves won’t notice yet.”

Green’s metal fingers danced across the control pad. A small cube hovered into his hand — humming with contained power. He twisted a key through thin air, and the fabric of space cracked open like glass.

A rift formed — violent, shimmering, alive. Without another word, Green stepped through.

---

The school bell rang across the academy, its echo shaking the walls of the dorms. Class had ended, and students poured into the corridors like a river released from a dam.

Kazeem stretched, yawning. “I’m done for today. That homeroom guy could talk a demon to sleep.” He trudged off before anyone could answer.

Hex turned to Omega. “So. What now?”

Omega’s eyes drifted toward the window, the sun catching faint scars on his fingers. “I need money,” he said quietly. “For my sister. I’m thinking of joining a hunter team. Maybe raid a small dungeon.”

Hex grinned. “Then count me in. I know a way to make that happen faster.”

“Faster?”

“Safer too. Well— mostly.”

Before Omega could ask, a familiar voice cut in. “If it’s about money and less work,” Jennifer said, crossing her arms, “I’m listening.”

Omega blinked. “You?”

Hex smirked. “Didn’t you say you couldn’t stand me?”

“That was before I saw your ability,” she replied, eyes narrowing. “I thought you were just another weakling.”

“Don’t forget,” Hex said, shrugging. “I only awakened yesterday. Not from a Family crystal.”

Her expression froze. “Wait— what? You’re not Family blood?”

“Nope.”

For a moment, she looked genuinely shaken — then spun around and walked away without another word.

Omega frowned. “What was that about?”

Hex sighed. “Girls. Complicated as dungeons.”

---

By afternoon, they arrived at the Dungeon Access Mansion — a grand, reinforced building where every raid permit was processed. Guards stood in sleek exo-armor, scanning passersby with glowing visors.

Hex spoke with one of the clerks, his tone smooth, confident — and in minutes, authorization documents were printed and stamped with glowing seals.

Omega stared in disbelief. “Wait. I thought dungeon passes were expensive. And… we’re not even five yet.”

“Relax,” Hex said, slipping the papers into his coat. “I told them my father was on the way. And technically, he is.”

“What do you mean, ‘technically’?”

Before Hex could answer, a black car roared up the road — a luxury model from the pre-Fall era, sleek and timeless.

A man in his forties stepped out, his presence commanding. “Young master! How was school?”

“Never better,” Hex grinned. “Uncle Pie, let’s raid this one. I got the passes.”

Uncle Pie nodded once. “Good. Nora, Kevin — prepare for entry.”

Omega blinked, completely thrown off. “Young master? Wait— you’re actually—”

“Shh.” Hex pressed a finger to his lips. “Just a nickname. Don’t make it weird.”

The group approached the dungeon gate. The air shimmered as energy surged, forming a vortex of blue light. Omega’s chest tightened — the familiar pull of the unknown.

They stepped through.

---

The dungeon was a cavern of nightmares. The walls dripped moisture; the ground glistened with dark slime. A sound echoed above — the scraping of countless legs.

From the ceiling descended black spiders, each the size of a grown man. Their glossy limbs gleamed in the faint dungeon light.

“What… what are those things?” Omega breathed.

Uncle Pie drew a short blade with one smooth motion. Its edge shimmered faintly — an uncommon-grade weapon. “Stay behind me,” he said.

Then he moved — impossibly fast. His sword cut through the first spider like air. The next lunged; he pivoted and cleaved its head clean off.

Omega could barely follow his movements. “Is he… an A-rank hunter?”

Hex shook his head. “No. Just skilled. That’s the difference experience makes.”

Kevin summoned a gust of wind, slicing through the web-strands that began to fall from above. Nora glowed faintly, light spreading from her hands as wounds closed before they could bleed.

They pushed deeper. The air grew colder. Omega’s pulse matched the rhythm of their footsteps — steady, cautious, alive.

Then the ground trembled. Shadows stretched across the walls as the air rippled with dark energy.

A low hum filled the space — not of this world.

And from that distortion… a figure stepped through.

Metal skin. Glowing green eyes. A smile too human for what he was.

Green had arrived.

"Hello," said Green with a mischievous smile.

Everyone was on edge.

Uncle Pie grabbed his blades tightly. He could tell from the energy radiating off Green that this man was at least B-rank.

After the Fall, the world had changed. Hunters now walked the Earth—ranked from F to A.

It wasn’t long before the S-ranks began appearing… and those were only the family heads.

But B and A ranks were still rare—mostly belonging to “young masters.”

For Green to carry that kind of aura meant he might be one of them.

Uncle Pie said, “Who are you, and what are you doing in this dungeon?”

Green replied, “Would it be surprising if I told you my sole reason… is to kill you?”

Omega, Nora, and Kevin looked at Uncle Pie, eyes wide.

For a moment, they wondered what he had done to anger someone this powerful.

Green noticed their confusion and smiled wider.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” said Green. “I mean all of you.”

Uncle Pie said, “Okay, that’s it. I’m done listening to this crap.”

He dashed forward, using his full speed, swinging his short blade toward Green’s neck.

But Green tilted aside with equal—no, slightly lesser—speed, evading the strike effortlessly.

Uncle Pie said, “It seems I’m not the only speed user here. But it also seems like I’m the better one.”

Green sighed.

“That’s because I’m not a speed user. I can’t even use my ability in this fight.”

Uncle Pie said, “I’m going to wipe that smug look off your face. Motion Slash!”

Like a spinning fan, Uncle Pie’s arms moved in a blur, slashing from high and low in perfect rhythm.

Hex said, “That’s his special technique. It eats up stamina fast, but it’s deadly. This talking beast is as good as dead.”

Omega said, “Now I see why you think this level of dungeon means nothing.”

But in reality, Uncle Pie was struggling.

Uncle Pie thought, Who is this guy? I can’t even land a clean hit. He blocks everything—like hell!

And that’s exactly what Green was doing. He hadn’t taken a single strike directly.

Kevin noticed the same thing and decided to help.

Kevin shouted, “Wind Gala!”

A gust of cutting wind shot from his hand, slashing through Green’s chest toward his shoulder.

Everyone expected blood, a deep wound—maybe even a missing limb.

But when the dust cleared, Green stood still, barely scratched.

Green said, “You know, I was just here to play with you guys. But now… I’m pissed.”

In an instant, he appeared in front of Kevin.

Kevin barely saw him move.

Before anyone could react—before even Uncle Pie could blink—Green grabbed Kevin’s head and crushed it.

Blood splattered.

Kevin dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

Uncle Pie roared and dashed forward, but met the same fate—his attack caught, his body twisted.

Green raised his hand to finish it, but before he could—

“Lightning Bolt!” shouted Hex.

A surge of electricity exploded toward Green. He dodged, forced to drop Uncle Pie.

The blast ripped through the stone wall behind him.

Hex said, “Nora, look after Uncle Pie while I deal with this beast!”

“Young Master, you’re not yourself! You should call for help!” said Nora

Hex didn’t answer.

He dashed forward, lightning amplifying his speed—not on Green’s or Uncle Pie’s level, but enough to make the ground crack beneath his feet.

Green said, “Well, you’re impressive. I would’ve liked to play with you… but I’ve grown impatient.”

Omega stood frozen, his mind blank.

Everything was moving too fast—like an action scene unfolding in a VR movie.

Nora knelt beside Uncle Pie, using her healing ability to stabilize his broken body.

Then they heard it—a loud slam.

Green was walking toward them.

Behind him, Hex lay buried in rubble and dust.

Nora’s eyes burned with anger. She removed her hand from Uncle Pie, conjuring a green, three-foot-long energy needle.

With a flick of her wrist, she hurled it at Green.

The needles struck his body. His aura flickered for a moment, his energy drained slightly—but Green didn’t stop.

He didn’t even flinch.

It was as if he already knew what would happen.

Green swung his arm lazily.

Slap.

Nora was sent flying across the room, crashing hard into the dungeon wall.

Omega’s hands shook.

“Didn’t your mama ever teach you not to hit a girl?” said Omega.

Green laughed.

“Oh, she did,” he said. “She also taught me to treat all beings equally.”

He raised his hand—and with a fast swing—Omega blacked out.