The silence in the Assembly Hall was absolute. It wasn't just quiet; it was the kind of heavy, suffocating silence that exists at the bottom of a deep ocean.
On the stage, the boy with the golden crown didn't look like a teenager. He looked like an idol carved from marble. The spotlight hit his blonde hair, creating a halo that felt more threatening than angelic.
"You are here," the Head Student began, his voice washing over the thousands of students like a physical tide, "because you are prey."
Ash shifted in his velvet seat. He felt a cold sweat prickling the back of his neck.
"In your old world," the Head Student continued, pacing slowly across the stage, his crimson cape trailing behind him like a pool of blood, "you were the ones who looked at the floor when someone shouted. You were the ones shoved into lockers. You were the victims. The statistics."
He stopped, looking directly into the crowd. His eyes were a piercing, electric blue.
"But here? Weakness is a sin. And Apex Academy is the purgatory where you will burn that sin away."
"This guy is intense," Ash thought, lampooning the situation to keep his anxiety in check. He talks like an anime villain who just monologue-dumped his entire philosophy in episode one.
"Forget your homes," the Head Student commanded. "Forget your PlayStations, your warm beds, your parents. They have already forgotten you. To them, you never existed. You are ghosts."
A ripple of gasps went through the hall. Some kids started sobbing quietly. Ash gripped the armrests of his chair. Mom. Aisha. The thought of his little sister staring at his empty room, not remembering who slept there, made his stomach churn with a nausea that had nothing to do with the teleportation sickness.
"There is only one way to return," the Head Student said, raising a gloved finger. "You must climb. You must evolve. You must attain the Seal of Malaki."
He paused for dramatic effect.
"Only when you have transcended your weakness can you attempt the Pilgrimage of Freedom. A series of trials so harrowing that in the history of this dimension, only one student has ever succeeded."
"One?" A whisper rippled through the crowd.
"Just one?"
"That was one hundred years ago," the Head Student added casually. Ash felt the collective hope in the room die a violent death. One guy in a century. Great odds. I should have just bought a lottery ticket instead.
"But do not despair," the boy said, a small, arrogant smile playing on his lips. "We have given you the tools to survive. Raise your hand to your right ear. Tap the cartilage twice."
Ash hesitated, then copied the motion.
Tap. Tap.
Bzzzt.
A soft hum resonated in his skull. Suddenly, light projected from his ear, forming a translucent blue holographic screen hovering six inches in front of his face.
Name: Asher Adams
Artifact: [Sealed]
Rank: 0
Power Level: 0
Ash looked around. The hall was filled with thousands of blue screens. Every single one he could see showed the same thing.
Power Level: 0.
"You are all zeroes," the Head Student mocked gently. "Unawakened. Useless."
He tapped his own ear. A massive screen, twenty feet tall, projected above the stage in blazing gold light.
Name: [Redacted]
Role: Head Student
Artifact: [Redacted]
Rank: Pinnacle
Power Level: 700
The gap was so large it wasn't even funny. It was the difference between an ant and a supernova.
"Once you visit the Armory you will awaken your Artifacts—any object you brought with you while you were abducted will be imbued with magical powers —your level will rise to 1. From there, it is up to you to grind, to fight, and to survive."
Suddenly, a screeching noise broke the atmosphere. The sound of a chair scraping violently against the floor.
A boy stood up near the front. He was scrawny, wearing the same black uniform which hung loosely on his frame. He had messy black hair and round, Harry Potter-style glasses. He looked of Japanese descent, and right now, he looked furious.
"This is ridiculous!" the boy shouted. His voice cracked, but he kept going. "Is this a reality TV show? Because if it is, I'm not signing the release forms!"
The Head Student stopped pacing. He looked down at the boy with mild curiosity.
"And you are?"
"Mugino," the boy spat, adjusting his glasses. "Mugino Kurosaki. And my father is the CEO of Kurosaki Heavy Industries. If you don't let us go right now, he will buy this entire island, burn it down, and sue you into the Stone Age!"
Ash winced. Read the room, buddy. This guy isn't worried about lawsuits. The Head Student didn't speak. He didn't even frown. He just moved.
It wasn't a run. It was a glitch.
One second, he was on stage. The next, he was standing directly in front of Mugino. The air pressure in the room dropped, making everyone's ears pop.
"Your father," the Head Student whispered, his voice amplified by the silence, "cannot help you here. Your Money has no currency in Apex."
Mugino stumbled back, his bravado crumbling. "D-don't touch me! I'll—"
The Head Student reached into his breast pocket. He pulled out a pen.
It was exquisite. A fountain pen made of pure, ethereal gold, pulsing with a faint heartbeat of light.
He raised the pen and slashed it through the air.
Whoosh.
He didn't touch Mugino. He wrote on the air.
A glowing line of purple ink hung in the empty space, twisting and turning into a complex, geometric circle—a rune.
"Bind," the Head Student commanded softly.
He flicked the pen. The purple rune shot forward, slamming into Mugino's chest.
It didn't knock him back. Instead, thick, glowing ropes of purple energy erupted from the rune. They coiled around Mugino like pythons, slamming his arms to his sides and snapping his legs together.
Mugino opened his mouth to scream.
The Head Student slashed a horizontal line in the air.
Zip.
A band of purple light slapped over Mugino's mouth, sealing it shut. The boy fell back into his chair, eyes bulging, thrashing uselessly against the magical bonds.
The hall gasped. It was a collective intake of breath that sucked the oxygen out of the room. Some kids looked terrified. Others, looked at the Head Student with awe.
Ash felt a familiar heat rising in his chest. It was the same heat he felt when Adam Longthrow used to knock books out of kids' hands. It was the irritation of seeing someone strong abuse someone weak just because they could.
Don't do it, Ash, his brain warned. Look at the level difference. You are a zero. He is a god.
Ash stood up.
"That's enough!"
His voice rang out, surprisingly steady. The Head Student turned slowly. The golden pen hovered in his hand, the nib dripping with liquid light. He looked at Ash.
"Excuse me?"
Ash's legs were shaking, but he locked his knees. "He gets it, okay? He was just scared. We're all scared. You didn't have to tie him up like an animal just for asking a question."
The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush a tank.
Everyone stared at Ash. The kid next to him scooted his chair away, terrified of catching the splash damage.
The Head Student stared at Ash. His expression was unreadable. He looked at Ash's messy grey hair, his defiant stance, his trembling hands.
Then, the Head Student smiled. It wasn't the arrogant smirk from before. It was... warm. Almost amused. Like a master watching a puppy try to bark.
"Courage," the Head Student mused. "Or perhaps stupidity. The line is often thin."
He waved the pen casually.
Snap.
The purple ropes around Mugino dissolved into sparkles of light. The gag vanished. Mugino gasped, sucking in air, coughing violently.
"You are correct, Mr...?"
"Ash," Ash said, his throat dry. "Ash."
"Mr. Ash . Fear does make us act irrationally." The Head Student slipped the golden pen back into his pocket. "Let this be a lesson. Authority here is absolute. But mercy... mercy is earned."
He turned his back on them. "You will now proceed to the Armory for Artifact activation. The Ushers will guide you. Welcome to Apex Academy."
A flash of blinding gold light exploded from the stage. Ash shielded his eyes. When the spots cleared, the stage was empty.
"Please file out in an orderly fashion," the Ushers droned in unison.
The spell broke. The students began to stand, whispering frantically.
Ash exhaled, sinking back into his chair for a second. His heart was beating so fast it felt like a hummingbird trapped in his ribcage.
I am an idiot, Ash thought. I just heckled the dictator of this weird world .
He got up, joining the shuffle toward the exit. His mind drifted back to home. To his mom's cooking. To Aisha. She was only seven. If his memory was wiped from her mind... would she still have his photo? Or would he vanish from the pictures too?
"Hey! Hey, you!"
Ash looked up. It was the Japanese boy. Mugino.
He was adjusting his glasses, which were slightly crooked. He looked shaken, but he was trying desperately to regain his composure.
"That was... adequate," Mugino said, sniffing haughtily. "You stood up for me. I suppose I should thank you."
Ash raised an eyebrow. "Adequate? You were trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, man."
"I was merely biding my time," Mugino lied, his face flushing red. "I was analyzing his attack patterns. But, since you intervened, I will offer you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
Mugino puffed out his chest.
"I am Mugino Kurosaki. In the real world, my allowance is higher than your parents' combined annual income. Since we are in this... primitive environment, I will need staff."
He looked Ash up and down.
"You seem sturdy. And you have a loud voice. I will hire you as my bodyguard. When my father's lawyers inevitably get me out of here, I will wire you fifty thousand dollars. Deal?"
Ash stared at him. This kid was unbelievable. He had just been magically assaulted and his first instinct was to try and hire employees.
"Pass," Ash said, continuing to walk.
Mugino scrambled to keep up. "One hundred thousand! Do you have any idea how much yen that is? You could buy a house!"
"Mugino," Ash sighed, "money doesn't work here. The guy just said that. We're all Level Zero broke."
"I can be a leader!" Mugino insisted. "I have management skills! You can be the tank, I will be the DPS. It is a flawless strategy!"
"I'm not a tank," Ash muttered
They turned a corner in the corridor.
Suddenly, a figure stepped in front of them.
It was an Usher. Identical face. Dead eyes.
It didn't move out of the way. It stood like a statue, blocking their path.
"Excuse me," Mugino demanded. "Step aside, clone."
The Usher didn't blink. It raised both hands.
"Asher Adams. Mugino Kurosaki," the synthetic voice grated out.
Ash stopped. A bad feeling, cold and slimy, coiled in his gut.
"The Head Student requests an audience."
"An audience?" Mugino brightened. "See? I told you! He probably realized who my father is and wants to apologize personally. Come along, Ash, try not to embarrass me."
"Wait," Ash said, backing up. "I don't think that's—" The Usher lunged.
It was impossibly fast. It grabbed Mugino by the collar with one hand and Ash by the shoulder with the other.
"Initiating transport," the Usher stated. The floor beneath them began to glow white.
"Hey!" Ash shouted. "Let go!"
The world dissolved into blinding white light. The sensation of gravity vanished.
Ash felt his stomach lurch into his throat, and the corridor, the students, they disappeared instantly.