After the Smoke Clears
The students were immediately escorted back to their homes after the incident. Lionel Academy suspended all activities for the day, and the city buzzed with confusion and fear.
By the following morning, horror struck Vornis.
Five bodies—the heroes who fought Fray—were discovered laid neatly in front of the National Hero Headquarters, positioned as if in a deliberate formation. No wounds. No blood. Not a trace of the killer.
It was a message.
The entire nation erupted in panic. News reports flooded every screen, radios crackled with emergency broadcasts, and social networks exploded with speculation. The video footage of the incident—blurry and chaotic—spread like wildfire.
"Who is the blindfolded man?"
"How did he defeat heroes without touching them?"
"Is Vornis under attack?"
No one could track him.
No signal.
No trace.
It was as if he vanished from existence.
At the Arcwell Estate
That night, Luna sat with her family, trembling as she recounted every detail—the blindfold, the strange power that sealed abilities, the teleportation through objects, and the single word he left behind:
Fray.
As she spoke, Raze watched his father carefully. Roland Arcwell's expression changed—not shocked, not confused—but deeply troubled.
"Father…" Luna whispered, "You know something about that name, don't you?"
Roland remained silent for a long moment before speaking, voice heavy.
"There are names in this world that are better left buried."
His gaze hardened.
"Fray was erased from history twenty years ago. They were a threat beyond anything you can imagine."
Raze leaned forward. "What happened to them?"
Roland looked away.
"They were destroyed. Completely. And anyone who knew more than that… disappeared."
The room fell silent. Even Rose Arcwell, normally calm and composed, seemed shaken.
Rumors were already circulating outside—whispers that some heroes were involved in the tragedy twenty years ago. That justice was never truly served. That something was covered up.
And now, one survivor had returned.
Inside Vornis Hero Headquarters
An emergency meeting was called. The highest-ranking heroes gathered in a circular war room lit with red alarms.
The national top hero, Zephyr Drayden, slammed his fist on the table.
"We can't sit still while someone like this walks freely. I propose a full-scale nationwide search. Mobilize everything we have."
But others objected immediately.
"A reckless mobilization will endanger civilians!"
"We don't know how many are with him!"
"We don't even know what his second Nexas is capable of!"
Arguments collided like thunder.
After hours, they reached a reluctant decision:
No large-scale operation.
Use surveillance and tracking technology.
Identify him first. Observe before confronting.
Because no one knew whether Fray was truly alone—
or leading an unseen army.
And most terrifying of all:
If one man could slaughter mid-level heroes without using Nexas…
What could he do when he actually used strength?
The meeting adjourned with heavy silence.
A single man had shaken the entire nation.
Returning to Lionel Academy
The next morning, Raze walked toward the school gates. Reporters swarmed outside. Helicopters hovered overhead. Security doubled. Students whispered anxiously.
Roger approached him, trying to lighten the mood—though his voice shook slightly.
"So much for a peaceful semester, huh? We're already living inside a thriller."
Raze forced a small smile.
"Looks like the real world isn't waiting for us to grow stronger."
Rain joined them quietly.
"Fray… He didn't kill for chaos. He left a message. This isn't random."
Raze's eyes narrowed.
He didn't know who Fray was.
He didn't know why the heroes were attacked.
But he knew one thing:
This was only the beginning.
And whatever storm was coming—
he would face it.
***********************
Astra's Voice — "The Weight of Wings"
My name is Astra Noire.
I was born into an ordinary, peaceful family—one father, one mother, and an older brother.
We were never rich, never poor. Just… comfortable. Warm. Safe.
We laughed together, ate together, dreamed together.
Back then, life was simple.
My brother, Arin, always wanted to become a hero.
He wasn't a genius, and he wasn't blessed with anything remarkable. But he had a dream.
And he worked harder than anyone I've ever known.
When he awakened his Nexas at the age of ten, we celebrated.
I was six at the time, watching him jump—just a little further, a little higher than normal people, much so, that it can be called a nexas ability.
It wasn't flashy. It wasn't strong.
But it was his power, and he treasured it.
Our parents encouraged him:
"You don't need to be the strongest to be a hero."
He believed them.
He held onto that hope with everything he had.
Until the day I awakened my Nexas.
I was eight.
My mother and I were crossing the street on a sunny afternoon when a truck—its driver asleep—raced toward us uncontrollably.
I didn't think.
I didn't plan.
I simply raised my hands.
And the world shattered.
The impact should have killed us.
Instead, the entire front of the truck crumpled like paper—stopped by a little girl's hands.
A girl who hadn't even realized she could do such a thing.
My mother screamed my name—then hugged me, trembling.
And the world around us changed instantly.
I discovered I could fly.
I could move faster than a bullet train.
I possessed strength beyond human understanding.
People called me "The Child Blessed by the Gods."
They looked at me like I was something divine—untouchable, perfect, destined for greatness.
Everyone celebrated me.
Everyone except one person.
My brother.
The day he saw what I could do, something inside him broke.
He tried to smile… but his eyes trembled.
He stopped talking about becoming a hero.
Stopped training.
Stopped dreaming.
And eventually, he stopped looking at me.
I wasn't arrogant.
I wasn't trying to outshine him.
I loved my brother. I admired him.
I never wanted to take away his dream.
But I did.
The more the world praised me,
the more he disappeared inside himself.
Our home stayed the same, but it didn't feel warm anymore.
My wings lifted me higher…
and left him behind.
Years passed like that.
Praise. Expectations. Pressure. Loneliness.
Until the day of the entrance exam to Lionel Academy.
The day I met a boy who stood on stage without wings…
Raze Arcwell.
A boy with no Nexas.
No shining aura.
No overwhelming power.
Yet he stood with his head held high,
in front of thousands who looked down on him.
He looked at the crowd and said—
"Power isn't what makes a hero."
"I'll show you what it truly means to be one."
For the first time in years…
my heart moved.
Watching him felt like watching my brother before he lost hope—
a version of what he could have become.
And before I realized it…
I wanted to see how far that powerless boy could soar.
Perhaps…
wings are not only for those born with them.
Perhaps heroes are not decided by destiny.
And for the first time,
I found myself looking forward to the future.
"The day I met that boy…"
"…everything began to change."
***********************************
One week had passed since the horrifying incident at the Hero Headquarters.
The academy was quieter than usual—students spoke in hushed tones, teachers carried tension in their eyes, and the public still grieved the loss of five heroes.
But Lionel Academy could not afford to stop.
The world was watching.
Inside Class 1-H (Hero Department), Celeste Ardyn entered the room, her expression calm but resolute.
"Good morning, everyone."
The class replied in unison.
Celeste scanned the room before speaking, voice firm:
"To restore morale and prove that the next generation of heroes is strong, the academy will be holding a Combat Ranking Tournament. It will determine your official rankings and evaluate your progress."
Murmurs rippled across the classroom.
She continued:
"It will take place next week. All Hero Department students are required to participate. Additionally, the top-performing students from the Auxiliary Cadets—support-track fighters—will also compete."
Eyes widened.
Auxiliary Cadets rarely fought hero-class students.
Roger leaned closer to Raze.
"Man, those guys are starving for a chance. They'll do anything to move up."
Celeste raised her hand.
"The winner will receive a reward personally presented by the top hero of Vornis. It is an opportunity none of you should waste."
Gasps and excited whispers filled the air.
"The matchups will be chosen randomly. Injuries will be handled by Professor Hale, our healer. Withdrawals are allowed—however…" Her tone sharpened.
"…cowardice will damage your evaluation far more than defeat."
Raze felt his heartbeat steady.
Another challenge. Another chance to prove himself.
Celeste concluded:
"Now, head to the main hall to see the match brackets."
◆ ◆ ◆
Walking to the Hall
Students poured into the corridor, energy buzzing stronger than electricity.
Bam stretched with a smirk.
"Finally! Something real to punch!"
Zack cracked his knuckles.
"Just don't give me Roger again. That bastard ran circles around me last spar."
Roger put a hand dramatically on his chest.
"That's because I'm elegance incarnate. Momentum Shift supremacy, gentlemen."
Astra glanced at Raze, cool and curious.
"I want to see how you fight against a person, Arcwell. Robots don't feel fear."
Raze smiled calmly.
"Neither do I."
Rain offered a gentle nod.
"You'll do well. I believe in you."
Roger elbowed Raze with a wicked grin.
"Look at that—girls cheering you on already? I'm proud, man."
Raze sighed deeply.
"Roger… stop talking."
The class burst into laughter, the tension lifting—if only for a moment.
◆ ◆ ◆
Tournament Matchup Board
They reached the Main Hall, where a massive digital screen flickered to life.
Round 1 Matchups
Name after name scrolled slowly down the glowing surface.
Students leaned in, breaths held, anticipation building like a drumbeat.
Zack muttered,
"Come on… not Bam… not Bam…"
Bam grinned wider.
"Yes, please be me."
Roger crossed his fingers dramatically.
"Please give me someone slow. I enjoy bullying."
Astra folded her arms.
"…whoever it is, they will fall."
The list slowed—rows stopping one by one until finally…
There it was:
Raze Arcwell vs. —
SCREEN GLITCH
[DATA LOADING]
MATCHUP PENDING...
A stunned silence swept through the hall.
Roger blinked.
"The hell? Pending?"
Rain frowned.
"That's… not normal."
Bam's expression hardened.
"Whoever that is… they're strong."
Astra narrowed her eyes.
"This just became interesting."
Raze stared at the blank space beside his name—heart steady, gaze sharp.
Another unknown challenge.
And the tournament was only one week away.