As Elius stepped down from the demonstration platform, the crowd didn't part like the sea—no, it swelled and surged around him, like he had become the center of gravity in a world full of drifting meteors. And he could hear them.
Every single one of them.
The voices weren't whispers anymore.
They were electric currents of excitement, laced with envy, awe, confusion, and thinly veiled greed.
"He's so lucky…"
"Radiant Man literally just said he could hurt him! What the hell!?"
"Isn't that insane? Radiant Man… said that about a first-year! A freshman!"
"He didn't even do anything that flashy. Just one sword! What does that even mean?"
"But Radiant Man said it. That means it has to be true."
"He's probably some secret weapon. Maybe a government project. Maybe even Radiant Man's son?"
"No way! No way! But… he does have blonde hair…"
"Ugh, I'm so jealous I could puke."
"He's the golden boy now…"
Elius kept walking.
His footsteps were light, quiet, and unhurried—but his heart was pounding like a war drum inside his chest.
Every compliment felt like a curse.
Every voice that called him "lucky" sounded like a death sentence. Every whisper that said "awesome" echoed like chains being wrapped around his future.
They didn't understand.
They saw light. Glory. Power.
But all Elius saw was fire. Consequences. Pain.
He clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he walked through the sea of students who barely noticed his growing fury. If even one villain heard of this… if even one underground organization caught wind of it… they would come.
They would come for the boy who could hurt Radiant Man.
And worse, they would come for his mother.
Elius's hand curled into a fist, the tension biting into his knuckles until the skin pulled tight and blood stopped flowing to his fingertips.
His mother had already lived a life of caution. Of fear. Of hiding.
And now, Radiant Man—his own father—had tossed her into the spotlight alongside him, dragging her into danger just for his twisted sense of Solarion bloodline training.
That old bastard!
No, he had only gotten crueler.
"Damn it…" Elius muttered under his breath, the words like venom between his teeth.
He wasn't just pissed.
He was boiling.
Inside his head, gears turned furiously. Plans. Calculations. Strategies.
I need to grow stronger. Fast. I need resources. Techniques. A way to hide. A way to strike back.
I need insurance. I need power no one understands. I need to stay ahead of him.
If they come for me, fine. But if they touch my mother… I'll burn them all.
He took a sharp breath and forced his expression back into cold neutrality.
Then, from the side of the crowd, he saw a familiar bulky figure waving enthusiastically.
"Elius! Bro! BROOOOO!!!"
It was Rockson.
Rockson had somehow elbowed his way out of the sea of murmuring students and now stood with both arms raised above his head, grinning like a fool who had just won a lottery.
Elius walked over.
The crowd parted again, this time with students whispering even louder when they saw the "chosen one" walking among them like a comet on fire. Some stepped away out of respect.
Others leaned in to get a closer look.
Some even raised their phones—half in admiration, half in preparation for uploading content that would go viral in minutes.
But Elius ignored them all.
Rockson's smile widened to a point of ridiculousness, eyes shining with literal stars.
"BRO! That was… that was—INSANE!!" Rockson exploded like an overfilled soda bottle. "Did you hear what Radiant Man said!? DID YOU HEAR IT!? HE SAID YOU COULD HURT HIM! THE! RADIANT! MAN!!! AAAAAAARRGGHHHH!!"
He jumped and twisted in the air like he was being electrocuted by raw hype energy.
"Dude! DUDE! I can't even… my mind is still spinning! You gotta tell me—was that sword thing some kind of family secret? A lost martial art?
"Did you train in the mountains!? Was it a bloodline thing? Wait—are you even real? Are you even from this planet!?!"
Rockson grabbed his own cheeks and pulled on them, spinning in circles.
"I can't believe I sat next to you on the bus! That means I'm lucky! This must be fate! Destiny! Elius, my man, my hero! You're gonna be a legend!
"I'm talking action figures! Posters! TV shows! You'll be the face of every billboard in the city! You'll have fan clubs—FAN. CLUBS. Do you understand that!?"
He gasped dramatically and held up his massive hands as if conjuring a vision.
"They'll write songs about you! They'll name schools after you! Heck, even villains are probably sweating right now. Imagine them watching the livestream like, 'Oh no, we're screwed. There's a new boss in town!' HAHAHA!"
Rockson flung an imaginary cape over his shoulder and puffed his chest.
"And that moment when the sword clang! blocked the pebble?! OHHHHH! You looked like a flipping anime protagonist! The hair, the robe, the silent stare of doom! It was chef's kiss, bro! CH-HEF'S KISS!"
Despite everything, Elius said nothing.
He just stood there, expression unreadable.
Silent.
Thinking.
But Rockson didn't stop.
"Oh! Oh! Do you think you'll get invited to that elite hero program? You have to! I bet every agency is calling the academy right now. Heck, maybe even Radiant Man will—"
"Rockson," Elius finally said, voice low.
"Y-yeah?" Rockson froze, realizing he may have gone overboard.
Elius didn't even look him in the eye.
"Just… stop."
Rockson blinked. "Right… sorry. Just excited. You know?"
Elius gave a brief nod, then let out a long breath, trying to keep the storm inside from leaking out.
The last thing he needed was attention.
He had enough of that now.
He didn't want to be a hero.
He wanted to survive.
And he wanted his mother to survive.
But before he could say another word, a sound sliced clean through the moment like a knife through silence.
"Erhmn."
It wasn't loud.
And coming from just behind them.
Elius's eyes narrowed.
Rockson turned slowly.
The echo of the crowd had barely faded when two figures pushed through the sea of students with confident strides—Blake and his equally intimidating brother.
Their uniforms were crisp, their stares unflinching.
The tension in the air thickened as they approached Elius, whose golden hair caught the sunlight like a flare of defiance. Blake's sharp canines glinted when he spoke.
"You earned your arrogance," Blake said, folding his arms with a smug nod. "Radiant Man himself confirmed it... but don't think this is over. I'll surpass you. I'll beat you at your best."
His brother grunted in agreement. "We won't be second to a sword Esper."
Rockson leaned in, nudging Elius with a grin. "They're fans, dude. Blake's been a Radiant Man simp since birth. You should feel honored."
Elius didn't reply. His expression was unreadable, a mask forged from years of internal pressure. Though his heart was heavy with apprehension, he didn't show it. Not here. Not now.
More students began to trickle toward him, like moths to flame. A tall girl with flame-orange hair approached with a smile. "Elius, right? That was seriously cool. Congrats."
Another boy with a thick accent clapped him on the shoulder. "Can't wait to train with you, man. I'm gonna catch up."
Dozens more followed. Some were curious.
Others were clearly trying to get on his good side.
A few made quiet vows to surpass him, their pride unable to stomach being left in his shadow.
Elius stood silently among them all. He nodded politely, offered tight-lipped smiles, but said little.
His mind was racing.
He wasn't basking in this spotlight—it was burning him alive.
He knew what this meant.
He knew his father.
Now that Radiant Man had publicly acknowledged him, the news would spread like wildfire.
Journalists would dig into his background.
People would ask questions.
Villains—especially those who'd lost to Radiant Man or hated his existence—would soon begin sniffing around for secrets. And if they believed Elius could hurt the invincible Radiant Man...
They'd come for him.
But worse… they'd come for his mother.
His eyes darkened with a storm of thoughts. He had to get stronger. Not just for himself, but for her. He couldn't afford to be weak. Not anymore.
Suddenly, Rockson snapped him out of it with a slap on the back and his usual booming voice.
"Bro!! You freakin' SLAYED that dummy! Like, whoosh, BANG! Straight through the head, like a freakin' lightsaber with ADHD! And Radiant Man? Did you see his face? I thought he was gonna propose, man! That was insane! And everyone's looking at you like you just beat God in a fistfight!"
Rockson threw up his hands, nearly hitting a passing student.
"I mean, I knew you were cool and mysterious with your robe and calm vibes, but now? Bro, you're like the main character! I can already hear the anime opening in my head!"
Elius let out a slow breath and managed a quiet, "Thanks."
It wasn't much, but it was all he could offer. Before Rockson could keep raving, a loud throat-clearing—"Erhmn"—cut through the chatter.
Everyone turned to see Professor Boom standing on the raised platform again, his arms folded, chest puffed out, cape billowing from a conjured gust of wind that probably wasn't even necessary. His shades gleamed as he began to speak.
"Listen up, all of you!" he bellowed, his voice exploding across the arena like a bass-heavy subwoofer fused with a thunderclap. "The entrance evaluation has concluded! You've been divided into two categories: Sidekicks and Superheroes!"
The crowd leaned in. Some held their breath.
Professor Boom continued, each syllable smashing into the students with enough force to vibrate bones. "Now, listen carefully, because this part ain't a joke! This academy... ain't a freakin' daycare! It's a forge! A battlefield where we temper raw ore into legends!"
He pointed a finger toward the newly identified superheroes. "You lot, the ones labeled 'Superheroes'—that means you've been deemed combat-ready! That means your powers, your instincts, your potential... they qualify you for real-world engagements!"
His tone sharpened, lashing toward the other side. "And Sidekicks! That title ain't an insult, it's a shield! It means your ability may not be suited for the frontlines—YET! Maybe you're a tactical genius, a healer, a support specialist, or even an evolution-type ability that ain't bloomed!"
He paced like a tiger, his boots slamming the ground like drumbeats of a coming war.
"Sidekicks can still attend this academy! You're still heroes! You'll train, you'll learn, and when you're ready—you'll join the ranks! But!"
He raised a single finger like a gavel.
"You are restricted from entering dimensional riftss alone. Why? Because dimensional riftss ain't theme parks! They're goddamn death zones! You don't know what lives inside until you see it rip your friend's head off!"
The students flinched.
"If you're a Sidekick and wanna enter a dimensional rifts? Fine! But you go with a certified Superhero! Someone strong enough to protect you!"
A murmur ran through the crowd, a mix of relief, frustration, and hunger to climb higher. Some Superheroes straightened their backs with pride. Sidekicks clenched their fists with determination.
Elius listened silently. Rockson seemed thoughtful for once.
"Guess that means you're going in first," he muttered.
Elius didn't answer. His eyes were locked on Professor Boom.
"Now!" Professor Boom shouted again, jabbing a finger into the sky. "For your final trial of the day—Dimensional Rift Selection!"
The students blinked in confusion.
"You think the real world's gonna wait for you to graduate?" Boom scoffed. "Hell no! That's why this academy's partnered with stabilized dimensional riftss—Dimensional Rifts that we've tamed! Each of you Superheroes will choose one to explore under observation!"
The ground beneath the arena began to shimmer, geometric lines forming arcane patterns glowing blue, purple, and red. Portals started to appear—each one swirling with unique energy. Forested dimensional riftss. Desert ruins. Floating islands. Underground crypts.
"Each of these Rifts is scaled for F-rankers, and will test your combat, teamwork, survival, and grit! Superheroes will go in. Sidekicks will observe and provide strategic support, but they ain't entering the Rift unless authorized by faculty!"
Professor Boom's voice was unwavering. His stare, intense.
"Now form your teams. Because once you pick a Rift... you either come back stronger—"
He paused, letting the silence build.
"—or you don't come back at all."