The students — new and old — rushed out of the auditorium, buzzing with excitement and anticipation for the upcoming match.
The four first-years followed suit, still in awe of what they’d just witnessed.

“Damn…”
“Can’t believe a simple orientation became such a huge event…”

Is this what being a student at Arcaria Academy is like?

Shiro remained blankly focused on the distance, so zoned out that the fact someone had been calling him slipped by unnoticed.

“Hel-lo? Earth to the stars.”
“Are you there?”

A literal glowing ball of brightness waved its hand at him.
Not blinding because of light — blinding because of whatever she was.

“…Huh?”
“Oh, sorry, Shindo. Just got a little distracted.”
“…Gen Zero.”

(She giggled softly.)
He. He.
“I get how you feel. They, who are considered the pinnacle of this generation…”
“…Breathtaking. I wish I could meet one of them up close.”
“Their Fate control… it’s like watching art come alive.”

Please let me meet a member of Gen Zero. Pretty please.

She prayed into the void of her mind, silently begging the powers above to answer.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get to meet them eventually.”
“Well… right after I challenge them to a fight.”

Sachi chimed in with her own form of comfort, casually reading his mind like it was some shared hobby. Honestly, with how close they were, she probably could.

Pause.

“Word of advice? Be careful what you wish for.”
“Some wishes shouldn’t be granted.”
“Some prayers really shouldn’t be answered.”
“But… this is my story. So obviously we’re granting and answering everything.”

(Round of applause for your narrator, everybody. Go on. I’ll wait.)

Unpause.

I’ve only known her for a few hours.
She’s the first person I’ve ever met who actively seeks humiliation.
And possibly a death wish.

“There’s no way she’s mentally stable.”
“No way in hell she’s even remotely normal.”

Unfortunately, those whispers didn’t stay internal for long.
They were picked up by the wind — and promptly delivered straight into Sachi’s ears.

“Hey, Starry Boy…”
“Wanna see what normal looks like?”

Her tone was soft. Calming, even.
Which, if you know anything about chaotic people, means you’re about to be sent to the shadow realm.
…Probably.

“Nope. I know what normal looks like. No need to show me anything. Ever.”

And of course, what kind of friend would not tease you after narrowly avoiding complete annihilation?

“Smooth, dude. Real smooth.”
“Ohhh, look at me, I’m Shiro! I know what normal looks like~”

(Shiro shook his head, annoyed.)
Sigh.
“Seriously, man. You act so childish.”
“You wanna take her on or something?”

“No way. As a proud Kawamura, we know when to step away from danger.”

Also because I’m a coward.
Let’s be real — I’m a full-time Karo user.
No Fate. No cheat codes. Just vibes.

Pause.

“Honestly, I technically made this guy… but damn, he’s got phenomenal self-awareness.”
“Genius-level activities, I say.”

Unpause.

“So… what now?”
“We’ve got like three whole hours to kill.”

Shiro, our main character, everyone — unable to plan anything unless fate literally dropkicks him into it. Thankfully, he happened to run into the human embodiment of curiosity and sparkles.

(Shindo clapped her hands.)
Clap!
“Oh! Why don’t we explore the school’s facilities?”
“They say Arcaria Academy has the most advanced setup in all of Phavorius!”

“Of course she’d have the best idea.”
“Honestly, you could learn a thing or two, Mr. Main Character.”

“Mind your own damn business!”
“I can take initiative when I want to.”
“You think just because you’re an omnipotent voice you’re all-powerful and all-knowing—”
“Well—”

And then he got cut off. Probably because to the outside world, he’s just yelling at himself.

“Ummm, are you alright?”
“Is something wrong?”

Shindo. Sweet, sweet Shindo — casually being the cutest thing alive with one concerned look.
It was enough to hit the brakes on Shiro’s mental meltdown.

Cough.
“Ya-ya, I’m fine. No worries.”
“You know, just thinking out loud… that’s all.”

Ha. Ha.
“Yeah, let’s check out the facilities.”

Can we move on now? I’m just embarrassing myself at this point.

“Dude… was it the voice?”

“Yes, dude. It was the voice.”

The two girls exchanged a look — one full of concern, the other probably not even familiar with the concept of sympathy.

“Miss Shindo, may I have the honor of sending him flying?”

Please say yes. Please let me launch that starry boy into orbit.

“Sachi, I’ve told you to stop calling me that.”
“Also — no. He is a friend. We do not hurt friends.”
“…As you wish.”

Boooo.
I wanted to send him flying for worrying Shindo.
Whatever. He’s lucky I only listen to her.
Otherwise?
He’d be splattered on the wall by now.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance.”

Thanks, weird voice!

“…Hmmmm. I sense danger incoming.”

(He casually shrugged.)
“Probably just imagining it.”

“I wish this kid well when an actual threat shows up.”
“Because lord knows I won’t be helping.”

“Well, let’s head off. I think the Arcaria Research Lab is nearby.”

He. He.
“Let’s go, come on, Sachi.”

“As you wish, Shindo.”

(Daichi placed a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.)
“Wow…”
“What a way to become the leader.”

“Shut it, dude. Like you’re any better.”

“…Fair enough.”

Off they went on their little expedition around the academy.

Pause.

“Now you’re expecting a cut to the next scene and maybe a chapter transition, huh?”
“But…”
“Not this time.”
“They’re going exploring — but I’m only skipping to the end of that little tour.”
“Relax, you’ll learn about the other facilities later.”
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

(It absolutely does not.)

“Hey. Let me cook.”

(Sure, chef. Whatever you say.)

Unpause.

They had explored nearly 99% of the entire campus.
Every hallway, courtyard, and suspicious broom closet had been checked.

But that last 1%?
That was the problem.

That last percent was the catalyst.
The beginning of something far bigger.
You could say it was… fate.

(Shiro trembled.)
Brrrrr.
“Do you guys feel that? I’m getting shivers.”

(Daichi nodded in agreement.)
“You’re right. Something’s off about this place.”
“As a Kawamura, I can sense it.”

“Oh shut up, cowards. Starry Boy — grow a spine. Normo — stop throwing your last name around like it’s a skill.”
“We’re literally twenty feet away.”

Both boys stared at Sachi. Emotionally bruised. Too afraid to argue.

“Come on, Sachi. What did I say about being nice?”

“Yes, Ms Shindo. I know, I know.”
“I’m just saying — how can boys be such cowards?”

Sigh.
“Sorry… she’s always like that. I hope she didn’t hurt your feelings too badly.”

And of course, when a cute girl apologizes sweetly to two teenage boys?
Instant brain-reset.

“Us?”
“No way, right Shiro?”

“Y-Yeah! Totally. It was just a joke.”

(She gave a sincere bow.)
“Thank you for being so forgiving.”

She’s cute, respectful, calm, and sweet.
Hey. Omnipotent voice. Mind throwing me a bone?
Just one?

“I’ll give it a thought.”
“No promises, though.”

A thought is enough. I’ll take that as a win.

“So, mind telling me why we’re standing in front of death’s door?”

Not far from them was a door.
And not just any door.

This one was high-security. Required three separate forms of ID.
Oh, and it was made of pure Gharonion — a ridiculously sturdy ore mined from the depths of the underground. Did I mention the warning signs? Because yeah. There were many.

“Like seriously — why?”

“Shut it, Starry Boy. This is Gen Zero’s classroom.”
“If we camp here, we might get to meet one of them.”

“You realize what you just said, right?”

“Obviously. I get to challenge Gen Zero. Shindo gets to meet them.”
“Win-win.”

She’s insane.
Like, not even the fun kind of insane.
The send-her-to-a-shrink kind.

“This is a terrible idea in every way, shape, and form.”

“Sachi… maybe we should listen to him?”

Shindo’s voice carried a hint of disappointment, like something precious to her had just been lightly stepped on.

Ahem.
“You know… maybe we can wait a little. There’s still 45 minutes before the match.”
“So… 30 minutes of waiting should be fine.”

So easily swayed.
Just one sad tone from Shindo and he folds faster than a lawn chair.

“Really, dude? You just set us up for judgment day.”

“It’s not my fault! It’s hard to say no to that face!”

“Besides — you’d have done the same in my shoes.”

“…Touché.”

These two are just one brain cell split between two bodies.

The group stepped closer to the door.
Ignoring every single warning sign like professional red-flag chasers.

Etched on the metal: “Class Zero.”
Below it, scribbled in crayon:
“Property of Gen Zero. Stay away if you know what’s good for you.”

(Shiro nervously chuckled.)
Ha. Ha.
“Well. That’s not ominous at all.”

It didn’t help. If anything, it might’ve caused what happened next.

“Wow…”
“Gen Zero’s very own classroom. I wonder what it’s like inside.”

Of course Shindo was starry-eyed.
Over a door. A literal door.

“Ohh, I hope there’s enough space to use as a battlefield.”
“That would be hella fun.”
“Hey, Normo — between me and Gen Zero… who wins?”

Oh no. Poor Daichi.
What can he say to that?

(He tripped over his words..)
“Um-uh, well, you see… it depends on the situation…”
“What exactly is the situation?”

While Sachi interrogated Daichi like he owed her money—
Shindo inched closer to the door, eyes wide with innocent hope.
And just like that… wish granted.

BEEP. CLUNK. VMMMM—KSHHHHHK.

The door slid open.
A cold wind burst from within, dropping the temperature by five degrees instantly.

“EEEEK—!”

Shindo jumped at the sudden appearance of a figure in the doorway, almost falling but was caught.

Pause.

“Who do you think saved her?”
“Here’s a hint.”
“It wasn’t the main character.”

Unpause.

Just as she was about to fall, the figure reached out and caught her with ease.
Their eyes met. Soft maroon eyes stared up in surprise.
Pale frost-blue eyes gazed down — calm, unreadable.

“…You alright?”

The question was asked with the cold presence of a blizzard, but the voice was as calm as still water.