[Vol 1.] Chapter 2: First Day at Lunaria Hero School

The alarm blared with merciless determination. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP—CRACK. Yuki’s hand shot out and slammed the alarm clock straight into the wall. A faint puff of dust rose from where plastic met drywall. She sat up slowly, squinting at the sun spilling through the curtains like it had something to prove. “First day already…?” she muttered, voice low, groggy. Dragging her feet across the floor, she entered the bathroom. A hot shower helped chase the sleep from her limbs, but not the fatigue from yesterday’s pre-entry evaluations. She didn’t bother doing much with her hair—just dried it out and let it fall naturally over her shoulders. She pulled on her usual outfit: A plain beige shirt, soft and loose. Her signature long black jacket, simple but sharp. And a pair of relaxed-fit black pants, comfortable enough for a fight, but clean enough to avoid attention. No flashy accessories. No hero branding. Just Yuki being... Yuki. She checked herself in the mirror briefly. Her icy blue eyes held no excitement, just quiet focus. She adjusted her sleeves, one hand slipping into her pocket. “Let’s get this over with.” Outside, the city was already buzzing. Hover trams zipped overhead, and holographic banners flared up over buildings advertising Lunaria Hero School's opening ceremony. She passed other students on her walk — some nervous, some excited, others already showing off their powers. But Yuki kept walking. Hands in her pockets. Eyes forward. Expression unreadable. This wasn’t a dream. This was the beginning. And she wasn’t here to make friends. She was here to rise. Yuki crossed the last street before Lunaria’s main gate came into view—an elegant arch of silver and blue crystal, shimmering with faint lunar energy. A soft breeze tugged at her jacket, but she didn’t flinch. Her steps were steady, unhurried. Focused. Then—“BOO!!” A hand suddenly clapped down on her shoulder from behind. Yuki spun around instantly—grabbing the wrist, twisting it behind the back of her attacker in one fluid motion, her knee half-raised to strike. “OWOWOW! Chill—It’s me! It’s me!!” She blinked. “…Zack.” He gave a lopsided grin from the awkward wrist-lock, his free hand raised in surrender. Blonde, messy hair, cocky smile, and that same worn leather jacket he always wore like some street punk trying to cosplay cool. His green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Dang, Yuki. First day and you’re already trying to break my arm?” She let go. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” she muttered, shoving her hands back into her jacket pockets. “But that’s no fun!” he laughed, rubbing his shoulder dramatically. “I was expecting a jump, maybe a scream. Not a full-on tactical takedown.” Yuki rolled her eyes but said nothing. They started walking side-by-side toward the gates, the school now bustling with students pouring in. Zack, as always, couldn’t stop talking. “You see the size of that kid earlier? Dude looked like he benched a truck. Bet he’s an Ironclad. Or worse—a Lunarch. If we end up in the same class, I’m sitting behind you.” “You talk too much.” “Correction—I talk just the right amount for both of us.” A small, rare smirk flickered across Yuki’s lips—barely there and gone in a heartbeat. Zack’s grin widened. He noticed. “Ah, there it is. You smiled. First time in like… a year. This school might actually be magic.” They stepped through the glowing gates together, into the courtyard of Lunaria Hero School. Towering spires gleamed in the sunlight, and students buzzed with nervous excitement. From here on out, things were about to get real. The morning sun filtered through Lunaria’s towering crystal spires, casting shimmering beams across the sprawling courtyard. Students gathered eagerly, their ranks newly assigned, buzzing with anticipation. Principal Selene stood on the central dais once more, her voice calm but resolute as she addressed the crowd. “Cadets, Phase Trainees, and all ranks beyond—welcome to your first day at Lunaria Hero School.” Her eyes scanned the sea of faces, shining with purpose. “Your placement today reflects your performance during the Entry Trials and your potential as protectors of the realms.” She raised her hand, and a glowing sigil hovered above the courtyard, projecting a map of the school. “Cadets—rank E—will begin their lessons in the Foundational Wing. This area will focus on basic combat training, control of elemental energy, and discipline.” A wave of younger students nodded and started moving toward a cluster of gleaming silver buildings on the east side. “Phase Trainees and Phase Users—ranks D and C—will train in the Ascension Halls, where your skills will be honed with more advanced magic, tactics, and teamwork.” Groups of students exchanged excited whispers as they made their way toward the central towers. “Rising Lunars and Full Lunars—ranks B and A—will take part in specialized missions and leadership seminars in the Lunar Citadel.” A few older students straightened their backs proudly, their gazes steely with determination. “And finally, Lunar Elites—rank S—are entrusted with the highest responsibilities. Your quarters and training grounds lie within the Celestial Bastion, where you will prepare for real-world challenges beyond these walls.” A hush fell over the crowd as the elite students nodded solemnly. Zack nudged Yuki as they stood among the Phase Trainees. “Well, looks like we’re in the same boat for now.” Yuki nodded, her eyes fixed on the path ahead. “Let’s make it count.” With a final sweep of her gaze, Principal Selene dismissed the crowd. Classes had begun — and the journey to becoming true Lunars was underway. Yuki followed the flow of students toward the Ascension Halls, where E ranks and D ranks were to begin their first day. The halls gleamed with polished crystal floors and walls that shimmered softly with embedded lunar glyphs, casting ethereal light over the bustling crowd. Her schedule was simple but demanding: Elemental Control and Tactical Combat — the two core classes for her rank. Her eyes widened as the reality hit her. “You’ve got to be kidding… Elemental Control!? I don’t even have power… let alone any of the Five Basic elements… that I know of…” She clenched her fists, jaw tightening. The murmurs around her made it clear she wasn’t the only one with doubts — but for her, it was more than doubt. It was a truth she couldn’t ignore. As they entered the first classroom, crystalline orbs hovered silently in midair, each glowing softly with fire, water, wind, earth, or lightning energy. Students eagerly reached out, summoning and shaping their elements with practiced ease. Yuki’s hands remained empty, trembling slightly. The instructor, a tall woman with silver hair and eyes like liquid moonlight, scanned the room and then fixed her gaze on Yuki. Her voice was calm but firm. “Elemental control is not just about raw power, Cadets. It is about understanding, focus, and will.” “Each of you will come forward and place your hand on this crystal,” the instructor announced, gesturing toward a large, multifaceted gem pulsing softly with an inner light. “It will reveal your elemental affinity—and measure the strength of your Power Level.” One by one, students rose and stepped forward. As their palms met the crystal’s smooth surface, it flared to life, glowing in a color that matched their element. Numbers shimmered above the gem, announcing their power levels for all to hear. When it was Zack’s turn, he stood confidently and strode to the crystal. His hand settled on it with ease. The crystal’s light deepened into a crackling dark blue, arcs of electricity sparking and dancing across its surface. “Zack,” the instructor intoned, voice steady, “your element is Lightning, and your Power Level is six thousand, one hundred and thirty-two.” A ripple of impressed murmurs spread through the room. Zack grinned, flashing his trademark cocky smile, and sauntered back to his seat. Yuki heart sank. When her turn came, the crystal remained dim—no color, no numbers. But then something happened the crystal began glowing a faint light blue color, the room began getting colder. “Is it just me or is it getting older?” a student questioned, the Crystal, Shattered, bit of shards went flying. Yuki fell to the ground in shock. he instructor’s eyes widened in alarm, her calm demeanor cracking for the first time. She stepped forward swiftly, voice sharp yet controlled. “This… has never happened before.” She glanced down at the shattered crystal shards scattered across the floor, then back at Yuki, concern flickering in her silver eyes. “Are you alright, Cadet?” Zack’s grin vanished instantly. His playful confidence gave way to genuine surprise as he took a cautious step closer to Yuki. “Yuki… what just happened? That crystal— it broke because of you?” Around them, a low murmur swelled into uneasy whispers and gasps. Some students exchanged nervous glances, others stared openly, a mix of curiosity and fear in their eyes. One boy whispered, “She’s a null, right? But this… this is something else.” A girl nearby muttered, “Could she be some kind of anomaly? A danger?” The classroom’s atmosphere shifted—tension and uncertainty replacing the usual competitive excitement. Yuki’s heart pounded, every eye on her. But beneath the shock, a flicker of something new stirred inside her—a quiet defiance that refused to be ignored. Yuki forced herself to rise, brushing shards of crystal from her sleeves. Her voice was steady, though her mind raced. “I don’t know what happened,” she admitted, eyes scanning the shattered fragments. “I never felt anything before. No powers, no element… nothing.” She met Zack’s concerned gaze and then the wary eyes of her classmates. “But maybe… maybe that’s not the whole truth.” A flicker of resolve sparked in her voice. “I don’t have a power you can measure. But I’m not nothing. I’m here to prove it.” The room was silent, the weight of her words hanging heavy. Yuki’s heart hammered fiercely, not from fear—but from the fire of determination burning inside her. She avoided everyone’s eyes, forcing a casual shrug. “Must’ve been a flaw in the crystal itself,” she said, voice light, trying to keep the situation from spiraling. “Maybe it was too old or cracked inside. Not like it had anything to do with me.” Zack frowned, clearly skeptical but held back from pressing further. The instructor knelt carefully beside the crystal shards, her expression troubled. “This is unprecedented,” she murmured, eyes narrowing. “A crystal strong enough to withstand centuries… shattering without external force?” Whispers filled the room as students exchanged uneasy looks, but Yuki stayed silent, determined to blend into the background and avoid unwanted attention. Minutes passed in a tense silence as the instructor carefully examined the shattered crystal shards, the students whispering softly among themselves. The unusual incident hung in the air like a shadow, but gradually the class began to settle. “Very well, Cadets,” the instructor finally said, regaining her composure. “We will continue, but remain alert. Elemental control may not be your strength—especially for some—but there is much to learn beyond raw power.” Yuki exhaled slowly, muscles still tight with adrenaline. She glanced at Zack, who gave her an encouraging nod. Soon, the group was led to the next training chamber—a vast arena filled with shifting obstacles and holographic targets. “Now,” the instructor announced, “we move on to Tactical Combat. This is where your mind and body must work as one. Powers can falter, but strategy and skill will carry you.” Yuki squared her shoulders and stepped forward, ready to face this next challenge. The instructor’s voice rang out, clear and commanding. “Cadets, Tactical Combat will test your reflexes, precision, and adaptability under pressure.” The instructor’s voice echoed across the polished arena floor. “Magic won’t save you here. Only skill, timing, and raw instinct.” Yuki exhaled slowly, stepping forward as the steel gates slid open with a low hiss. Her boots clicked against the gleaming tiles. The arena was vast—lined with moving platforms, spinning barriers, pressure plates, and holographic targets flickering in and out of existence. Around her, other cadets stretched, cracked knuckles, or let glowing moon auras pulse around them like armor. Yuki had none of that. No shimmer. No spark. Just focus. A screen overhead blinked: Phase 1: Obstacle Navigation & Target Neutralization. Timer: 2:00 Minutes. Begin. A sharp buzzer blared. Yuki moved. She launched forward in a burst of speed, weaving between spinning poles, ducking under a swinging pendulum, and vaulting a chest-high barrier with fluid grace. The arena blurred around her, but her mind remained locked in. Every trap was a puzzle. Every step a calculation. A target pulsed red to her left. Pivot. She spun mid-stride and drove her palm into its center. It fizzled out with a crackle. Another appeared ahead—higher, faster. She dove into a roll, sprang up, and struck it with her elbow before landing light on her feet. Her breathing stayed even. No hesitation. No wasted motion. More targets lit up—some moving, some hovering, others popping up without warning. Yuki didn’t falter. Her body responded before her brain could catch up, a blur of strikes, spins, and counters, fists connecting with precision. In the control tower above, instructors leaned in toward their monitors. “Target response time under half a second.” “Her angles are clean. No magic support. That’s all instinct.” “She’s outpacing some of the top-tier phase users…” As the last thirty seconds ticked down, the arena shifted—the ground began moving. Platforms rose and fell. Turrets popped up, firing bursts of light to throw cadets off rhythm. Two phase users to Yuki’s right stumbled and missed their next targets. Yuki didn't blink. She jumped onto a rising platform, leapt to another mid-air, and landed in a crouch just as the final target appeared above her. She snapped upward, twisted, and drove her heel into its center. BOOM. The buzzer sounded again. The arena fell still. The timer read: 1:47.28. Yuki straightened, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. Her hands lowered, not trembling. Her expression unreadable. The silence was brief—then murmurs rose from around the edges. “Wait… she cleared it under two minutes?” “She didn’t miss a single target…” “And she’s a Null?” Yuki stepped off the arena floor without so much as a glance back. The whispers followed her like shadows—but she didn’t hear them. As the next cadet stepped onto the field, a sharp voice rang out from the observation deck above the arena. “Tactical Combat Evaluation: Cadet Yuki Takahashi.” Everyone paused. Heads turned. Even a few of the instructors stood straighter. A brief silence. Then the announcement came: Score: 98 out of 100. Time Completed: 1 minute, 47.28 seconds. All 15 targets disabled. Zero penalties. A wave of stunned murmurs swept through the observation balconies. “Holy shit…” someone whispered. “She beat the average by nearly thirty seconds.” “And she didn’t use any phase abilities…” “Nulls don’t score that high. Ever.” Zack, standing off to the side in his own training gear, broke into a wide grin. “That’s my girl,” he muttered under his breath, pride flashing in his eyes. One of the senior evaluators, a silver-haired woman with a Full Moon crest stitched into her uniform, tapped her screen and frowned thoughtfully. “She’s not just fast. She reads the room like a strategist. Every strike had intention. No panic, no lag.” Another proctor, arms crossed, added under his breath, “If that’s what a Null can do without powers, imagine what happens if she awakens.” Yuki, meanwhile, said nothing. She heard the score. She felt the weight of all the eyes now fixed on her. But her face remained calm, unreadable. Because deep down, she knew— This was just the beginning. As Yuki stepped off the arena floor, her eyes briefly met Zack’s. He gave her a two-finger salute and a cocky grin. “Tough act to follow, huh?” She didn’t smile—but the slightest twitch in her lip was enough for him. Then the instructor's voice echoed again: “Next: Cadet Zack Kazehaya. Tactical Combat phase begins. Timer: Two minutes.” The lights dimmed. The arena shifted again—barriers retracted and new obstacles rose. This time, the course was different: faster targets, unpredictable turret bursts, narrow jumps, unstable platforms. Zack rolled his shoulders, let out a quick exhale, then cracked his neck. “Let’s dance.” The buzzer blared. He shot forward like a bullet, already a blur of motion. Where Yuki was surgical, Zack was a whirlwind. He didn’t dodge the first barrier—he vaulted off it, flipping mid-air and landing hard before uppercutting the first glowing target into sparks. Turrets spun and fired at random intervals. Zack didn’t slow down—he kicked one of the fallen panels into the air, letting it intercept a burst of light while he ducked low and slid under spinning blades. “Kid’s fast,” one instructor noted. “Unpredictable,” another said. “Reckless,” a third muttered. “Or fearless.” Two targets lit up on opposite sides of the course. Instead of choosing one, Zack sprinted toward a collapsing platform and jumped—legs extended into a flying kick that hit one panel mid-air, and as the platform gave out under him, he threw a fist-sized rock at the other. Both deactivated. Cheers broke out from a few cadets watching overhead. Zack landed rough but rolled with it, dirt smearing across his jacket. A grin spread across his face. He was having fun. The arena twisted again—this time, vertical pillars rose and began spinning. Targets flickered across the tops, but the floor below was moving. Zack barely missed a beat. He used the momentum, launched off a wall, bounced off a pillar mid-spin, and reached the top with an acrobatic twist. The crowd gasped as he double-kicked the final two targets in mid-air like he was born for the sky. He landed in a crouch, one hand steadying him. The buzzer rang. 1:51.63. Dust settled. He stood tall, sweat glistening on his brow—but his smile hadn’t faded. Not for a second. “Tactical Combat Evaluation: Cadet Zack Kazehaya.” Score: 96 out of 100. Time: 1:51.63. 14 out of 15 targets disabled. One bonus point for aerial multi-hit maneuver. Gasps, applause, and disbelief followed. One of the instructors chuckled. “He fights like he’s got a death wish.” The older silver-haired examiner nodded. “No… he fights like someone who trusts his instincts completely.” Yuki stood silently at the edge, arms crossed. Zack walked past her, spinning a towel over his shoulder. “Not bad, huh?” he said with a wink. She rolled her eyes. “You missed one.” He leaned in closer with a grin. “I left it alive… out of mercy.” The sun dipped behind Lunaria’s towers, casting long shadows across the courtyard. Most cadets had left the training grounds, laughter and chatter fading into the academy halls. Yuki sat on the fountain’s edge, arms resting on her knees, quietly watching the ripples in the water. Her knuckles were still raw from the Tactical Combat test, but her thoughts were sharper than any bruise. Footsteps approached. Zack. He dropped onto the stone beside her, breathing steady, eyes distant. “You crushed it back there,” he said, nudging her shoulder. “Again.” She smirked faintly. “Tried not to show off too hard.” Zack chuckled, but the laugh faded quickly. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, tone shifting. “You ever wonder why I never use my Phase powers when we train together?” Yuki turned her head slightly, curious. “I just figured you liked fighting fair.” “I do,” he said. “But it’s more than that.” He paused, then looked her straight in the eyes. “My Moon Phase… it’s Waxing Gibbous.” Yuki raised a brow. “Focus and Foresight, right?” Zack nodded slowly. “Yeah. I see patterns. I predict movement, read intent—sometimes even before a person knows what they’ll do. In combat, it’s like everything slows down. Like I’ve already seen it all a second before it happens.” Yuki blinked, trying to process. “So… all those times you dodged my swings—” “I wasn’t lucky.” He grinned. “I just knew you’d throw that left hook every time you got annoyed.” She punched him in the arm, light but firm. “Ow. See?” he said, grinning wider. “Left hook.” Yuki stared at him for a long moment. “So why hide it?” Zack’s smile faded slightly. “Because with people like us… people always assume power is everything. That phases define us. But the reason I wanted to train with you… hang out with you… fight beside you… it’s not because of what you don’t have. It’s because of what you do. You’re the only one who doesn’t care about glow or rank. You just… fight. You just are.” Yuki didn’t speak right away. She glanced back at the rippling water, the reflection of the moon faint in its surface. “You think being Waxing Gibbous makes you better than me?” “No,” Zack said without hesitation. “I think being Waxing Gibbous is just a tool. You? You’re already a blade.” That made her smirk. “You’re getting better with words.” He nudged her again. “Tactical foresight. Comes with the phase.” She stood up, stretching her arms above her head. “Come on, Foresight Boy. You’re buying me something cold before I pass out.” Zack grinned, standing beside her. “Race you to the plaza?” “You sure you want to challenge someone with faster reflexes?” “I’m sure I want to win… even if I already know I won’t.” They took off down the path under the pale moonlight, shadows stretching and fading behind them. And for the first time, Zack didn’t feel like he had to hide who he was — not from her. The race began with laughter and flying footsteps. Yuki surged ahead, her black jacket whipping in the wind, hair catching the silver glow of the moonlight. Zack was right behind her, heart pounding—not from the run, but from how alive the moment felt. Their boots echoed against the paved path winding through the quiet Lunar Plaza. Neon signs blinked in the distance. Vending stalls flickered. The air smelled like ozone and moonsteel. Zack grinned. “You’re slowing down already?” Yuki shot him a look over her shoulder. “In your dreams.” But then—his foot hit the ground, and the world shifted. Suddenly, he wasn’t in the plaza. The moonlight flickered—then turned blood-red. He stood—no, floated—just behind a ruined battlefield. The ground was scorched, littered with shattered moonsteel and cracked pavement. A massive building lay in ruin, its center exploded, twisted steel and broken glass jutting into the sky like jagged teeth. And there—atop the debris, sitting calmly, was Yuki. Her jacket was torn, blood-streaked. Her eyes were darker. Sharper. A strange half-mask covered the lower half of her face, pale silver and jagged like the crescent of a broken moon. Behind her stood four figures, each shrouded in shadow. One hunched forward with a twisted grin. Another held a staff wreathed in red lightning. The third levitated lazily, crackling with dark aura, while the fourth leaned casually with blades resting across their shoulders—all of them laughing. Manic. Ruthless. Like they’d won something. Zack’s breath caught. What... is this? He felt the future tugging at his mind—one he hadn’t asked to see. The vision fractured. His senses snapped back as his foot slammed into the ground again, nearly stumbling. Yuki had already reached the plaza steps, turning with a triumphant grin. “Come on, Waxing Gibbous! Where’s that foresight now?” Zack blinked rapidly, sweat dripping from his brow. His heart thudded hard—not from the race, but from the vision still lingering like smoke in his thoughts. He forced a smirk. “Sorry. Got distracted by your victory pose.” Yuki rolled her eyes and offered him a hand as he caught up. “You good?” “Yeah,” Zack replied, smiling despite the tremble he felt inside. “Just... spaced out for a second.” But deep down, he knew what he saw wasn’t just imagination. It was a glimpse—brief and terrifying—of something coming. And Yuki… She wasn’t the same in that future. She was stronger. Sharper. Colder. And not alone. As the two stood under the flickering lights of the plaza, their laughter slowly faded into a comfortable silence. The city pulsed softly around them—lunar scooters in the distance, holo-ads crackling above rooftops, and the quiet hum of Tsukihara preparing to sleep. Yuki leaned back against a streetlamp, still catching her breath, eyes turned skyward. “I needed that,” she murmured. “Just… running. No pressure. No judgment.” Zack nodded slowly, his smile a little more forced now. “Yeah… me too.” But his thoughts kept returning to that glimpse of a shattered skyline. Of her—masked, distant, and surrounded by darkness. Yuki tilted her head, noticing his silence. “You sure you’re okay?” He hesitated. Then he offered a small smile. “Yeah. Just thinking.” “About what?” He looked at her—at the fire in her eyes, the strength in her stance, the unyielding defiance she carried like armor. And he swallowed the truth. For now. “Just... how far we’ve come,” he said instead. “And how far we’ve still got to go.” Yuki gave a faint nod. “Yeah. We’ll keep going. Together.” They stood there a moment longer beneath the moonlight, the plaza quiet save for the occasional breeze whispering through the alleyways. Above them, clouds drifted across the sky, veiling the moon once again. And far off in the distance, deep within the heart of the city— a flicker of lunar energy pulsed, unstable and cold. Neither of them noticed. Not yet. But the future had already begun to shift. And in the shadows of what’s to come… something was watching.