The oppressive silence that had descended after the vice-principal's speech lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the usual pre-class chatter. Ajal, ever stoic, sat amongst his classmates, the weight of the impending battles pressing down on them like a suffocating cloak. A tense awareness rippled through the room – a realization that this wasn't a game, but a brutal crucible that would forge them into warriors.
Professor Jenkin, a seasoned warrior with a steely gaze, entered the classroom. His sharp eyes swept across the room, taking each student in with a chilling intensity, as if assessing their worth on the battlefield. "Welcome to Battle Class," he announced, his voice a gravelly rasp. "Here at Morningstar, we train warriors – the vanguard against monstrous threats. We operate in mixed groups, honing teamwork as a vital weapon. But make no mistake, this is a meritocracy. Brutal battle exams will determine your rankings."
"There are two ranking systems to keep in mind," he explained. "The first is your class rank, which will be determined by your performance in exams, projects, and practical exercises. This ranking will position you amongst your Battle Class peers." He scanned the room, his gaze lingering for a moment on Ajal before continuing. "The second is the overall academy ranking. This prestigious list ranks every student at Morningstar Academy, regardless of class or year. It's a coveted position, a testament to one's raw talent and honed skills."
A stark contrast flickered across the students' faces. Fear clouded some, while determination hardened others. But Yaw's reaction was different. A feral grin spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with a bloodthirsty anticipation. It sent a shiver down his classmates' spines, a disquieting premonition of things to come. Ajal remained impassive.
Whispers then rippled through the class about how strong the top 10 on the list were and the weakest being in the Ascended stage of the Astral Rank and the top 3 being in the Transcendent stage of the Astral rank.
Silence. Professor Jenkins said, as he launched into a history lesson, a grim chronicle of humanity's struggle. The first dimensional crack, a gaping wound on the African continent, had unleashed a torrent of horrors. Humanity, ill-prepared with conventional weapons, crumbled before the onslaught. Cities fell, continents were overrun.
The second crack, spewing forth even more formidable creatures, plunged humanity into despair. Within two decades, eighty percent of the population had been eradicated. Yet, amidst the ashes, hope flickered – the emergence of the first Dimextian, Akomfo Anokye Asante, the "Dark Flame God," who turned the tide. More individuals with extraordinary abilities surfaced and would be later known as The Greats - The 12 Great Dimextians, the first generation of Dimextians.
A collaborative effort between fallen governments and the fledgling Dimextians led to the "Armageddon War," a turning point in the conflict. Humanity, finally wielding the power to fight back, began to reclaim lost territories. Over seven decades, the World Government, a unified force, established fifteen territories for human habitation. Each territory was overseen by a "Great Dimextian," a testament to their prowess.
But the reprieve was short-lived. The third dimensional crack opened, revealing the Kiwis, a race of white humanoids. Unlike their monstrous predecessors, the Kiwis sought communication. This interaction unveiled the terrifying truth: there were thirteen dimensions in total, ours at the precarious center. An invisible barrier had previously kept them separate, but now, it had crumbled.
This merging meant more cracks, more potential threats. The two closest dimensions, unfortunately, harbored hostile creatures. Humanity, facing an unknown number of enemies, formed the Federation to recruit Dimextians and established Morningstar Academy, a joint effort by the government and ten powerful families – descendants of the 12 Great Dimextians.
The Kiwis became humanity's first allies, fostering exchange of resources and information. However, the fight continued. Currently, eight dimensions were connected, with three peaceful, one neutral, and four brimming with hostility. The relentless war had already claimed two territories, with the last conflict leaving a trail of casualties eighteen years ago.
Professor Jenkin's gaze hardened. "This academy isn't for the faint of heart. Here, only the strong survive. We defend our territories with the cooperation of the Great Families and the government. The ninth dimension approaches, and soon, you'll be on the frontlines. So brace yourselves. Being a Dimextian may bring fame and fortune, but those pale in comparison to staying alive. The world has high expectations for you. Dismissed!"
With that, Professor Jenkin strode out, leaving behind a classroom full of students grappling with the harsh realities they were about to face. The weight of the future, heavy and demanding, settled firmly on their shoulders.
As Ajal made his way out of the classroom, Regan's enthusiastic voice cut through the tension. "Isn't this exciting, getting to fight strong opponents?" he said with a smile on his face.
Ajal couldn't help but roll his eyes internally. "And everyone thinks Yaw is the crazed one," he muttered to himself with a sigh.
He heard a rumor circulating amongst the students. "I heard the one who holds the number 1 rank is Yaw's older brother," Ajal thought to himself, reflecting on the dynamics within the Asante family. "The third son of the Asante family... Compared to Yaw, I heard he's calmer, has a strong sense of responsibility, and possesses good leadership skills."
And also, I can't wait to fight you, Ajal," Regan said with a hint of challenge in his voice.
Ajal couldn't help but give off a slight laugh, brushing off Regan's competitive spirit. Ignoring him, he headed off to his room. As Ajal reached his room, he retrieved his card and placed it on the door scanner, the soft beep signaling its recognition. With a quick swipe, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. The room greeted him with an unfamiliar layout – a study table bathed in the soft glow of the overhead light, a neatly made bed promising a moment of respite, and a wardrobe standing silently in the corner. Ajal stood there as he took in the room's simplicity. It was his sanctuary amidst the chaos of Morningstar Academy.
As night fell, Ajal made his way to the cafeteria, the dim glow of the lights casting elongated shadows along the corridor. As he entered, he felt the weight of curious stares following his every move. Murmurs arose, questioning how he would manage to eat with his mask on. Ignoring the whispers, Ajal retrieved his meal from the counter and prepared to leave.
Just as he turned to depart, a soft voice called out his name. Surprised, Ajal pivoted to find himself facing a silver-haired girl with captivating light blue eyes. Her presence exuded an air of elegance and beauty that would draw anyone's attention instantly, but Ajal remained unfazed.
"Sorry to disturb you," she began, her voice gentle yet confident.
Ajal regarded her with curiosity, his demeanor guarded. "What do you want?" he replied, his tone neutral.
The girl introduced herself as Lizzy Reinsburgh, the granddaughter of Mandy Reinsburgh, the matriarch of the Reinsburgh family. Ajal's mind immediately connected the dots – the Reinsburghs were one of the ten great families, and Gauthier and Iris's mother hailed from this lineage.
"Reinsburgh," Ajal echoed, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. He observed Lizzy with a newfound interest cause he had never heard of her, her family background adding another layer to the enigma that surrounded her.
As she spoke, Ajal listened attentively, his thoughts weaving through the implications of their families' connections. "I just wanted to introduce myself since our families have ties to each other," she said, her voice gentle yet determined. "And it wouldn't hurt to have a friend in the academy and I'm in the support class."
Ajal nodded in understanding. It made sense. The Reinsburgh family was renowned for their remarkable healing abilities, rumored to be otherworldly in nature. It was said that when their healing power reached its peak, they could regenerate even a severed limb. With abilities like that, she would definitely be better suited for the support class, Ajal mused silently. After all, there were other classes besides the battle class, each with its own unique role and significance in the academy.
"I understand. I'm Ajal Dragovich," he replied as he shook her hand firmly. With a brief nod, he turned and left, leaving her to watch his retreating figure, her gaze lingering for a moment before she too continued on her way.
As Ajal walked through a dimly lit corridor, at the far end of the corridor a figure materialized out of the shadows. Its form was shrouded in darkness, but an ominous aura emanated from it, a palpable mix of intense hostility and raw bloodlust. The figure took a deliberate step forward, its features hidden in the gloom. A single crimson eye, glowing with malevolent intensity, pierced through the darkness, locking onto Ajal.
"Do you really want to do this here?" Ajal's voice, devoid of fear or worry. The figure remained silent, its unseen gaze weighing heavily upon him. Then, in a voice that sent a tremor through the very air, it spoke.