In the cavernous indoor auditorium, teeming with students, the chill breeze from the air conditioner offered a fleeting respite from the blistering heat outside.
The room was alive with chatter and anticipation, the symphony of voices blending with the soft drone of the air conditioner, crafting an atmosphere that was both vibrant and oddly soothing.
Nearly 10,000 seats filled the space: the front half, gilded in gold, while the remaining seats, painted red, were situated at the back. All were oriented toward a stage where a colossal screen displayed the words: 'Freshers Inauguration Ceremony 2031.'
The walls, adorned in shades of beige and maroon, and the ceiling, dotted with numerous lighting fixtures, bathed the audience in a warm glow.
As the lights danced across the room, they unveiled a spectrum of emotions etched on the students' faces—some brimming with excitement and anticipation, while others bore the weight of despair and anxiety.
Above the vacant stage, a small door was embedded in the stage wall. At the forefront stood a grand podium, equipped with a microphone and flanked by speakers.
"Please stand for the President of Rhoman Academy,"
A stern, mechanical voice reverberated through the speakers, hushing the room. Everyone rose promptly, their expressions hardened.
A silver-haired figure with fair, wrinkled skin emerged from the stage door. She peered through her transparent-framed glasses, her black robe adding to her authoritative aura. She strode towards the podium, her gaze cold and proud.
"Students of Rhoman Academy, please be seated,"
She ordered, her eyes fixed on the paper before her on the podium.
As she addressed the crowd, she kept her gaze on the paper, clearly showing she didn't care about the ceremony. Her indifference was evident; she was there merely as a formality.
As most of the students busied themselves with their phones and whispered amongst themselves, their murmurs gradually drowned out her voice. Yet, she persisted, reciting every word on her paper.
She concluded her speech with a cryptic quote that momentarily seized their attention:
"Blood symbolizes life and death. With blood, we can save people and let them die. So, value your blood."
With the end of her quote, she retreated towards the stage door, and the room quickly erupted into conversations again. However, one student was left in a state of shock and confusion.
At the farthest end of the vast auditorium, Archie sat behind the freshers, his hood concealing his face. Dressed in a black hoodie, a white shirt, golden-brown pants, and brown boots, he had a golden-brown coat resting on his lap.
At that moment, Archie was on the brink of an outburst. He recognized the woman who had just delivered the speech.
'Why is the old woman from the mansion here? Is she the president of the academy? Damn it.'
Archie clenched his fist and muttered to himself,
"I'm in trouble if she's the president and everyone knows she nominated me. Why isn't there a picture of her on the website?"
"AHHH…" Archie let out a grunt and punched the backrest of the sofa. Fortunately, the student seated before him remained oblivious to Archie's frustration.
Archie reined in his anger as a mechanical voice echoed through the speakers.
"Please welcome the Freshman valedictorian, Kassandra."
The announcement cast a deep silence over the hall, far more profound than the previous murmurs. Archie looked around, puzzled by the sudden change in atmosphere, and wondered,
'What's happening?'
Archie lifted his gaze and saw a girl of his age, dressed in formal golden-brown pants and a white shirt, her silver breastplate armor gleaming. A rapier sword hung at her waist. She gracefully ascended the stage from the first row of seats.
'Why is she there? Why do things keep getting worse?'
Archie was taken aback to see that his roommate was the valedictorian.
Although Archie didn't recognize her name, he couldn't forget her face. He had spent the entire night staring at it, unable to sleep soundly next to such beauty.
Kassandra, Archie's roommate, stood before the podium. She saw faces filled with hostility and resentment, but she maintained her cold and stern demeanor and began her speech.
"Students of Rhoman Academy, my name is Kassandra. I am someone who stands above you, speaking to you now. Live a life befitting your rank."
Kassandra spoke in the same mechanical tone as the voice that had echoed through the speakers earlier, then calmly walked off the stage and returned to her seat.
An uncanny silence blanketed the auditorium, with everyone remaining eerily mute. It was as if an unseen force had stolen their voices, amplifying the aura of unease and mystery.
Archie, however, was at the back, grinding his teeth and muttering curses under his breath.
"Blast it, woman, why did you do something like this? If they find out I'm your roommate, the torture will be doubled because of you."
'I need to switch my room, no, the entire floor. I will take up residence on the first floor from now on.'
Archie balled his hands into fists, his curses against Kassandra growing more vehement.
In the meantime, a student from the front row sauntered toward the stage and positioned himself before the podium.
"THUD-THUD!" The student hammered the podium to command everyone's attention and declared,
"Greetings, fellow students. My name is Ron J Dal."
The sight of him brought smiles back to their faces, while Ron continued,
"As you may be aware, I'm currently the second-ranked in our batch. I wish you all the best of luck serving Kassandra, the ice lady."
"HAAA…. HAA…." A wave of laughter swept through the auditorium at Kassandra's expense, followed by a slow, swelling applause that echoed through the hall.
Archie cast a worried glance and shifted his gaze toward the front row, straining to spot Kassandra. He couldn't discern her face clearly from his position and thought,
'I hope she is okay. I know they're mocking her for her disrespectful words, but something feels off.'
Once the laughter died down, Ron's face morphed into a serious expression. His eyes hardened as he announced,
"Fellow students. We all know why I am here. We have a stray dog in our academy."
The crowd's focus abruptly veered to the back of the auditorium as a massive spotlight descended from the ceiling, bathing Archie in its harsh light. His face was projected on the large screen at the front, capturing the attention of every student and filling the room with sudden, palpable tension.
Archie sat with his head bowed, not daring to look up, seething.
"Damn it, Justina, this is all your fault."
Archie managed to keep his anger in check by clutching his coat and squeezing it tightly.
"That dog's name is Archie Troy, son of nobody." Ron's voice, laced with mockery, reached Archie's ears.
"BOOO…" Boos reverberated through the air as Archie kept his gaze lowered. He was trapped, as all the doors were locked.
What infuriated Archie more was the fact that no staff intervened to stop Ron or the students booing him. The class hadn't even commenced, yet Archie's status had been unequivocally established.
Ron, sporting a wide grin, taunted with sarcasm and derision,
"Fellow students, we understand the prestige of this academy and its value, unlike some fool. So, from now on, let's show this fool what kind of humble academy we are and how well we take care of our dogs."
After Ron concluded, a hush fell over the room, and unexpectedly, 100-echo notes began to flutter onto Archie's foot. Archie picked one up and realized it was genuine currency.
Soon, a deluge of currency notes began to rain down on him. Archie lifted his gaze, staggered by the sight of an endless cascade of notes showering down from above.
Archie's eyes widened in disbelief as the currency notes continued to rain upon him. The sheer volume of 100-echo notes—thousands of them—created a surreal spectacle.
The students around him wore smug grins, clearly relishing the spectacle. Their condescending glances made it clear that this was more than just a display of wealth; it was a power play.
As Archie tried to comprehend the situation, he glanced back at Ron on the stage. Ron's demeanor suggested a mix of amusement and satisfaction with the spectacle.
Ron slow-clapped for Archie and spoke into the mic,
"This is for you, Archie. This is our daily wage for our dogs. We will bring your leash later."