The buzz of recruitment week lingered across Zenith Academy, with whispers of successful club events spreading through the halls. For Seo Seojun and Seo Eunha, their clubs were no longer mere concepts they were forces beginning to take shape. But growing a faction wasn't just about attracting talent. It was about keeping them engaged and loyal, and the twins both knew the real work was only beginning.
Seojun sat at the head of a long table in the Genesis Club's headquarters, a newly secured workshop in the academy's technology wing. His Scholar System displayed detailed schematics of their drone prototype, highlighting points of failure from their recent demonstration.
"This isn't good enough," Seojun said, his voice calm but firm. "The demonstration was a success, but it's not enough to impress the academy long-term. We need practical applications that solve real problems."
Hyunwoo leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "You want to push it further? It's already functional."
"Functional isn't enough," Seojun replied. "It needs to be indispensable. Something people can't ignore."
Jiyeon, who had been silently watching, finally spoke. "You're thinking too much like an inventor and not enough like a leader. This club isn't just about the tech it's about the people. You've got recruits who are eager to prove themselves. Use them."
Seojun considered her words. His Scholar System flashed possibilities for delegation, but relinquishing control wasn't something he found easy. Still, she wasn't wrong.
"All right," he said. "Hyunwoo, assign parts of the drone upgrade to the newer members. Let's see who rises to the challenge."
"And what about you?" Jiyeon asked, a slight smirk on her lips.
"I'll focus on what's next," Seojun said. "We're not just building tools we're building a legacy."
In the western courtyard, Eunha stood before a group of tired but excited students. The Ascension Club's maze challenge had attracted promising recruits, but now came the hard part: shaping them into a cohesive team.
"Good work," she began, her voice steady. "Each of you showed adaptability and creativity during the challenge, and that's why you're here. But surviving the maze isn't enough. To thrive in Ascension, you need to think bigger."
Hyuna leaned against a nearby wall, her arms crossed. "Translation: she's about to make things harder."
Minho chuckled. "When doesn't she?"
Eunha smirked faintly, but her Scholar System pinged softly, reminding her of the true purpose of this meeting. "Your first task as members of Ascension is a group challenge. You'll divide into teams and solve a real-world problem. I want to see how you work together and how you lead."
One of the recruits, a nervous-looking boy with an Analysis System, hesitated. "What kind of problem?"
Hyuna grinned. "The kind that makes you wish you stayed in the maze."
Eunha ignored the banter and gestured to the central table, where holographic maps of Zenith's campus lit up. "There's a logistics issue in the western dormitories. Broken systems and supply chain delays it's affecting the students there. You have three days to present a viable solution. The best team will earn a leadership role in the club."
The recruits exchanged uneasy glances, but Eunha stood firm. "This isn't just an exercise. It's a test of how well you think under pressure and how far you're willing to go to improve."
Later that day, Seojun and Eunha crossed paths in the main atrium, a chance encounter that carried the weight of their growing rivalry.
"Maze challenge," Seojun said, his tone casual. "Not bad for a recruitment stunt."
"And your drone?" Eunha replied, raising an eyebrow. "Impressive, but practical applications take time. Can you afford to wait?"
Seojun smirked. "We're not just reacting to problems we're solving them before they happen. You should try it sometime."
Eunha's Scholar System flagged his comment as an attempt to provoke her, but she refused to take the bait. Instead, she countered, "And while you're busy predicting the future, I'll be building a faction that can handle the chaos you're so eager to avoid."
The tension between them was electric, their words layered with unspoken challenges. But before either could say more, a voice interrupted.
"Looks like the twins are at it again."
Both turned to see Lee Soyeon, the top-ranked student, leaning casually against a nearby pillar. Her expression was calm, but her Spectral System shimmered faintly around her, hinting at her power.
"You two are so predictable," Soyeon said, her tone light but cutting. "Always trying to one-up each other. Meanwhile, the rest of us are quietly getting ahead."
"Is that so?" Seojun asked, his voice cold.
"Absolutely," Soyeon replied. "But don't let me stop you. Watching you both struggle is... entertaining."
She walked away without another word, leaving Seojun and Eunha glaring after her.
"She's bluffing," Eunha said finally.
"Maybe," Seojun replied. "But if she's not, we can't afford to fall behind."
In the following days, both clubs faced their first internal challenges.
For Genesis, the delegation of the drone project revealed cracks in the team. Two recruits argued over conflicting approaches, slowing progress. Hyunwoo managed to mediate, but it was clear that the club needed stronger leadership to avoid future conflicts.
"This is why I don't delegate," Seojun muttered to Jiyeon.
"Leadership isn't about doing everything yourself," Jiyeon replied. "It's about managing people so they don't tear each other apart."
Meanwhile, Ascension's logistics challenge exposed weaknesses in some of its members. One team produced an overly complicated solution, while another failed to account for time constraints.
"They're learning," Hyuna said, watching Eunha evaluate the results.
"Learning isn't enough," Eunha replied, her Scholar System highlighting flaws in the submissions. "If they can't improve, they'll hold us back."
By the end of the week, the clubs had made progress, but the differences between the siblings' approaches were becoming more pronounced.
Seojun's Genesis Club prided itself on precision and innovation, but its rigid structure sometimes stifled creativity. Eunha's Ascension Club thrived on adaptability, but its loose organization risked inefficiency.
Both knew that their methods needed refinement, but neither was willing to admit it not yet.
As the twins prepared for the next phase of their journey, one thing was clear: the rivalry that had once been a quiet undercurrent was now a roaring storm, and Zenith Academy was watching.