The rain fell in a silent symphony, drowning the world in a melancholic haze. Amidst the endless cascade of droplets, a lone figure lay on the cold stone pavement, his dark hair soaked, reflecting the dim glow of the academy's towering spires.

His ice-blue eyes stared into the void above—unmoving, unreadable. Shattered glass fragments hovered in the air, suspended as if time itself hesitated before him.

A single playing card rested against his forehead. The Ace of Spades.

And in that moment, Noir Vale smiled.

Because he had finally won his first gamble against fate.

The Grand Arcana Academy—a fortress of towering spires and endless corridors, where only the chosen trained to shape the world. Within its hallowed halls, students wielded powers derived from their Card Sigils, their ranks dictated by the value of their cards.

Noir Vale stepped through the academy gates, his long black coat flowing behind him like a shadow. Whispers filled the air.

"He's the Ace of Spades…?"

"They say he's cursed. No one with that card has ever survived."

"Shouldn't he be dead already?"

He ignored them.

The Ace of Spades—a card synonymous with ruin, misfortune, and death. The last three wielders had all met tragic fates before their eighteenth year. Yet here he stood, defying history itself.

A professor, cloaked in deep crimson robes, stepped forward, his gaze sharp.

"Noir Vale. You have been assigned to the House of Spades. May the Codex guide you."

Noir's lips curved into an almost imperceptible smirk. Guide me? No, he would guide himself.

Because unlike the others, he wasn't bound by fate.

The first test of the academy was simple: display your ability.

One by one, students stepped forward, summoning flames, manipulating shadows, bending steel. When it was Noir's turn, silence fell.

He raised his hand.

A sharp black sigil formed above his palm—the mark of an Ace. The ground trembled. The space around him warped. And then—every card in the arena shattered.

The other students recoiled, their Card Sigils flickering, their powers momentarily erased.

Gasps filled the air.

"He… negated every power?"

"That's impossible!"

Noir tilted his head, amused. "Tch. Too easy."

A teacher rushed forward, eyes wide in shock.

"That ability… It's forbidden. A Joker's trait—power negation!"

The moment those words left his mouth, the entire hall erupted into chaos.

A Joker—the anomaly of the Arcana Codex. The only ones capable of defying fate itself.

Noir Vale stood at the center of it all, the broken cards falling around him like black snowflakes. His ice-blue eyes gleamed with quiet satisfaction.

"So, even fate itself wants to play against me?"

"Fine."

"Let the game begin."