The halls of Celestia Academy buzzed with excitement. The new school year had just begun, and the academy was filled with fresh faces—wide-eyed first-years in pristine uniforms, still adjusting to life in a place where power determined everything.
Most of them walked in tight groups, whispering in hushed tones about their Gifts, their rankings, their potential. Some tested their abilities in the courtyards, summoning small flames, creating gusts of wind, bending water between their fingertips. Their laughter echoed, full of hope and anticipation.
At the bottom of it all, someone moved unnoticed.
A mop. A bucket. A dark jumpsuit instead of an academy coat.
The janitor.
He wasn't a student.
He wasn't a Resonant.
He wasn't even worth a second glance.
At least, not unless someone needed a target.
The training hall was a mess. Scuffed floors, sweat-stained mats, discarded water bottles. He sighed, set the bucket down, and gripped the mop. The academy had state-of-the-art cleaning drones, but for some reason, the higher-ups still insisted on keeping human staff for "maintenance."
Or maybe they just wanted a place to dump him.
He was halfway through mopping when a boot stepped into his vision.
The hair on the back of his neck rose. He already knew who it was.
"Oi, Mop Boy."
A sharp voice. Mocking.
He didn't react. Just kept scrubbing.
Kael Varen stood over him, arms crossed, an easy smirk playing on his lips. The second-year student was one of the academy's rising stars—combat-class, ranked in the top fifteen of his year, and the type of guy who enjoyed reminding others of his status.
Kael's usual entourage stood behind him, snickering. A few first-years hovered nearby, watching the interaction with uncertain expressions.
Kael clicked his tongue. "Man, look at you. You've really got this janitor thing down, huh?" He crouched, tapping the mop handle. "Think about it—you're basically the strongest guy here. Every time someone trains, you're the one who cleans up after them. That means you're above them, right?"
More laughter.
He didn't respond.
Kael tilted his head. "What, no reaction? You used to at least glare at me. Not even gonna give me that?" He sighed dramatically, standing up. "First-years, let me introduce you. This guy right here? He's the youngest son of the great—"
The mop kept moving.
Kael's eye twitched.
A slow smirk returned to his face. "Tsk. No gratitude at all. Maybe I should help you clean, huh?"
He didn't move fast. He didn't need to.
The bucket tipped over.
Dirty water spread across the freshly cleaned floor, soaking into the janitor's uniform.
Laughter.
Some of the first-years looked uncomfortable. Others chuckled along, eager to fit in.
Kael leaned down, voice low. "Careful, Mop Boy. Might slip and break something."
Then he walked off, his group following behind, leaving nothing but wet footprints.
He sat there for a moment, staring at the puddle of filth on the floor.
Then, for just a second… he felt something.
A faint hum beneath his skin.
It flickered and vanished just as quickly.
He exhaled, slow and steady, before reaching for the mop again.
By the time the training hall emptied, the students had moved on to their next period, leaving him alone with his bucket, his mop, and his silence.
He was used to this.
Being ignored. Being stepped on. Being nothing.
Then something happened that never happened.
"Hey, you missed a spot."
He looked up.
A silver-haired girl stood a few feet away, arms crossed, piercing blue eyes watching him like she was evaluating his existence. She was tall, wearing the academy coat with the same weightless confidence as any other first-year.
She didn't move like them, though. Didn't smile, didn't fidget. Just… stood.
Then, without another word, she grabbed a mop.
His brain blanked.
A second voice piped up.
"Whoa, seriously? Iris, you're gonna help the janitor?"
A shorter girl with wavy brown hair and golden eyes bounded over, spinning a broom between her fingers. Her uniform coat was crooked, one sleeve barely on, and she grinned like she found the whole situation hilarious.
"Wow, I walked past you three times earlier and didn't even notice you," she joked, flashing him a playful grin. "You really are invisible, huh?"
His blank stare deepened.
Then a third person joined.
A second-year student. Tall, broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed. He wore the academy's gold insignia, marking him as a top-ranked student. Unlike his sister, he didn't look amused—he looked irritated.
"The way those guys treated you earlier," he said bluntly. "That was pathetic. You don't deserve that."
For the first time in years, he had no idea how to respond.
People didn't talk to him. People didn't notice him.
People didn't help him.
And yet, here they were.
Silver-haired Iris Valnera, serious, calculating, cold.
Golden-eyed Lily Valnera, energetic, mischievous, chaotic.
And their older brother, Dante Valnera, strong, justice-driven, unshakable.
Without waiting for a response, they started cleaning.
For the first few minutes, he just watched.
Iris worked effortlessly, her movements mechanical, precise, efficient.
Lily spun the broom like a spear, sweeping up dirt like it was a joke.
Dante scrubbed like he was on a mission.
Lily was the first to speak. "Hey, you got a name, or are we just gonna call you 'Mop Boy' forever?"
He hesitated. "…Why do you care?"
She shrugged. "Dunno. Feels weird helping someone I don't even know."
Iris frowned. "You don't need to know his name to help him."
Lily rolled her eyes. "You're no fun."
Dante finished cleaning one section and straightened. "Still. We should introduce ourselves. You already know our names, right?"
Of course, he did. The Valnera siblings were already famous in their first year.
Still, he hadn't expected them to introduce themselves to him.
Lily grinned. "Come on, at least tell us what to call you."
For a long moment, he didn't answer.
Then, almost reluctantly—he told them his name.
"Kairan Vaelstrum."
Silence.
The moment the words left his mouth, the air between them shifted.
Their reactions were immediate—shock, disbelief, even a flicker of doubt. The name Vaelstrum carried weight. It was a name that commanded respect, power, and legacy. A name that had no business belonging to someone like him.
Lily's golden eyes widened. "Wait… Vaelstrum? As in—"
Before she could finish, Iris subtly placed a hand on her arm, stopping her. No unnecessary words. No questions.
But she didn't hide the way her piercing blue gaze studied him differently now.
Kairan knew that look. He had seen it a thousand times before.
Doubt. Disbelief. Judgment.
He braced himself for the usual responses. The skepticism. The sneers. Maybe even the uncomfortable avoidance—because even without a Gift, the name Vaelstrum still meant something.
Lily was the first to break the silence.
"I mean… no offense, but—"
"Lily." Iris's voice was calm, but firm.
Lily groaned dramatically, throwing her hands up. "Oh, come on. I just wanted to ask how the hell a Vaelstrum ended up—"
"Don't."
The quiet finality in Iris's tone shut the conversation down instantly.
Kairan kept his face blank. He was used to this. It wasn't new. The confusion. The whispered conversations.
The disbelief that someone like him could be part of something great.
Lily pouted but didn't push further. Instead, she leaned on her broom, muttering, "Alright, alright. I get it. No unnecessary comments. Got it."
For a moment, no one said anything else.
Then Dante sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before speaking—the first to break the heavy atmosphere without making it worse.
"You know," he started, his voice steady, grounded in something that felt real, "people have a bad habit of judging books by their covers."
Kairan's hands, still gripping the mop handle, tensed slightly.
Dante didn't stop. "You hear a name, see a reputation, and suddenly, you think you already know everything about a person." His sharp eyes met Kairan's, but there was no mockery, no pity—just truth.
"A name doesn't define you. What you do does."
Kairan wasn't sure why, but those words… they landed differently.
No one had ever said something like that to him before.
Not his teachers.
Not the students.
Not even his own family.
For so long, he had been treated as if his lack of power defined his worth. But here was Dante Valnera, standing before him, looking at him like he was just another person. Not a mistake. Not a burden.
Just someone worth acknowledging.
Lily, who had been silent for once, finally grinned again. "Yeah, what he said. Besides, I already like you better than half the idiots in this school."
Kairan let out a small breath. Something in his chest unclenched.
Maybe it was the fact that none of them looked at him with pity. Maybe it was because, for the first time in a long time, someone spoke to him like he was just… normal.
Whatever it was, it felt different.
And for the first time since the school year started, he didn't feel completely alone.
As they continued cleaning together, the tension slowly faded, replaced by something more natural.
Comfort.
Familiarity.
By the time they finished, Kairan felt lighter.
Maybe—just maybe—this school year wouldn't be so unbearable after all.