Rockson, perched on his seat like a roosting bird with a bucket of chicken clutched tight in one hand, flashed a toothy grin the mont Elius sat down.
His round glasses were slightly fogged from the heat of the crispy chicken steaming up against his face, and a speck of grease dotted the corner of his mouth.
He reached inside the bucket and pulled out a drumstick, holding it out like an offering to a deity.
"Hey, want one again?"
Elius blinked. "Thanks, not this ti cause I already ate."
"Man," Rockson said, taking a huge bite, crunching through bone like it was a wafer, "What, you don’t like chicken anymore?"
Elius was speechless, didn’t I tell you already? But well, he would just repeat himself.
"I like it. Just not now," Elius he as he eased into the seat beside him.
Rockson smirked as he chewed, licking his fingers exaggeratedly. "Mmm, more for then. Anyway..."
He leaned in close, lowering his voice even as excitent made his words tremble. "Dude. You were all over the news. I an everywhere. HeroNet, PowerCast, RiftWatch, even so sketchy channels on the Underground Broadcast!"
Elius tilted his head. "Really?"
Rockson nodded. "Really really! Like, while fighting inside that dungeon test yesterday—you know, after all the monsters started popping out and stuff— and my sidekicks fought and ran to survive that dinsional rift.
"We got a call from the dispatch tower saying the situation went outta control. BOOM. We ran like there’s an apocalypse. We didn’t even look back! That was all I needed to hear. I teleported out faster than you can say ’fried raptor thighs.’ And I ain’t even the one who can teleport!"
He took another dramatic bite, talking with his mouth full, "We went ho, Elius. All of us. Most of the other newbies, too. The rift was closing down, rember?
"But then bam! I check my tablet and there’s you—on the news—walking out the cave all cool like a king being carried by four of your teammates and burnt up and epic-looking like so comic panel ca to life."
Elius kept quiet, letting him gush.
He couldn’t rember walking out feeling fine and cool, but if his father did sothing to his body—like using devices or technology to control him and make him act conscious like nothing had happened inside—well, that would explain things.
Rockson flailed a winged elbow. "And not only that, you defeated a real villain! A PEAK RANKED F! You know what that ans?! You’re a rookie, like , but you beat soone who’s considered the endga boss of newbie tiers! That’s insane!"
All around them, the other superheroes started nodding.
One girl with three braided buns leaned forward. "He’s right. That fight was recorded. Soone hacked the surveillance feed and posted the raw footage."
A boy with bright purple cybernetic legs added, "It’s already got over two million hits. People are calling you ’The First Sword of Class F.’"
"Sword Immortal of Zero-Tier!" another said dramatically.
"I like ’Dungeon Reaper,’" one muttered, and another hissed, "No, ’The Bladeborn Rookie!’"
"They should call him ’Boss Killer.’"
Elius blinked, stunned. "Wait. You all... saw that?"
One shrugged. "Dude, of course we did. We’re F-ranked heroes. We watch everything that happens in the F-tier to figure out where we stand."
Soone else, a tall girl with eyes like crystal leaves, said, "You didn’t just survive the dungeon; you made it legendary. Although we didn’t see them all, seeing Lava Scissor with his head separated after you fought him with your swords are incredibly cool."
Elius shifted in his seat, the attention like a heat lamp bearing down on his shoulders.
He couldn’t rember beating Lava Scissor with swords alone, don’t tell , father did sothing?
Wait... maybe the video was cut to the part where he beheaded Lava Scissor and his father didn’t put the slam?
And even though he slamd Lava Scissor to death, his father separated Lava Scissor’s head?
Shaking his head, his father is really sothing else.
Elius knew the only reason why.
His father, Radiant Man, wanted to put pressure on him by using swords, and worst of all, to make villains target him!
His father didn’t want him to use swords but the Solarion Pride.
Maybe...
Elius could be wrong as didn’t know the exact context, but he’s sure his father is behind all this.
"Hold up," he whispered to Rockson. "Who are these people? They feel... different. Not like the sidekick applicants from yesterday."
Rockson chuckled mid-chew. "Because they are different."
He flicked a greasy thumb toward the crowd. "These guys? They’re all full-fledged heroes. Like, officially recognized by the Superhero Registry as F-rank superheroes. They got capes and licenses and everything. This ain’t the newbie bus. This is the Hero Bus."
Elius’s eyes widened slightly. "But we just got here..."
"Yeah, and so of them did too," Rockson said, nodding toward a younger boy in a combat vest who still looked nervous. "So are new like us. Others are old-tirs. They’ve been around a year, but they didn’t clear enough credits or feats to level up yet. So they’re stuck in F-rank hell."
Elius nodded thoughtfully.
Right. It made sense.
In the comic storyline, being a superhero wasn’t a permanent position.
If a student failed to achieve enough feats, contribute in dinsional missions, or advance in power, they could lose their title. And once that happened, access to dungeons and rifts was revoked. Without that, you couldn’t evolve your powers. You were stuck. Left behind.
It was a brutal system.
So these people weren’t just greeting him.
They were evaluating if they could use him.
Seeing if he was friendly.
And still—one by one—they began to approach.
A tall man with scars crisscrossing his cheeks extended a hand. "Flint. Rock-type Esper. F-ranked. Been here a year. You’re the real deal."
A woman in a green cape stepped forward, flipping a coin between her fingers. "Jade. Probability manipulator. I’ve only been around for six months. Don’t worry—I’m not gunning for you. Not yet."
A boy in a full exosuit with sparks flying off his shoulders offered a handshake. "Sparkwing. Electricity and aerial mobility. Welco to the club, Boss Killer."
Then ca more.
"Tach. Ti-lag manipulator."
"Veera. Ink construct artist."
"FreezePoint. Self-freezing cellular structure."
"Domino. Luck swapper."
"GigaBones. Density mutation on skeleton."
"Ripple. Sound wave mobility."
So many nas. So many superhero powers or quirks. So many rivals, yet so polite.
Elius accepted each greeting with a nod or brief word. He understood what this was. A ritual. A silent test. A way of sizing him up and letting him know he was in the ga now.
He wasn’t just "the son of Radiant Man" anymore.
He was one of them.
But even more dangerous—he was ahead of them.
Still, he wasn’t arrogant. He simply let it happen, shaking hands and listening to their nas and abilities like a strategist morizing battlefield pieces.
After all, what could go wrong?
He wasn’t planning to be anyone’s enemy. He’d stay low. Stay smart. Cultivate quietly and get stronger without drawing more attention.
Just as the last handshake ended, Sir Bush’s voice bood from the front of the bus, cutting through the chatter.
"Alright, students!"
The bus phased slightly, the windows filling with shifting lights as they passed through dinsional layers. Space bent, colors folded, and then—
The world outside stabilized.
Shimring towers of light reappeared, massive floating structures erged once more, gravity-defying arenas materialized again, and elental training zones stretched out across the expansive landscape before them.
With a dramatic wave of his hat, Sir Bush turned in his seat.
"We’re here, my bright-eyed heroes! Welco to your battleground! Welco to your dream! Welco..."
He paused for effect.
"...to Academy High!"
Reviews
All reviews (0)