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The twin suns of Velmora burned pale through the high-misted morning sky, bathing the silver towers of Velmora Central Academy in a sharp, steel-colored light. The academy's spires, etched with glyphs of protection and advancement, loomed over the city like silent watchers. Here, beneath their ancient gaze, students walked cobblestone paths—humans with super powers. All of them bore gifts. Some strong. Some strange. None truly ordinary.
Kenneth Prince stood at the edge of the eastern courtyard, his back pressed against a moss-covered stone pillar, watching as a gust of wind tousled his thick, jet-black curls. His golden-brown skin gleamed faintly beneath the morning light, high cheekbones casting soft shadows across his smooth face. His long lashes framed amber eyes—eyes that flickered briefly with unnatural light when angered or focused. People noticed.
They always did.
Around him, murmurs flowed like water.
> "He's too quiet…"
"I heard he beat an entire training class by himself. He didn't even look tired."
"He doesn't belong here… something's off about him…"
The whispers followed him everywhere. Kenneth didn't flinch. He'd learned early that people feared what they couldn't understand. And even in this world where every human had a gift, his presence felt… unnatural.
Only two people stood at his side.
Zarek Volen leaned against the opposite pillar, arms crossed, gray eyes hidden beneath the fall of platinum-white hair. Tall, wiry, and wrapped in the calm of someone who had seen more than his years, Zarek radiated silent control. His energy pulsed with fire and lightning—contained, focused, terrifying when unleashed.
Beside him was Kael Drayven, a walking contradiction. Pale-skinned, sharp-eyed, and always fiddling with the digital display on his holo-wristband, Kael was the mind of their trio. He had already rewritten the school's security protocols twice just to prank an annoying prefect.
Their bond had begun quietly, built not on shared pasts, but on the simple truth that they all carried something they couldn't share. Secrets too large for words.
Today, however, their peace shattered.
A group of upperclassmen swaggered across the courtyard, their uniforms untucked and marked with gold symbols of combat excellence. Leading them was Joren Marex, a broad-shouldered brute with enhanced strength and the arrogance to match it. His power allowed him to multiply the density of his limbs, making his fists like anvils. His eyes locked on Kenneth.
> "Hey, mystery boy," Joren sneered. "Still playing mute, or have you finally grown the guts to speak to your betters?"
Zarek shifted but Kenneth raised a hand, stopping him.
He stepped forward slowly, fire coiling low in his chest—not from his gift, but something older, deeper. Wolf rage. Vampire stillness.
> "I don't speak to trash," Kenneth said softly.
Joren's smile twisted. "Then maybe you'll squeal instead."
The punch came fast—Joren's arm doubling in mass mid-swing—but Kenneth moved like smoke. He ducked low, pivoted, and slammed his elbow into Joren's gut. The bigger boy stumbled. Kenneth's next move was a blur—three sharp strikes and a kick that sent Joren crashing into the academy wall.
Silence spread.
Blood trickled from Joren's nose. Kenneth's face remained unreadable. Cold. Like carved marble.
> "Stop!" came a sharp voice. One of the combat instructors had arrived. "You three—my office. Now."
Zarek exhaled slowly. Kael muttered, "Took him long enough."
---
That night, in their shared dorm suite, Kenneth sat by the window, staring out into the city's dim lights.
Zarek dropped a cold drink beside him and took a seat.
> "You didn't enjoy that," Zarek said.
Kenneth didn't answer.
> "You could've broken his spine. But you didn't."
Still silence.
> "You're better than us, you know." Zarek's voice was light, but sincere. "Stronger. Faster. But you don't even like fighting."
> "I don't," Kenneth finally replied, voice low. "But sometimes it feels like the only thing I'm made for."
Zarek looked at him for a long moment.
> "You're not," he said. "You're made for more."
Across the room, Kael chimed in from his workstation. "Still. That kick was sick though. You've got that inner beast thing going strong."
Kenneth allowed himself the smallest smile. But inside, something stirred—heat he couldn't yet control, flickers of red dancing behind his eyes when anger or fear overtook him.
The phoenix dream had returned the night before.
A great bird, wreathed in living flame, perched on a mountain of bone, its voice echoing through the fire:
> "Consume. Burn. Rise. Only then will you know power."
Kenneth's hands clenched unconsciously.
He would hunt it.
He had to.
---
The seed was planted. Within the next few days, word of a wild phoenix sighting in the forbidden forests of Karnathei, southeast of Velmora, spread through the secret underground channels. Malrik—now living under the name "Old Lucius" in the outskirts as a beast hunter—confirmed the reports.
Kenneth's choice was clear.
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