With every power comes rebellion, and with the power set in place, the people at the bottom formed their group—the rebels. Those who joined either had a low level of ability or none. Many would make it through the rebels' rankings. The formation of the rebels piqued the students' curiosity, heightening their interest in the unfolding dynamics of the school.
Among the noise and chatter, Levi wrote his name on the board and turned to the class.
"ATTENTION!" he yelled. The students fell silent, their conversations dying instantly as all eyes approached him. After introducing himself, he explained the purpose of the ribbons, symbolizing the students' abilities and rank within the school's hierarchy. The ribbon color indicated their ability level, and the number of ribbons represented their grade, you will achieve up to four ribbons, whatever ribbon you end in at the end of the semester. That's the ribbon you are stuck with; gold being the highest and bronze the lowest.
"Of course, many of you have already discovered the significance of these ribbons," Levi began, his voice booming across the classroom to speak over the few students still whispering in the back. "The military has found a new way to rank status; it's not just about ability."
He paused, staring at the remaining students still chatting until they stopped.
"Thanks to this system, lower-level users can rise to the top! We will all go through many tests and trials, allowing you to increase rank and earn a higher ribbon!"
Levi suddenly became quiet. "One more thing we will discuss next week is the war against the Simians and other races! We don't have time now, but understand—this war is not just a battle for territory. It is a fight for our way of life and the future of our school."
A wave of tension rippled through the class. The weight of his words settled over the students, filling the air with an urgency none of them could ignore.
Homeroom ended, and a ping sounded from their watches, notifying them of their next class. They had fifteen minutes to move between buildings.
As Erie stepped into the courtyard, he noticed a row of buses pulling in—about nine in total. He recognized them immediately, his eyes landing on one in particular.
'West Orphanage Village' was printed in bold letters, a lightning strike slashing through the middle of the insignia.
Jake, Gene, and Erie stood watching as students unloaded. "Hey, Erie," Gene asked. "Is that where you're from?"
"Yeah, how did you know?" Erie responded.
Gene didn't answer. They had no time to linger.
On their way to class, four boys wearing four ribbons blocked their path. The fourth-year students stood before Erie, Jake, and Gene, their presence sending a clear message.
People walked around them, minding their business. No one wanted to be late.
One of the boys eyed Erie and then glanced at Jake. "Hey, just a word for you three," he said, barely sparing Gene a glance. "You shouldn't hang around them, got it?" He hesitated, his brows furrowing as he looked at Jake. Just a second ago, Jake had been standing beside Erie, but now, without a sound, he had shifted next to Gene.
The boy's expression hardened as he turned back to Jake. "Next time, Jason will have a word with you all."
The group allowed Erie and Gene to pass, but Jake remained behind. Erie glanced back briefly, watching Jake stand unmoving, his blank stare locked onto the fourth-year students. The school had a structured separation—first- and second-years in one building, third- and fourth-years in another—so for upper-level students to be in the first-year section was a big deal.
"What do you think they're telling Jake?" Gene finally broke the silence.
"They probably don't want him hanging around us because we have bronze ribbons," Erie muttered.
Gene sighed. "Erie, maybe we shouldn't hang around Jake—for his sake."
Erie shook his head. "He's the one who follows me. He doesn't even talk to me. I'm just learning how to deal with it."
They finally reached their next class.
Meanwhile, Jake was led to the fourth-year student with a scar stretching across his face. He was tall—around 6'5"—with loose braids hanging past his shoulders. He stood up slowly, the four golden ribbons on his uniform reflecting the light as he smirked.
"Here you go, Jason. The white-haired kid with the golden ribbon," one of the boys said.
Jason remained seated on the stairwell, surrounded by several third-years wearing silver ribbons. "You guys can go," he said, waving them off. He stood up and stared down at Jake, his smile never wavering.
"I know you don't talk much, Jake. But I'll tell you this once—you don't hang around the weak."
Jason circled him. "We have a social status to uphold. People like us—we're a big deal in this society." He stopped in front of Jake, looking him dead in the eyes. "We get the top grades, have the strongest abilities, and make the best decisions. We are better than those bronze ribbons in every way."
He sat back down on the stairwell, relaxing. "When I finish this academy, I will have my military. I'm recruiting partners. Gold ribbons only."
Jason continued talking, but Jake was already gone. The body in front of Jason wasn't real—just an echo.
Jake had already left, his mind elsewhere. He didn't care for their social games. He had already decided to follow Erie. Something about Erie drew him in, a strange power source that seemed to pull energy toward him.
Later that day, as students finished their classes, Jake lingered at a distance, his eyes locking onto Erie briefly before shifting elsewhere.
Across the courtyard, a large group of students had gathered.
Jake spotted Alex among them, finishing his training session. Nearby, a frail-looking student bowed to an instructor and received a handshake.
"I'm not sure what it is," the instructor told the boy, "but more promising students seem to be coming from the outer villages this year. Good job, young man. This fusion of yours is unique."
The man handed him a golden ribbon and set his rank as BB on his watch. "Now go and make me proud. I have my eye on you."
The boy bowed again before turning his gaze toward the training field. His eyes locked onto a black-haired figure throwing weapons at a sphere.
"I know one person who can make objects move like that."
With a smirk, he stepped forward, walking toward the field with a clear goal in mind.
"It's time to turn the academy upside down. They should've known better than to outcast us because we don't have families. It's time to visit my friend."
Alex hurled a core pebble at a target. His instructor stood beside him, watching his movements closely.
"So, Alex, which weapon suits you best?"
"I think the core pebbles are my best weapon, teacher!" Alex panted. "I'm low on energy, and with little effort, these give the best outcomes."
"Good," the instructor nodded. "Keep practicing while I head back to class. Don't worry about missing today's lesson—we're just reviewing why the ribbons matter." She waved a hand dismissively. "Remember, don't control the flow. Your energy blends on its own. Just let it happen."
As she left, Alex took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Then he heard it. "Alex Petra." The voice was smooth, confident—too familiar.
Alex's body tensed, his breath catching in his throat. He turned, locking eyes with the approaching figure.
A golden ribbon. A smirk. His stomach dropped. "If it isn't my fellow orphan," the boy said, stepping closer.
Alex's fingers curled into fists.
"What is he doing here?"