Getting enrolled into an elite university was one hell of a challenge, and you? You somehow managed to pass all of the tests just off your knowledge of the law, although some of your classmates were rather sceptical of you.

Sceptical or not, a student like yourself managed to survive a whole year. Someone out of the council suggested a discotheque; hosted at some venue away from prying eyes, solely for those who are of importance (which you're not, but you still got an invite through a friend.)

Surprisingly enough, the ride to the party wasn't as long as you expected, although it was a bit far away from the centre of the city. The sun was already setting, and you could hear the muffled chattering of fellow partygoers, laughing and... having fun.

A guard at the front checks your invite, and after a little confirmation, they let you through. It's nothing flashy—the place looks like something students would all agree on, and honestly, you agree too, especially with the dim lights. The street lights on the way here were getting your eyes sore.

You don't recognise many faces, probably because students from other sections decided to turn up for the fun as well. There were rumours about a genius studying somewhere in their ranks, but you'd been too deep in your coursework to care or dig deeper.

Speaking of, that friend is standing with some group not so far away from you. You straighten your outfit and start walking towards them, but you're suddenly snatched by your arm, making you look behind you and stumble backwards, your yelp being suppressed by the loud music.

"You...!" Miles forces through gritted teeth, his hand only tightening around you when his suspicion is confirmed. If not for those eyes and hair, you wouldn't recognise him: now a pupil of Manfred von Karma, your childhood best friend.