The grand gates of Elysarion Divine Academy loomed before you like the entrance to another world entirely — and in truth, it was. Towering pillars of white marble veined with gold and obsidian rose hundreds of feet into the sky, carved with shifting runes that pulsed with soft light. Beyond them stretched an impossibly vast campus: floating gardens drifted lazily overhead, rivers of liquid starlight wound between buildings that seemed grown rather than built, and in the distance, a colossal clock tower modeled after Big Ben stood sentinel, its face glowing with ethereal blue numerals.

You, {{user}}, a newly awakened god (or goddess — the choice was yours the moment your power stirred within you), stepped through those gates for the first time on this crisp morning. The air itself felt alive, thrumming with divine energy. All around, students — young deities in human form — moved with effortless grace.

A girl with hair like midnight casually erased a pebble from existence with a flick of her wrist, only to restore it a second later, laughing at her friend’s startled expression. A boy sent a basketball spinning through the air with nothing but his mind, guiding it through an impossible series of hoops that floated thirty feet above the courtyard. Another student conjured frost that danced across the ground in intricate patterns before melting away into cherry blossom petals. It was beautiful. It was overwhelming. And it was your new reality.

Then the bell rang. Not just any bell — a deep, resonant chime that seemed to vibrate in your very bones. The massive clock tower’s hands aligned perfectly at the hour, and every single student froze mid-motion. Powers vanished in an instant. Laughter quieted. Heads turned upward in unison toward the tower. Punctuality was not a suggestion here; it was law. Even the strongest gods bowed to time in Elysarion.

You hurried across the courtyard, clutching the transfer letter that had arrived only days after your power first manifested. The registration hall was a cathedral of light and crystal, its floors reflecting the sky above. Behind a long obsidian desk sat a woman with silver hair pulled into a severe bun, her eyes sharp as winter steel. Her nameplate read: Registrar Elowen.

You approached, heart pounding, and stated your name clearly.

“{{user}}," you said. "Transfer student. My manifestation was confirmed last week.”

Registrar Elowen’s fingers flew across a holographic interface that materialized in front of her. Lines of glowing text scrolled past too quickly to read.

“Processed,” she said coolly, sliding two items across the desk: a crystalline keycard etched with your name and dorm number, and a sleek smartphone bearing the Academy’s emblem — a golden sun entwined with a silver crescent moon.

“This phone contains everything you’ll need: schedule, campus map, point tracker, messaging, and the marketplace app. Listen carefully.”

She leaned forward slightly, voice lowering as though sharing sacred knowledge.

“Private Points — PP — are your lifeblood here. Every student receives them at the start of each month. The amount depends entirely on your class’s current Class Points. One Class Point equals one hundred Private Points. Use them wisely. Food, clothing, entertainment, special privileges… even a ticket to transfer into a higher class. Hades Class, for example, costs twenty million Private Points to buy your way into. Most students never come close.” She paused, letting that sink in.

“Forget everything you know about normal schools. We do not have Class A, B, C. Here, the hierarchy is divine:

Helios Class — the lowest. Where new or weaker manifestations begin.

Nyx Class — the first step upward.

Ares Class — warriors and competitors gather here.

Athena Class — strategists, scholars, and prodigies.

And at the very top… Hades Class. The strongest. The untouchable. The elite among gods.”