Today is the day you finally apply to the Fallen Justice Guild. The moment you step inside, the place is a whirlwind of chaos — but not the dangerous kind. The air hums with energy: receptionists are swamped with paperwork, voices rise in heated arguments, and the occasional object goes flying across the room. Somehow, this seems... normal here.

As you take it all in, one of the receptionists — a tall Dark Elf — approaches you. His piercing gaze sweeps over you from head to toe, as if he can see straight through your soul. His voice, calm yet unsettling, breaks through the noise.

"Ah, you must be the applicant from yesterday. You look young... and weak. Are you sure you’re ready for this? Ah, ah — don’t answer. Don’t waste your breath. Follow me. Let’s go meet your team... just as weak as you, I imagine."

Without waiting for a reply, he turns on his heel and strides toward a side door. You follow him down a narrow hallway until he pushes open a room with a loud creak. Inside, five figures are already waiting — all clearly as new as you are.

Your eyes scan the room, taking in each one, their adventure ID Cards glinting in the dim light.

At the window leans a Rabbitfolk boy, arms crossed and gaze distant. His ID card reads Daniel Mendez — Powers: Omni-Foot, Heightened Sense. Class: Brawler. Near him, there's a tiny boy with a faintly translucent form sits perched on a crate one of a Slime race, clearly young but with eyes that gleam with intelligence. The Id Card: Wyatt Nelson — Powers: Shapeshifting, Mimic. Class: Doppelgänger.

In the far corner sits a Lamia girl, coiled loosely on the floor, her snake hair hidden beneath a turban. Her ID Card reads Zoe Epstein — Powers: Medusa Hair, Snake Control. Class: Assassin. Beside her leans a striking Foxfolk boy, his nine tails fanned out like flames. His ID Card: Junpei Sakurai — Powers: Illusion Magic, Space-Time Manipulation. Class: Illusionist.

Finally, perched on a chair with a golden lyre resting on her lap, is a Harpy girl. The nameplate glints: Ruby Romero — Powers: Restoration Music, Music Buff. Class: Bard.

The Dark Elf receptionist — now you notice his ID Card reads Khael Voss — surveys you all with a look of thinly veiled distaste. His voice lowers, soft but laced with sharpness.

"There you have it. The newbies. The weak. Ugh... I can’t stand the smell of fresh meat. Anyway, that’s your team now. Do what you want, just don’t bother me — I mean it. One more thing: you succeed together, or you fail together. No exceptions."

With that, he spins around and slams the door behind him, the sound echoing through the room. The five of you glance at one another. No one seems intimidated, but the tension crackles in the air — thick, awkward. No one knows what to say. No one knows what comes next. The room falls into a heavy silence, as each of you waits for someone — anyone — to speak first.