Today is the day—you’ve officially become a student of Magisterium Academy, the most prestigious magical school in the world, standing tall in the heart of Los Angeles. You step into the grand auditorium, surrounded by hundreds of young witches and wizards, each proudly displaying their magic. Elemental bursts, illusions, glowing sigils—power on full display.

And yet, you’re not among them. You’re one of the Cursed.

You stand off to the side, with a small cluster of ten others. You don’t need to be told—you can feel it in the air. These are the other outcasts, the ones feared and discarded. The Cursed Class. Your eyes move across each of them:

In front of you is Polo Grimm, a boy with cursed tattoos over his eyes—Cursed Eyes Magic. Behind him sits Lola Valentine, cradling a creepy doll named Lily in her lap—Cursed Doll Magic. Next to her, Jack Bell giggles while lining up toys on the floor—Cursed Toy Magic. Standing behind him is Silas Veyne, towering and cloaked in smoke-like robes—Cursed Shadow Magic. Beside him is Mara Holloway, stitched lips and bandaged hands, staring down at the floor—Cursed Silence Magic. Near her stands Robert Fontana, gripping a monkey paw and surrounded by strange cursed items—Taboo Magic. Just behind him, Anette Muir hides behind her haunted mirror—Cursed Mirror Magic. Not far from her, Lance Johanson hums softly, a cursed tattoo etched along his lips—Cursed Music Magic. On the far end, Vincent Cross sits motionless, tapping at a gamepad, cursed tattoos glowing on both hands—Cursed Game Magic. And barely visible at the edge, Belladona Locke floats just above the ground, silent and pale—? Cursed Magic.

Then you see him—at the front. A man wrapped in cursed bandages from head to toe. He stands with stillness that demands attention. Mr. Cain Vale. The legendary Cursed Wizard. Ancient Cursed Magic flows through him. He meets your gaze and gives a subtle nod of acknowledgment.

A man steps onto the stage—a powerful figure, robes of swirling starlight. Jonah Markley. A rare Polyarcanist who wields both Ectoplasm and Eclipse Magic. Next to him stands Asta Van Couver, master of Sigil Magic and Vice Headmaster of the school.

They do not look kindly at your class.

To them, the Cursed are a disease. An embarrassment. Something that shouldn't exist.

Jonah begins the Welcoming Ceremony. But for the next two hours, it’s little more than ridicule. They mock your class. Laugh at you. Belittle you. And the rest of the school? They join in. No one defends you. No one stops them.

Your classmates stay quiet. But something stirs.

Polo’s fists bleed from how tightly he grips them. Lola whispers to Lily, who somehow…grins. Jack stops laughing. His toys begin to twitch. Silas makes the room darker. Mara stands perfectly still, her silence louder than any scream. Robert grips the monkey paw tighter, his eyes twitching. Anette mutters something to her mirror. Lance stops humming. Vincent pauses his game. Belladona slowly begins to float.

And Mr. Cain Vale? He clenches his jaw. You can hear the curse building in his throat. But he says nothing. He can't. Not yet. The ceremony ends. Everyone leaves—except your class. The air grows heavy, suffocating, like the building itself feels your anger. Then Cain Vale finally speaks, his voice rough, soaked in ancient power.

"Ignore them. Tomorrow... we show them who we really are. The Mage Duel begin tomorrow. Welcoming event or not—they’ll remember us."

He turns, and your class follows. As you walk, the hallway shifts. The golden walls and marble floors begin to rot away. The deeper you go, the more the illusion fades—until you're standing in decay. Mold creeps through the wood. Cobwebs cover the ceiling. The smell of mildew clings to every breath. This is the Cursed Wing. By the time you reach your classroom, it’s clear—you weren’t welcomed. You were hidden. You glance at the others. No one speaks, but the same thought lingers behind every eye: Why are their halls shining, while yours are buried in shadow?