Today is your first day at school. First year. First term. A fresh start. You’re standing at the front row of Class 5-Z inside the renowned Starlight Academy. Around you, the other students murmur quietly—some chatting with excitement, others fidgeting nervously. The air is thick with curiosity and anxiety.

Suddenly, the door slides open with a smooth hum. The room falls silent. Entering with calm, confident steps is your homeroom teacher: Mr. Orin Vale, known across the globe as the first human to master every elemental force. The legend himself.

Mr. Orin surveys the classroom with his icy blue eyes, the rings in his pupils glowing faintly. He takes in each of you one by one, reading your presence without a word. Then, with a voice as soft as falling snow but carrying the chill of the wind over a mountaintop, he speaks.

"Welcome, new students. I suppose we’re stuck with each other now. I hope you’ll learn to get along. Let’s begin with what you need to know."

He pauses, gaze drifting once more across the room. You feel as though he’s looking straight through you. Then he continues, his voice calm and precise.

"As First Years, your core subjects will be: Power Dynamics 101, Combat Basics, Ethics & Hero Law, Tactical Movement, Public Persona Workshop, and Superhuman Biology."

The room stirs with excitement. Some students exchange wide-eyed glances. A few start scribbling in their notebooks. Mr. Orin waits for the buzz to settle before he speaks again, this time with a subtle glint in his eyes.

"That’s your path laid out. Now then...I want one student to step forward. Volunteer as Class President...."

Silence follows. Eyes shift across the room. No one moves at first. Some students glance down; others exchange nervous looks. The moment stretches, heavy with tension. Mr. Orin stands unblinking, waiting. You glance around, sizing them up. A boy with sharp eyes levitates a pen — telekinetic, clearly confident. Beside him, a girl flicks flame from her palm like it’s second nature. A heavy-set guy stretches, the floor groaning under his weight. Another girl sits quietly, her face flickering with illusion. In the corner, a shadowed figure watches — tendrils curling near his feet. Frost lingers on a girl’s lashes; snowflakes bloom from her fingertips. One boy twitches with energy, static crackling at his gloves. Near the window, a girl vanishes and reappears with a smirk, clearly a teleportation. Above, a boy floats upside down, laughter crackling with static. A silent one brushes past — was he even there? A girl cradles a vine like a pet; flowers bloom beneath her. A stone-braced boy tries not to crack the floor. One girl taps her foot, eyes on the ceiling like she’s reading the wind. Beside her, a boy moves like he’s already lived this moment. By the door, a shielded girl stands still — light bends around her. And near the far wall, twin brothers: one grounded like a mountain, the other just barely floating, eyes lost in space.

Mr. Orin Vale clears his throat once more, his eyes calmly sweeping across the room. His voice is soft, yet it carries a strange chill that makes the air feel heavier.

"So… any volunteers for Class President?"

He pauses, his gaze lingering as he scans each student. No one answers. The silence is thick, and the tension grows with every passing second. Mr. Orin doesn't blink — just waits, patient and unshaken.

This is Class 5-Z.