The morning light sipped in through the high windows of Headmistress Veylen's office.
Louis stood in the center, clutching a cold egg to his swollen eye, the aftermath of last night's punch.
The vast room was lined with bookshelves, ancient artifacts, and trophies—reminders of the heroes the Academy had trained, including his parents. But now, looking at those trophies only made him feel guilty.
Headmistress Veylen sat behind a black desk, hands still except for an occasional tap. She was tall and thin, dressed in a navy and silver robe. Her gray hair was pulled into a tight bun, her sharp eyes missed nothing.
"Step forward," she ordered.
Louis obeyed, like a child under punishment.
"Do you know why you're here, Louis Lee?" she asked, after a tense silence.
"N-no, ma'am," he stammered.
"Don't stammer," she snapped. "You're here because you've failed. You haven't awakened your powers. You've shown no sign of potential and wasted the Academy's resources."
Louis's mouth went dry.
Veylen circled him like a hawk inspecting prey. "We train Earth Defenders—heroes. You can't even levitate a pebble."
He looked down, ashamed.
She stopped in front of him. "The rules are clear. Any student who has not awakened their powers by the end of their third year must leave. Last night was your final chance. There are no exceptions."
Louis's heart pounded as she pronounced his fate: "You are expelled."
His hands shook. All those years, all that effort—gone. Where does he belong to now?
"Gather your things and leave," Veylen said. "There's nothing more to discuss."
***
That evening, after Louis had packed his belongings into his backpack. He stood beside the gate and looked back at the academy building one last time.
The campus was quiet for the holiday, students already gone to their homes. He wouldn't get to say goodbye to anyone who cared about him, especially Kate. Maybe he'd see her again someday.
He took a deep breath and climbed onto his bicycle, pedaling away—alone, hurt and empty.
The city was a patchwork of crumbling buildings and newer towers. Streetlights cast orange halos on the streets as as Louis made his way to a pharmacy. On reaching the pharmacy, he parked his bike and the bell jingled softly as he entered.
Inside, the air was thick with antiseptic. Shelves overflowed with medicine.
The weary pharmacist, glasses perched low on his nose, barely looked up. "What do you need, kid?"
Louis placed his last coins—the final money from the Academy—on the counter. "Just the usual," he murmured.
With a sigh, the pharmacist collected the coins and fetched a small paper bag from a locked cabinet.
Louis clutched it tightly, thinking of his grandmother. With nowhere else to go, he'd stay with her. She needed the medicine more than ever.
He tucked the bag into his backpack. Louis remembered how he'd folded his uniform and left it on his dormitory bed. Before leaving his room, he'd faced each wall and saluted—his own strange way to say goodbye.
Louis mounted his bike, disappearing into the city's shadows, until he arrived at his grandmother's small cottage, its windows glowing with warm golden light.
He slipped inside quietly, careful not to wake her. The living room was spacious with nothing much other than a central rug, bookshelves, a TV, and an armchair with an unfinished blanket draped over it.
From the next room, he heard her soft coughs. He crept in, clutching the medicine. His grandmother lay in bed, frail and small, her white hair loosely tied back. Deep lines marked her gentle face.
He set the medicine down and took her hand. She opened her eyes, her gaze softening.
"You're home late," she whispered.
Louis tried to smile, but it faltered. "I had... a lot to do."
She noticed his swollen eye and the slump of his shoulders. "Louis, what happened?"
He hesitated, then whispered, "I got expelled from the Academy today. I wasn't good enough."
"Oh, my dear boy…"
"I tried so hard. For three years. But nothing ever happened. No powers. Now I'm nothing."
She squeezed his hand, her voice steady. "You are not nothing. Not to me."
He looked away, his voice trembling. "I let you down. I let Mom and Dad down. They were heroes. I'm just… a failure."
She shook her head. "You are not a failure, Louis. You're my grandson, and the son of two of the bravest people I've known. Strength doesn't always come when we want them to; it comes when we need it the most."
Louis wanted to believe her. He longed to be more than the world saw him as. But out of the Academy, he felt lost.
Suddenly, the ground trembled. The windows rattled, and the lamp on the ceiling swayed.
An inhuman screech tore through the air.
"What was that?" Louis gasped.
The world outside erupted in chaos: sirens wailing in the distance, dogs barking, a low, unearthly hum that made Louis's teeth ache.
His grandmother struggled to sit up, her face had gone pale. "Louis…"
He rushed to the window, his stomach twisting as he stared the changing sky above the city.
Then they appeared.
Dark and massive disk shaped ships broke through the clouds, casting giant shadows over the city. They hovered without noise, glowing an eerie blue light. Dozens of them gathered close together, forming a thick, tight cluster above.
People in the street stared up in terror as the sky filled with them.
"Th.. the Veltrix," Louis stammered in fear, the same monsters that took his parents life has just arrived.