Being student council president was supposed to come with perks.
Like your own office.
Or at least a fridge.
Instead, I got a desk made of mana-reinforced wood, a chair that screamed in Latin when I sat down, and 87 complaints in one morning.
"Can I resign?" I asked.
Whisper passed me a form. "You can. But first, you must defeat your vice president in ritual combat, survive the Gauntlet of Bureaucracy, and sign a contract in the blood of a moon-born lamb."
I stared.
She sipped tea. "Or you could just pretend to work and vibe."
"…Deal."
The Council of World-Enders group chat kept pinging nonstop.
[ Felora ]: We need to increase security on campus. Someone summoned a chaos fox in the art room.
[ Bubblethulu ]: It wasn't me, but I respect them.
[ Whisper ]: The runes suggest interference from the Forgotten Moon Sect.
[ Virel ]: Charisma, your approval is needed.
[ Charisma ]: i want soup and sleep
[ Felora ]: He's already corrupted. Perfect.
Around noon, I tried to do something simple:
Start a club for introverts who don't want to do anything.
Y'know. Just a place to sit in silence, maybe meditate, maybe not, maybe nap.
I called it:
Peace Club.
I submitted the paperwork.
The magic council scanner rejected it.
"Denied: Club Name Reeks of Forbidden Pacifism."
I submitted it again. Slight name tweak:
"Peace Club (With Occasional Screaming)"
Approved instantly.
Slime became my first member.
He arrived with a mic and an energy drink. "I'm recording an episode for the podcast: Vibes of the Void. You're my first guest."
"…I never agreed—"
"Too late, we're live. Charisma Langston, new Prez. Tell me: do you think reality is a lie designed by the gods to harvest our emotional responses for entertainment?"
I blinked. "Yes."
"Nice."
Two more students joined. Both mysterious.
One wore an entire bathrobe made of enchanted fog and claimed their name was ".... ."
The other spoke exclusively in haiku.
Peace Club is growing
Silent rebellion blooms now
We nap through the storm
Cool. Creepy. Cozy. I could live with this.
Until the 4th member showed up.
He was tall. Had spiky black hair. Eyes glowing faint purple. His cloak had runes that shifted when you looked away.
"Hey," he said casually. "You accepting members?"
"Sure. You a pacifist?"
"Totally. I only burned three villages last week."
Everyone laughed. Except me.
Whisper suddenly kicked open the door. "CHARISMA. THAT MAN IS WANTED IN SEVEN DIMENSIONS."
Spiky guy smiled. "Ah. My reputation precedes me."
Slime whispered into the mic, "And here we go, folks. Drama arc begins."
Turns out, the guy's name was Reven.
Real name: unknown.
Wanted by: at least three magical authorities and one baking guild (don't ask).
Why was he here?
"To chill," he said. "And maybe borrow your fate aura to hide from some people."
I narrowed my eyes. "Are you using my club as a magical smokescreen?"
"Would you believe me if I said no?"
"No."
"…Then yes."
I kicked him out.
The Peace Club rules were clear: no fugitives unless they bring snacks.
He left me a cursed lollipop and vanished in smoke shaped like a middle finger.
Bubblethulu licked the lollipop and passed out for five minutes. Whisper said that counted as a win.
Later that day, a mysterious box appeared outside the council room.
It was marked:
"FOR PRESIDENT LANGSTON. PEACE BE UNTO YOU."
I opened it.
Inside was… a scroll.
And a cult invitation.
"We of the Order of Eternal Balance see your rise. We honor your charisma and apathy. Join us. Lead us. Become the Face of the Grey Path. We offer snacks."
There was a buffet menu attached.
Whisper read the aura. "This cult has ties to the old Forgotten Moon Sect."
Felora burned the invitation with her hand. "You're not joining a cult before I get my rematch."
"Why does every club I start turn into a religious movement?" I muttered.
Bubblethulu opened a second scroll that poofed into confetti with the message:
"Peace is a rebellion. The world watches. You have 3 days to decide."
"Okay," I said, throwing my hands up, "I just wanted to nap and maybe vibe with quiet people."
Whisper nodded solemnly. "That's why you're dangerous."
Felora crossed her arms. "I'll be watching you, Langston. If you defect to a cult, I'm legally allowed to stab you."
"Nice."
"Twice."
"Rude."
That night, back in my room, I lay on my bed.
The moon outside looked suspiciously closer than usual.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown Contact : ur presence disturbs the balance. But ur drip is immaculate. Meet us at the abandoned garden after school. Bring the toothpick.
I stared.
"…I hate this school."