The sun never shined right anymore. Not since the sky cracked a hundred years ago and something ancient fell to Earth — changing the world forever. Cities rebuilt with alien metal. Spirit energy leaked into the air. Monsters hunted in the wild zones. Heroes became soldiers. Students trained to be warriors.
And Brian Jean didn't care about any of it.
He was just hungry.
"Yo, Brian, pick up the pace!" David called over his shoulder, jogging through the long metal corridor of U.H.A. Academy's south campus. "If you don't get to mess hall in time, you're gonna be chewing nutrient bars out of a vending wall again!"
Brian adjusted the old jacket draped over his uniform and kept walking. He didn't move slow — he just didn't move for anyone.
"I'm not running," Brian muttered. "They put protein broth in everything. I'm not fighting for soup."
David laughed, a deep easy sound. "We're trying to be heroes and you can't handle soup?"
Brian cracked a small grin.
U.H.A. Academy sat on the edge of the Great Divide — a scar in the Earth caused by the Fallen City that crash-landed a century ago. It floated above jagged cliffs held by spirit stabilizers, surrounded by miles of protective barriers. The school wasn't just a place of learning — it was humanity's future in the making.
And right now, it was just another long Monday.
Brian and David reached the massive cafeteria — sleek silver walls, blue light floors, and a hundred students talking, laughing, training, fighting, or ignoring each other.
At one table, Niko and Alcino were already arguing.
"Bro, I beat you through the East Tunnel by six seconds."
"You tripped me with your windstep."
"Because you hesitated on the third corner!"
"You threw a snack bar at me!"
Brian passed them without a word.
On the far side, Kendall Burke sat alone, arms crossed, watching. She always watched. Always silent. The top cadets gave her a wide berth — not out of fear, but because no one liked feeling invisible next to someone so composed.
Declan Kingham leaned against the wall, tapping his wrist as drones flew out of his coat, scanning half the room. Hayk stood beside him, adjusting his glasses and murmuring code.
"Sensor feedback's too hot," Hayk muttered.
"Then recalibrate the dampener field," Declan said without looking up. "I'm trying to tag everyone's Spirit ratings without tripping faculty alarms."
"You're gonna get us expelled again."
"No, I'm gonna get us ahead."
Brian sat with David near the rear booth. No talking. No drama. Just food.
And still, something buzzed under his skin — like a pulse deep in his bones. He ignored it.
Just another day.