Once, all humans were ordinary.
No powers. No magic. Just life as we knew it.
But then, everything changed.
A spark ignited.
Strange, unique humans began to emerge — each with abilities the world had never seen.
Soon, 99% of all humanity developed supernatural powers.
But these powers weren't random.
They traced back to the very first —
The original ten.
The first to awaken.
Known as the Guardians of Magic, each one possessed a unique trait.
Together, their abilities formed the blueprint of all supernatural power known today.
But not all power stayed in balance.
One of them turned.
The Guardian Flame — once a symbol of light and leadership — was cast out.
Consumed by bitterness and isolation, his power twisted and darkened.
In time, he became a creature of vengeance… a monstrous being known only as the Beast.
He returned with wrath, wielding corrupted power, determined to destroy the others.
The war that followed shook the world.
It ended with the Beast sealed away…
But the price was unimaginable.
The Guardians were gone. Every last one.
And though their essence lived on in the powers of generations,
The age of the originals had ended.
Years passed.
Legends faded.
Magic evolved.
But not a single fire-borne soul had risen again…
Until now
"Yo… I guess this is where I'm supposed to say my name, crack a dumb joke, and tell you about my normal Awakening day, right?
Yeah… that's not happening.
Name's Nesshou Genta. And my Awakening?
It didn't go the way it was supposed to.
See, for everyone else, turning sixteen is like a party — the Bloom, the magic, the cheers, the photos.
For me?
It was panic.
Shouting.
The kind of fear you can smell in the air.
I didn't wake up surrounded by friends.
I woke up surrounded by flames… and bodies.
They say everyone's magic shows up on the Bloom test.
Mine didn't.
Not a spark. Not a flicker. Nothing.
And yet… when it came, it came like it had been waiting for centuries to burn through me.
Now people are looking at me like I'm something that shouldn't exist.
Like I'm a mistake.
Like I'm dangerous.
Maybe they're right.
But if I'm a mistake…
I'm going to be the kind that no one can ignore."
Narrator:
Previously, on Class 24 —
I woke up in a cave, cold and aching, staring at some guy by a fire. Kurogane Daichi. He told me my grandfather was gone… maybe worse. I didn't believe him, but I followed him anyway, all the way to this underground place called SSUB.
That night, I dreamed — no, I saw — a burning battlefield. My grandfather's voice telling me to run… and then it appeared. The Beast. Made of fire. Staring right through me and saying, "We are one."
This morning, I felt eyes on me. Then the alarms hit. Daichi's voice: "Stay close… and whatever happens, don't use your flames."
But whatever was coming… it wasn't after him. It was after me.
Narrator:
From there, everything blurred — the SSUB Grand Nexus, the council chamber, and the moment I first saw them: Yami Ibuki, Shirakawa Reiji, Kurai Sumika, Anjō Hanari. Four recruits who already looked like they belonged.
And then there was Shiratori Kenzo — our new "teacher," who acted more like a kid who'd snuck into a war room.
Kenzo (hands in pockets, strolling to the front of the class):
"Alright, everyone. We've got some fresh faces today. Five of them. Don't make me regret letting them breathe the same air as you."
Narrator:
Chairs scraped, whispers floated around. The moment he finished, his gaze landed on the one who looked like trouble from the start.
Kenzo:
"Something funny, Ibuki?"
Ibuki (leaning back, chair tilting dangerously):
"Just wondering if we're wasting our time."
Kenzo:
"Oh? And you'd know who's worth the trouble?"
Ibuki:
"Been right every time."
Kenzo (grinning wider):
"Alright then. Let's find out. You five —" points at me, Ibuki, Reiji, Kurai, Hanari "— against me. Right now."
Narrator:
The room froze. Then the whispers came, low and sharp.
Kenzo:
"You can use everything you've got on me. No holding back."
Hanari (arching a brow):
"Even if some of us can't control it?"
Kenzo:
"Especially then."
Narrator:
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then—
Ibuki blurred forward
Narrator:
For a split second, Ibuki was simply gone. No blur, no warning — only shadows bending where he'd stood a heartbeat ago.
Hanari's gaze snapped toward the distortion.
"He's—"
But the thought was cut short. A ripple split the air, like the room itself was folding in on him, and Ibuki emerged from the shadow already mid-strike, arm slicing toward Kenzo's neck.
Nesshou froze, the thought hammering in his head: Speed of light—how do you even—
Kenzo didn't flinch. His hand shot up with surgical precision, closing around Ibuki's wrist before the blow could land. The stop was so sudden it felt like the room's momentum had shifted.
Reiji's eyes narrowed.
"He read the angle before he moved…"
Kenzo twisted with effortless control and drove his palm into Ibuki's chest. The strike sent him skidding back across the floor until his body met the far wall.
Kurai's quiet breath cut the silence.
"That impact—he masked it until the last second."
Dust curled upward where Ibuki had landed, his outline half-swallowed by shadow. The air between us seemed to grow heavier. The four of us stood frozen, each realizing in our own way—Kenzo wasn't here to play.
Kenzo (glancing at us, tone flat but sharp):
"We don't have all day."
Narrator:
Reiji moved before the words had even settled in the air. One heartbeat, his hands were empty — the next, steel shimmered into existence.
His sword, Shin'en.
No… not just a sword. The blade was massive, black as the void between stars, edges lined with faint, rippling light.
Nesshou (thought snagging on the sight):
He just pulled that… out of nothing?
Narrator:
Reiji's stance shifted in a single breath, precise and lethal. He swung. Once, twice — a relentless storm of strikes that seemed to cut the air itself. Each arc of Shin'en came faster, heavier, yet Kenzo slipped between them like the spaces had been made for him.
Nesshou couldn't tear his eyes away.
He's reading him… every strike before it even happens.
Narrator:
Reiji pressed harder, his expression never breaking. But on the last swing, Kenzo's body pivoted, his hand snapping forward to catch the sword mid-motion. A sharp twist — and Shin'en was wrenched from Reiji's grasp, sent spinning into the air before dissolving back into nothing.
In the same motion, Kenzo's kick slammed into Reiji's midsection.
The impact hurled him across the room — straight into Ibuki, who had just pushed himself off the wall. Both crashed to the floor in a tangle, the sound of their collision echoing in the high-ceilinged space.
Kenzo stood where he was, not even breathing hard.
Narrator:
Kurai and Hanari exchanged a glance. No words — just a silent agreement.
Hanari moved first. Her steps were fluid, deliberate, the rhythm of her dance pulling threads of light into the air. Three sharp petals spun from her hands, glinting as they streaked toward Kenzo.
Kurai stayed still. She needed time. Her power didn't awaken instantly, and every heartbeat Hanari bought her was another step toward activation.
Nesshou (watching from the side, brow furrowed):
Hanari's doing all the attacking… so what's Kurai waiting for?
Narrator:
But Kenzo flowed between the petals with unsettling ease, slipping past each strike as though he already knew where they'd land. Hanari pressed on, her movements quickening, but her eyes flicked once toward Kurai. The time was almost up.
A faint shimmer pulsed behind Kurai — something only she could see. Her focus locked on Kenzo. Just one moment more and—
Kenzo's leg moved, a precise kick. The first petal shattered midair. Hanari's footing faltered, the disruption in her rhythm sending her off balance and to the floor.
The second kick struck another petal, deflecting it directly toward Kurai. She moved instinctively to avoid it, her concentration breaking — whatever she had been building slipping away as her gaze fell toward Hanari instead.
In that instant, Kenzo vanished from sight.
By the time he reappeared, he was behind them. One quick strike to Kurai's neck, and she crumpled silently. Hanari barely had time to look up before his hand met her shoulder — the world went black for her too.
Narrator:
Two down, and Kenzo was still barely winded.
Nesshou:
I just stood there. My legs felt heavier than the floor under me.
Four people — Ibuki, Reiji, Kurai, Hanari — all down. And Kenzo… he wasn't even breathing hard. What was I supposed to do against someone like that?
I didn't even know what I was doing here. I didn't know how to fight. I didn't know how to control whatever power I was supposed to have. Hell, I didn't even know if I could call it out without burning the whole place down.
Before I could gather my thoughts, Kenzo's voice cut through the haze.
"Looks like it's just me and you now, Flame-boy. Show me those mighty flames of yours."
The next thing I knew, he was gone from where he stood. My eyes barely had time to blink before he was right in front of me. His fist caught my face like a freight train, and the world spun as I flew to my left.
Pain roared in my head, but I could still hear him.
"Come on… don't tell me you're holding back."
I pushed against the floor, trying to get up, but he was already there — a shadow over me. His hand clamped around my arm, and in one motion he swung me across the room like I was nothing. My back hit hard.
"You think I can't see it? Those flames are dying to get out."
I barely had time to suck in a breath before he was in my face again. No pause, no mercy.
"What's it gonna take, Flame-boy? What will it take for you to use them?"
My throat felt locked. My body wouldn't move. I was weak, shaking, terrified. No answer came.
Kenzo tilted his head slightly, as if my silence decided it for him.
"Well… I guess I'll just have to end it now."
His arm drew back for the final blow—
"Kenzo!"
The voice snapped through the room like a whip. Daichi stepped in from the doorway, eyes narrowed.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Narrator:
Kenzo's arm froze mid-swing, his head turning toward the voice. Daichi was already crossing the training floor, his coat swaying behind him, eyes scanning the wreckage.
Kenzo (grinning like nothing happened):
"Onii-chan! You came to watch?"
Narrator:
Daichi's gaze swept over the cracked floor, scorch marks, and the five of us scattered across the room. Nesshou had already passed out.
Daichi (low sigh):
"…You've started again."
Kenzo (shrugging, tone too casual):
"Started? Nah, I'm just getting to know my new students."
Narrator:
Ibuki groaned faintly somewhere across the room. Reiji stirred, his breathing sharp. Hanari and Kurai lay still.
Daichi (without looking at Kenzo):
"Enough. You've proven your point."
Kenzo (mock pout):
"Aww, but I was having fun."
Narrator:
Daichi turned his head toward a small group of older students near the wall.
Daichi:
"Get them out of here."
Narrator:
Footsteps approached. Kenzo moved to the side… only to suddenly hook his arm through Daichi's and cling like a younger brother refusing to let go.
Kenzo (sing-song):
"Onii-ochan, you're so serious all the time."
Narrator:
Daichi's jaw tightened. He didn't answer, just let the others carry the five of us away.
The heavy doors of the training room closed behind us, shutting out Kenzo's lingering grin.
Nesshou:
The last thing I remembered was Daichi's voice cutting through the training room… then everything went black.
It wasn't sleep. It was heavier — like being pulled under deep water with no way to fight back. No sound. No light. Just nothing.
Then, slowly, the nothing started to crack. A faint warmth pressed against my eyelids. Voices — distant, muffled — floated in and out, but I couldn't make out the words.
When my eyes finally opened, the ceiling above me blurred in and out of focus. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic, cool and clean.
It took effort, but I turned my head.
Four beds surrounded mine. Ibuki lay to my left, one arm covering his face. Reiji was flat on his back, eyes closed but his posture so straight it looked deliberate. Kurai's hair fanned across her pillow like pale silk, her breathing slow. Hanari rested on her side, hand tucked under her chin, face calm in sleep.
The room was still. No Kenzo. No Daichi. Just the five of us, If you could call it that.
I thought about sitting up, but the ache rolling through my body told me not to try. So I stayed where I was, staring at the ceiling, letting the silence settle in.
Narrator:
When my eyes finally focused, I realized all four of them were already awake.
No one spoke.
Ibuki leaned back against the raised head of his bed, gaze on the ceiling like he couldn't care less. Reiji sat upright, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on the floor in thought. Kurai's hands rested neatly in her lap, her head angled toward the window but her gaze far away. Hanari's fingers fidgeted with the edge of her blanket, a faint crease between her brows.
The air felt… careful.
They'd seen it in the hall. They knew what I was. But no one said a word about it. Not yet.
It was Ibuki who broke the silence.
A short, humorless chuckle left his throat.
Ibuki:
"Hah… what kind of monster is that man?"
Reiji's head tilted, his voice calm but laced with precision.
Reiji:
"That's exactly what I was wondering."
Hanari's tone was softer, but no less certain.
Hanari:
"He moved like the fight was already over before it even began."
Kurai's words were barely above a whisper.
Kurai:
"I didn't even get the chance to finish what I started."
Reiji's eyes narrowed faintly.
Reiji:
"He read every move before it happened. Even mine."
Ibuki let out a quiet breath.
Ibuki:
"And the scary part? He wasn't even serious."
They kept talking about him — Kenzo — but the weight in the room wasn't just about him. I could feel it pressing in from all sides.
I finally spoke.
Nesshou:
"Yeah… Kenzo's on a different level."
The moment the words left my mouth, every gaze shifted to me. Not surprised. Not curious. Just… watching.
Ibuki (eyes locking on mine):
"How can you have something you don't even know how to use?"
I frowned.
Nesshou:
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Ibuki:
"I was there. When you burned everything. When your grandfather ran with you."
The words hit harder than any of Kenzo's strikes.
Nesshou:
"You saw? You saw what happened to him?"
Ibuki didn't answer. His stare was steady, unreadable, like he was deciding whether to tell me or let me choke on the question.
The silence coiled tighter—
The door slid open.
An old nurse stepped in, her posture straight, her gaze sweeping over each of us in turn.
Reiji (quietly, under his breath):
"Obaa-sama."
Her eyes met mine and lingered.
NESSGEEORIGINAL