The train rolled into Sallensberg as the sun dipped low over the city, casting long shadows between the cobblestone streets and iron lampposts. Akio Kazama stepped off, the crisp evening air filling his lungs. The city was alive—smells of baked bread, smoke from chimneys, and the faint tang of magic lingering in the air.
A white dove, glowing faintly and elegant as moonlight, landed on a nearby railing. It tilted its head toward him, then fluttered forward, guiding him through the bustling streets. Akio followed silently, his eyes calm but alert, noting every alley and passerby.
At last, the academy gates appeared—tall, imposing, and carved with the Black Sun crest. Students milled about, laughter and chatter echoing across the courtyard.
As Akio approached, a guard stepped forward, hand raised. "Identification."
Akio's fingers instinctively brushed the card in his suitcase. He met the guard's eyes, both wearing serious, unwavering expressions. Without a word, he handed over the card. The guard scanned it, nodded once, and stepped aside.
Crossing the threshold, the courtyard was suddenly filled with a mechanical voice, crisp and commanding:
"All students, press the button located at the bottom of your suitcase."
Akio glanced at his black leather suitcase and found a small, round button hidden beneath its base. Pressing it, a soft click echoed. In an instant, his uniform transformed, golden lines of energy tracing the seams, forming a combat-ready costume.
Around him, other students' suits materialized in dazzling arrays—colors and designs reflecting their abilities. The atmosphere thickened with anticipation, tension, and the faint scent of ozone.
"Wear your uniforms immediately," the voice continued, "and proceed directly to the battle arena."
Akio adjusted his newly-formed attire, muscles tensing. Following the crowd, he arrived at a massive arena, open to the sky, the ground scorched and marked with the signs of countless past battles.
"Your objective," the voice declared, "is to fight to the brink of surrender or until the opponent shows signs of exhaustion. Engage with precision, strategy, and resolve."
Akio's eyes narrowed. The echoes of his past, the massacre of his family, the white light that had saved him—all surged within. He clenched his fists, ready.
The academy wasn't just a school. It was a testing ground for survival, and Akio Kazama had no intention of holding back.