Chapter 1: Arrival

January 1st, 2018, Monday

A bus entered the city, passing through a giant mechanical gate towering more than 50 meters. The radio played J-pop from the local station, the city sprawling with an abundance of grass. It seemed oddly serene for a place housing a massive, foreboding building surrounded by cliffs, with visible homes etched into the rock.

The grey bus, approximately 19 meters in length, was armored, not to keep people out but to confine those within. As the bus moved, citizens gathered around, brandishing signs and hurling items, accompanied by harsh words. The signs bore messages like "Criminals, Heathens, Devils, No half breeds, Burn in hell." The procession continued until it reached the ominous structure at the city center.

Inside the bus, a group of children, no older than 15, conversed animatedly. They wore chains and bracelets made of a peculiar metallic substance. Amidst their chatter, two students near the back focused on the unfolding scene outside.

"How loud do you think she'll scream? The way it's so curdling just gets me going, you know?" said one with an eyepatch and a scar across his face.

The other, standing next to him, replied with an excited expression, "She ain't for me. I'd rather go for the guys. All that blood makes good lub..."

Before he could finish, a student slammed his fist on his chair, glaring at the two. "HOW COULD YOU SAY SUCH THINGS? THOSE PEOPLE ARE INNOCENT, AND YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT THEM LIKE THEY'RE NOTHING BUT BLOOD-FILLED RAGDOLLS YOU PLAY WITH! BOTH OF YOU DESERVE TO BURN IN HELL WITH THE REST OF THE CRIMINAL FILTH!" The two looked back at him, one's mood shifting to anger.

"Hey pal, you're no better. There's a reason you're here, so no need to be an ass unless you want me to gut you, got it?" the self-proclaimed righteous kid warned. He stood up, revealing a well-toned body with bright orange hair and tattoos adorning his skin. "I'd like to see you try it," he challenged, giving the other student a death stare.

The black-haired kid intervened, holding back his friend. "Don't you realize who that is? Look at him. There's only one non-human devil that looks like that. Agni Flamehart," he informed his friend. The angry expression on Agni's face softened, and he sat down.

"Hey, you orange-haired brat! You may act like you're better than us, but you're the worst one here. Don't forget it, you aura-using scum. I might as well spit on your face now," the eyepatched student stated. Amidst the commotion in the back, a slender, well-built boy with black hair and purple ringed eyes, adorned with tattoos, approached the group with a mysterious smile.

"Well, aren't you a chatty group? How unpleasant to see non-superhumans in the same bus as me. It's almost as if we're equals," he remarked with a laugh, glancing at the scarred kid.

"What did you say about me, pal? Say that to my fac... uh, never mind," the scarred kid started but halted as he saw the smile on the mysterious boy's face – not malice or anger, but a smile hinting at pure sadistic intent. Locking eyes with him, the scarred kid changed his tune, "Well, how great. You know when to keep your inferior mouth shut. I don't see how you could ever be convicted of a crime when you squirm like a puppy the way you do." The mysterious boy turned around, laughing, "Now stay quiet like a good little puppy and don't cause noise."

As he walked away, the eyepatched kid attempted to attack him from behind with a hidden knife. Swiftly, the mysterious boy swept his feet, pinning him down effortlessly and disarming him. Holding the knife, he cut into the scarred kid's back, who screamed in pain. "How generous to donate your knife. I didn't even have to overexert myself. I'm holding your whole body down with my non-dominant hand. Very fun, wouldn't you say?" he remarked.

Agni watched in amazement, choosing to ignore the gruesome scene by lying on his arms. The mysterious boy, having finished his display, looked at the silent one with a malicious smile. "Pl... pl... pl... please, I didn't even do anything. It won't happen again. I barely even knew him. Do whatever you want to him, not me, please!" the scarred kid begged for his life. The mysterious boy, after releasing him and the knife, approached him, face to face.

"What's my name?" he demanded. The scarred kid, nervously and as if on the verge of tears, replied, "I'm sorry, but I don't know it. Please, I beg, I beg, I beg, I beg, forgive me." He went down on both knees, crying. The mysterious boy squatted down and said, "Aamon. It's Aamon Akaba. No need to be so tense, guy. Stand up. No hard feelings, alright?" He gave a smile and walked away, leaving the scarred kid to pathetically crawl to his friend, still paralyzed with fear.

"Almost got me killed, bastard. I'll chop you up!" the scarred kid threatened as he wormed his way to his friend. Right then, blood started dripping from his one good eye, followed by a loss of vision and waves of pain. A small metallic needle had been thrust into his eye, causing him to roll in a puddle of his own blood and screams.

Aamon thought to himself, "A proper punishment for an inferior. The actions of his fellow man are his own." The bus driver muttered, "Kids these days," and asked, "Hey, what's going on back there?" Aamon replied with a mocking tone, "Whoops! It seems this fellow has accidentally tripped and fallen directly into a corner of the seat eye-first. What a whimsical set of events, wouldn't you say, Agni? It's as if they're being punished for offending us superhumans, hmm?" He laughed, and finally, the bus came to a stop. The bus driver declared, "Alright, you little rats. We're here at Clifton M Fischbach's School of Academics, Prestidigitation, Aura, and Juvenile Correctional Facility. Now leave my damn bus."