Let The Game Begin

The time had finally come for the main event of the Inter-Academy Festival: the multi-day Capture the Flag competition, which was more of a mock war than a simple game.

Each participating student had been given an artifact designed to prevent serious injuries and act as an elimination mechanism. If a student's artifact detected severe damage, they would be removed from the competition. Professors were also overseeing the entire event, ensuring that nothing went wrong or spiraled out of control.

Six hundred students in total were divided among their respective academies, each sent to one of the six locations where their flags were stationed. The battlefield wasn't just an island but a sprawling, broken landscape of deserted buildings, ruins of various types, and scattered supplies. It was clear they would be here for days.

At the heart of each territory stood the main headquarters—a polished, fortified structure where the flags were kept. This was no ordinary game of capture the flag.

Mythos Academy's one hundred students, including Class 2-A, were teleported to their designated location through portals. No relics were permitted for the sake of fairness. 

This was war.

The moment I stepped out of the portal, the air shifted. The buzz of the teleportation energy faded, replaced by the cold, open atmosphere of the battlefield. We stood on the roof of our headquarters, a tall, polished structure in the center of our territory, surrounded by the broken remnants of old buildings and dense forests that stretched into the distance. The wind brushed against my face, carrying with it the faint sound of rustling leaves and the weight of what was to come.

My eyes immediately locked onto the flag. It stood proudly in the center of the rooftop, its design a powerful symbol of the academy's legacy and strength. It was larger than I expected, the deep blue fabric rippling in the wind, embroidered with intricate golden patterns that shimmered under the daylight. At the center of the flag was the academy's crest: a phoenix rising from a ring of stars, each star representing one of the great forces that Mythos had overcome throughout its history. The phoenix, its wings spread wide, was woven with silver threads, giving it an almost ethereal glow. It symbolized rebirth, resilience, and the unyielding pursuit of excellence.

It stood tall, fluttering gently in the breeze, an unspoken challenge to anyone who dared approach. This was our core. Our symbol. It was where the enemy would eventually aim to strike, and where we'd make our final stand if it came to that.

Behind me, the rest of Class 2-A emerged from the portal one by one, the air around us tense with anticipation. Lucifer was the first to step forward, his sharp gaze sweeping over the surroundings, analyzing every detail. His presence alone radiated authority, his confidence making it feel as if victory was already within our grasp.

Jin Ashbluff followed next, silent and composed as always. His eyes, cold and calculating, took in the scene with a quiet intensity. There was no smirk, just that steady gaze that made it clear he was already thinking several steps ahead.

Seraphina, always alert, moved with purpose, her posture straight, her hand resting lightly at her side as her eyes scanned the horizon. She was ready for anything, her quiet focus exuding the confidence of a warrior who knew her own strength.

Rachel, standing beside me, took a slow, deliberate breath, her usual calm masking the sharp intellect behind her eyes. Her focus was already on the task ahead, her mind undoubtedly running through strategies and contingencies.

Ren, ever the outlier with his confident swagger, stretched his shoulders before cracking his knuckles. Despite his laid-back demeanor, there was a sharpness to his movements, a readiness that hinted at the storm of power he wielded beneath the surface.

Ian stepped up next, his gaze stoic, but there was a subtle hint of excitement in his eyes. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the fire within him simmering just beneath the surface.

Finally, Cecilia took her place, her usually bright demeanor tempered by the seriousness of the situation. Her eyes flickered between each of us, her lips pressed into a thin line. Despite the weight of expectation, there was a calm in her expression that showed her resolve.

This was the best of Mythos Academy, and we were ready.

Now came the crucial part: the division of roles. This wasn't going to be anything like the mock war we had last year against the second years.

The situation was different, and so were the stakes. On paper, we were stronger than our opponents, at least on average. But the real issue was the numbers. We were outnumbered five to one.

Sure, the strength of the average Mythos Academy student nearly leveled the playing field, but numbers mattered. There was a reason Mythos Academy had "lost" to the combined academies in past festivals, only to win the event based on total points accumulated. Outmatching them in raw power wasn't enough; we needed to be smart. Tactics, precision, and flawless execution were going to be the keys to winning this war.

Especially since, in the novel, Mythos Academy actually lost to Slatemark Academy in the final tally. They had collected more points overall, exploiting weaknesses we couldn't afford to leave exposed this time.

Lucifer's piercing verdant eyes shifted toward me, studying my expression.

Ah, right. That decision still lingered.

Who would be the Commander?

Last time, Lucifer was the obvious choice for Commander—his strength had been so far above everyone else's that it was unquestioned. But now, the situation was different. In the novel, the issue had cropped up when Ren's and Lucifer's power levels became too close, creating a crack in our leadership, one that Jack had exploited to win.

Right now, Lucifer was much stronger than his novel counterpart, but so was I. In terms of raw strength, we were nearly equal. The only way to truly know who was stronger would be to fight it out, but that was a waste of energy we couldn't afford. This wasn't the time to get caught up in pride.

"Lucifer," I said, breaking the silent tension between us, "how about you take the role of Commander, and I'll act as Head Strategist?"

Lucifer blinked, clearly caught off guard. Around us, I could sense the quiet ripple of surprise from the other students. But after a moment, he nodded. "I agree."

"Good," I continued. "We should have Ren, Rachel, Jin, Ian, Cecilia, and Seraphina lead their own units as Captains, each with fifteen students. Rose Springshaper and Leon Gillwood can serve as the other Strategists."

Lucifer considered it for a moment, then nodded again. "Agreed. We'll balance the units in terms of strength but make sure each unit's function aligns with the abilities of its Captain."

I couldn't help but smile wryly. He was improving. His leadership had sharpened over time, probably a result of the training and experience his father had thrown at him over the summer, along with mastering his second Gift.

We had our roles now, but the real work was about to begin.

"Let's check out the base first and then move on to scouting," I suggested. "Ren and Jin would be ideal for scouting given their abilities, so they can lead their units and cover the area around us. Our top priority is finding supplies and identifying choke points we can use to our advantage."

Everyone seemed to be on board with the plan. Lucifer gave a firm nod, adding, "Alright, then let's start dividing the units. Rose Springshaper, Leon Gillwood—step aside, you two are our Strategists now. The rest of the ninety students will be split based on your strengths."

I couldn't help but smile as I watched it all come together. The foundation was being set, and everything was falling into place.

Let the game begin.