Vermillion Gates University

It's been two months since highschool graduation

Ken Yamada woke up with a yawn, sunlight streaming through his windows. 

His apartment, a lonely perch above city noise, felt like his own little kingdom now, parents gone for abroad, their voices just echoes on the phone.

Pajamas, wrinkled friends from too many solo nights, clung to him as he shuffled to the kitchen. Coffee, his morning hero, gurgled encouragement. In the mirror, messy hair and tired eyes.

Today, pancakes. No more school slop, just him, batter, and syrup.

The sizzle of pancakes cut off mid-flip as Mom's voice crackled through the phone. "Ken, honey," her usual lilt replaced by a tense tremor, "there's... a problem."

Ken's fork hovered, "Uh-huh." His tone, flat as a dropped spatula.

"Remember college? The application fees, the dorm deposit?" Mom's voice hitched. "Turns out... things are tighter here than we thought. I won't be able to send money for a while."

Silence stretched, punctuated only by the tick-tock of the wall clock.

Mom fumbled. "So... maybe online courses? There are some free ones, I looked. You could work part-time, still get a degree..."

Ken ran a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on the greasy pan. "I'll find something"

"I love you, Honey" Mom's voice hitched

"Likewise" Ken responded

He clicked off, the phone a dead weight in his hand. The pancakes remained untouched.

Standing tall at six feet, his physique held the effortless grace of a basketball player – all long limbs and sun-kissed skin. (But he isn't athletic)

His sharp jawline and angular features, sculpted by adolescent hormones. 

His eyes, though, were a different story. A storm of stormy gray, often veiled by lashes that rivaled a raven's wing, they held an intelligence that was almost unsettling in its intensity

His intellect, a supernova in the classroom, blazed with a brilliance that left teachers breathless and classmates envious in his previous university. He aced every test and devoured every textbook.

Girls, intrigued by his aura and brooding intensity, would cast hopeful glances in his direction. Ken, lost in the constellations of his own thoughts, remained blissfully, tragically unaware.

Life for him was a monochrome landscape, punctuated only by the vibrant fireworks of his internal world. He found solace in the rustling symphony of turning pages

He wasn't shy, not exactly. He just didn't understand the language of socializing and small talks. And those feathers of flirtation, landed at his feet like deflated balloons

He craved connection, ached for the warmth of shared laughter, but the bridge between his thoughts and the world remained a chasm he couldn't bridge.

Ken then heads upstairs, reaching his room, he collapsed onto his bed

He then reached for his phone and typed the words "Free universities."

The search engine churned, spitting out a vast ocean of possibilities. Unfamiliar names and acronyms swarmed the screen.

State colleges, online programs, scholarships with impossible hoops. He clicked, then clicked again.

He scrolled further, eyes numb from the screen's relentless glare.

Then, a flicker. A single name, a lone island in the vast digital ocean: Vermilion Gates University. The name, exotic yet strangely familiar, snagged his attention. He clicked, the screen leading to an empty, bare page. 

No gleaming campus photos, no illustrious alumni, no glowing student testimonials.

Just one, glorious detail: 

Graduate: Be financially free for a lifetime

Dismissing it as a scam was easy. The internet was littered with such siren songs, luring the desperate with promises that evaporated like smoke.

"Free," he muttered, the word tasting like ashes in his mouth. No prestigious halls, no ivy-league professors, just this…shadowy University. 

Yet, it was the only option left.

He imagined life beyond the shackles of debt, his potential unleashed by the freedom it promised. 

His academic prowess, undeniable and insatiable, could be the key to unlocking that future. Vermilion Gates, with its cryptic name and bare website, felt like a gamble, a leap of faith into the unknown. But it was also a lifeline, a chance to break free from the suffocating grip of financial limitations.

"Vermilion Gates University," he repeated, the name tasting oddly metallic on his tongue. "It'll do."

He then typed "Location"

The screen blinked, revealing a single line "Uncharted Island, coordinates provided upon acceptance."

"Island, huh?" He murmured

He wasn't naive. He knew the island could be a mirage, a gilded cage for the desperate.

But fear was a luxury he couldn't afford. He had tasted the ashes of disappointment, the suffocating grip of debt, and the shackles of limited options. This was his chance to break free, to forge his own destiny, brick by hard-won knowledge.

With a final, decisive click, he booked a flight to the nearest coastal city. The island, with its secrets and its promises, awaited.

Ken's boarding pass felt like a passport to freedom, not another mundane flight ticket. The airport buzzed with nervous travelers, their apprehension a stark contrast to his steely calmness. 

Suddenly, a tremor of movement across the queue - a skinny guy, clothes rumpled, face etched with raw fear. 

He clutched a ticket that mirrored Ken's, his voice a trembling whisper when he spoke.

"Excuse me, sir," he stammered, "are you, by any chance, also…going to Vermillion Gates?"

Ken nodded

The man's eyes widened, the irises dilating in stark panic. "But…but everyone says it's a trap," he hissed, his voice barely a whisper. "They say it's…" He choked, the word lodged in his throat like a bone.

Ken studied him, the man's fear a morbidly fascinating counterpoint to his own unwavering sense of control. "Fear is a common currency in this world," he said, his voice laced with cold amusement. "But those who succumb to it rarely find fortune."

The man, swallowed by his terror, seemed to shrink before him. His shoulders slumped, the boarding pass trembling in his clammy hand

Ken turned away, leaving the man to drown in his own fear.

The boarding call echoed through the terminal, a summons to the unknown. Ken stepped forward, his footsteps deliberate, his heart a steady drumbeat of anticipation. 

The man with the trembling pass faded into the background, a lost soul cast adrift on a sea of fear. 

But Ken, eyes fixed on the horizon, had no time for such doubts. He was on his way to sculpt his own fortune.

Ken finally stepped inside the plane and settled into his cramped seat

He glanced at the man with the crumpled ticket, now huddled deep in the corner, the fear still clinging to him like a damp shroud.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, plunging the plane into a momentary gloom. A collective gasp echoed through the air, followed by a chorus of muttered complaints. 

The lights sputtered back on, revealing a flight attendant with a strained smile. "Just a minor electrical glitch, folks," she chirped, her voice barely audible over the rising murmur. "Nothing to worry about."

Ken's lips twitched. Minor glitch? In the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a storm? He doubted it. But the fear hadn't reached him.

"Don't you worry," the man with the crumpled ticket mumbled from his corner, his voice surprisingly firm. "It's all part of the test. Vermillion Gates picks its students carefully."

Ken raised an eyebrow. The coward suddenly spouting wisdom? He leaned back, intrigued. Perhaps there was more to this man than met the eye.

The wheels kissed the tarmac with a smooth hiss, the final breath of tension released in a collective sigh of relief. 

Ken remained unfazed, his eyes already scanning the unfamiliar landscape bathed in the golden light of dusk. Vermillion Gates. He stepped out onto the tarmac, the humid air a thick cloak against his skin, the scent of exotic blooms an unfamiliar intoxicant.

Palm trees swayed in the gentle breeze, casting long shadows on the soft sand.

"Welcome," A figure spoke, their voice a resonant echo, "to Vermillion Gates. Those who seek a future forged by intellect and honed by hardship, step forward."

Ken did not hesitate. He strode forward, a predator entering its den, ready to face the challenges that lay beyond the shadows.

The doors behind the people hissed shut, the sound sealing them off from the outside world.