VORTEX UNIVERSITY

The bus hissed to a halt, its doors groaning open like the maw of a beast exhaling weary travelers. Across the street stood Vortex University, not merely an institution, but a battleground where the strong carved their legends into history. Its grand entrance loomed, colossal gates adorned with the academy's sigil: two crossed swords, their blades gleaming like they had tasted blood. Beneath them, words etched in steel—

"Beyond Limits. Beyond Human. Unleash the Extraordinary."

Atlas exhaled, a long, slow breath carrying the weight of everything he was leaving behind, and everything he was about to face. His heart thundered like a war drum, anticipation and nerves waging their own silent battle within him.

Inside, the campus hummed with raw energy. Students moved with purpose, some flickering in and out of existence, practicing teleportation, others conjuring flames that danced like fireflies in the air. The very atmosphere crackled with potential, ambition, and power unshackled.

As Atlas moved forward, snippets of conversation drifted past him—

"Did you see the news yesterday? Griffin cleared an S-rank dungeon by himself."

"Impossible. An S-rank clearing an S-rank dungeon solo? That makes him SS-rank, right? Is that even a thing?"

"I've only heard of SS-ranks in games…" said another.

Atlas's steps faltered, his smile vanishing like a candle snuffed out by the wind. Griffin. The name alone coiled around his chest like a snake. Not out of admiration, not because he was a hero to the world, but because Griffin was his father.

A man who had abandoned his family the moment he reawakened as an S-rank, casting them aside like dead weight holding him back from greatness. Atlas had waited. Hoped. Believed, only to be met with silence. Over the years, hope withered, replaced by something sharper, colder—hatred.

Fine. He didn't need Griffin. He would carve his own legend. Not as his son. Not as his shadow. But as something greater.

But first, he needed to find his way.

The campus stretched vast, a labyrinth of towering buildings and sleek modern architecture, each more imposing than the last. For all his resolve, Atlas found himself hopelessly lost.

"Excuse me."

The voice sliced through his thoughts.

Some students scattered at the sound of it.

He turned.

She stood there, poised and confident. Beautiful. Her hair cascaded in soft waves, catching the afternoon light like strands of woven gold. But it was the badge on her chest that caught his eye, SRC. Student Representative Council. Only the top-tier students at Vortex earned that rank.

"You're late for the assembly," she said, arching an eyebrow. "You're gonna miss the dean's speech."

Atlas scratched the back of his head. "Yeah…about that. I can't seem to find my way."

Her lips quirked into a smirk. "Lost, huh? My bad. Thought you were one of those students who flunked class."

Atlas felt his pulse quicken. Damn it. He had faced worse, yet here he was, tripping over his own heartbeat.

"I'm River," she said, "Second year. Part of the SRC. I was headed that way, so walk with me."

"I—I...uh..." He cleared his throat, trying to salvage whatever dignity he had left. "Thank you, I'm Atlas."

Her laugh was light, effortless.

She turned, and he fell into step beside her.

They soon arrived at the courtyard, a sprawling arena where thousands of students had gathered. At the center stood a stage. And upon it, a man. Not just any man.

The dean, known far and wide as Old Man Clyde, was an A-rank hunter. His age had earned him the moniker, but his history was what solidified it. He once went toe-to-toe with an S-rank hunter, a man who had unleashed chaos, destroying everything in his path. Clyde had managed to defeat him, but not without cost. His arm had been rendered useless, forcing him into an early retirement and leaving him as a legend who almost reached S-rank.

His presence alone commanded attention. Old, yet nothing frail about him. His eyes, sharp, piercing, belonged to a man who had seen wars, led men into battle, and emerged as something more than mortal.

When he spoke, his voice rolled like thunder.

"I greet you all, and welcome you to Vortex. A place where warriors are forged. Where history is written in blood and triumph. Some of you are here to chase glory. Some for the wealth that comes with power. But let me make one thing clear, less than half of you will make it.

Our world is cruel. It does not care for your dreams. It does not care for your potential. Some of you will bleed. Some of you will break. Some of you will fail.

But for those who endure…for those who rise…"

The crowd fell into silence. Thousands of students stood motionless, the weight of his words settling like a shroud.

"You will stand among legends."

Atlas clenched his fists. Good. Let the weak falter. Let the cowards flee. He wasn't here to play games. He was here to rise.

After the assembly, students were handed their dorm keys, laptops, and basic stationary. Atlas walked through the long corridors, finally arriving at his room.

"Room 25," he muttered to himself, going door to door until he found it.

He reached for the doorknob—then stopped.

A sock. Hanging from the handle.

Atlas stared at it. His eye twitched.

"You've got to be kidding me."

With a sigh, he slumped against the wall, pulled out the varsity-issued laptop, and logged onto the Wi-Fi.

He clicked on YourTube Shorts.

If he was going to be locked out of his own room, he might as well make time suffer with him.

Minutes passed. The door swung open.

A guy walked out, wrapped in nothing but a towel, muscles carved from stone, the kind of face that had girls abandoning all sense of reason. And behind him...

A girl.

She stepped into the hallway, her gaze locking onto his.

Atlas's breath hitched.

Her.

Asia.

His childhood friend.

The girl who had once sworn they would face the world together.

The same girl who had turned her back on him the moment she awakened, leaving him behind like dead weight.

For three years, they hadn't spoken.

And now, here she was, marked by time, different yet familiar. Tattoos adorned her arm, a piercing on her nose, the SRC badge hanging from her ear like an earring.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then she stepped forward, eyes searching his. "Atlas...?"

His heartbeat roared, memories flooding in, but he killed the emotion before it could rise.

Atlas turned, stepping past them both without a word, entering his dorm.

She watched him go, something flickering in her gaze, regret? Sadness? Maybe both.

The door shut behind him.

His new roommate let out a breath, rubbing the back of his head. "Shit, man. Is she your girlfriend? I, uh…didn't want to make things awkward with my new roommate, so, uh...sorry?"

Atlas forced a hollow smile. "She's just somebody I used to know."

Then, glancing at the sock, he added dryly—

"And I thought you were her boyfriend, with the sock on the door and all."