WELCOME PARTY

Atlas stood frozen, taking in the sheer size of the room before him. It was at least five times larger than the cramped one-bedroom apartment he had lived in. The ceilings stretched high, chandeliers casting a warm golden glow over the polished wooden floors. Luxurious furniture lined the walls, each piece exuding wealth and status. It was a space meant for the elite, something Atlas could never have afforded if not for the scholarship that had changed his life.

He tightened his grip on his duffle bag, feeling oddly out of place. While others relied on their strength, abilities that could conquer cities, Atlas had only his flight. He had never been physically strong, a fact that placed him among the lower ranks. Yet, through sheer dedication, he had sharpened his intellect, by studying every night before going to sleep.

The voice that broke his thoughts was effortless, brimming with confidence.

"Well, I'm sorry about that," the boy said, a grin playing at his lips. "Name's Ryder. Freshman. A-Rank."

Atlas studied him. Ryder looked every bit the prodigy, broad-shouldered, his stance relaxed yet powerful, radiating strength. The kind of person who belonged here.

"An A-Rank and a freshman." Atlas exhaled, shaking his head. "Your life seems to be going well. First day here, and you've already scored an SRC girl. So why are you even here? You're already pretty strong."

Ryder's grin widened. "First of all, she wanted a taste of this," he said, patting his abs with the arrogance of someone who knew exactly how good he looked. "And second, strength has no ceiling. Vortex Academy can push me to S-Rank or to becoming stronger."

"That makes sense." Atlas extended his hand. "Atlas. D-Rank."

Ryder's brow arched slightly, but he took the handshake.

"Brains, huh? Rare." He clapped Atlas on the shoulder, firm enough to remind him of the gap between them. "But brains alone won't keep you alive here." His eyes gleamed with something unreadable.

Then, as if it were already decided, he added, "Oh, by the way, there's a welcome party tonight. You should come."

Atlas shook his head, tossing his duffle onto the bed. "I'm going to the library."

Ryder caught his shoulder before he could move.

Atlas tensed.

The ease in Ryder's grip told him everything. He wasn't even trying, yet Atlas couldn't move forward. This was the difference between an A-Rank and a D-Rank.

"I don't do parties," Atlas muttered, adjusting his glasses. "They're a waste of time."

Ryder smirked. "No one survives here being all work and no play. Especially D-Ranks. You need connections. You might meet powerful future hunters tonight, ones who'll matter when it counts."

Atlas clenched his jaw. He could tell refusing wasn't an option.

"Fine," he relented. "But I'm not staying long."

Ryder grinned. "That's the spirit."

The bass thrummed in Atlas's chest, rattling his ribs. Laughter, drinking, the scent of sweat and expensive cologne filled the air. The room pulsed with energy, a playground for the privileged.

The moment they stepped in, an arm draped over Ryder's shoulder.

"Ryder, who's this?"

Atlas turned.

She was stunning, wavy auburn hair, piercing green eyes, and an easy confidence that came from knowing exactly how much attention she commanded.

"This is Atlas," Ryder introduced. "D-Rank, but don't let that fool you. He's pretty strong."

Atlas glanced at him. A lie.

The girl tilted her head, smirking. "A thinker, huh? I like that." She handed him a drink. "Lilia. B-Rank. Try this."

Atlas hesitated, eyeing the amber liquid.

"I don't—"

"Come on." Lilia leaned closer, her breath warm against his neck. "One sip won't kill you."

Ryder laughed. "Consider it part of your initiation."

A sudden hand snatched the cup away.

"Leave him alone," Asia said coolly, stepping between them.

Ryder's smirk deepened. "Back for seconds?" He leaned in.

"You wish," Asia scoffed. "You didn't even last a minute."

Atlas bristled.

Who did she think she was, making decisions for him?

Without breaking eye contact, he plucked the cup from her grasp and took a sip.

Fire seared down his throat. His eyes watered.

Asia's expression faltered, just for a second. Sadness flickered there before she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Atlas took another sip.

"See? Not so bad and you're even getting protected by Asia, you must be something special," Lilia teased, watching him closely.

Atlas shook his head before taking another sip.

As the night went on, the world became hazier. He vaguely remembered talking—laughing, even. Then, at some point, a mysterious person with a hoodie kept on eyeing him.

"You don't belong here," the person murmured, his eyes shadowed beneath the dim lights. There was something unsettling about the perso, Atlas couldn't tell if it was a boy or girl, something Atlas couldn't quite place.

Atlas's blood turned to ice. "What?"

The figure leaned in.

"Be careful who you trust, Atlas."

Then—

Darkness.

The Morning After

Atlas woke to the soft scent of something floral.

His head pounded. The bed beneath him, too soft. Sheets, too smooth.

Then—

His shirt was gone.

His trousers were gone.

Panic surged through his chest.

Beside him, a voice, smug, knowing.

"Morning, genius."

He turned sharply.

Lilia.

Lying beside him, propped up on one elbow, that same smirk on her lips.

Atlas's stomach dropped. His mind raced, clawing for memories, fragments of the night before. But all he found was nothing.

A void where something important should have been.

And a gut-wrenching certainty that he had lost something he could never get back.

Something he had saved for his future wife and he wasn't going to get it back.

Still in shock of what had happened and without knowing what to do

His phone buzzed.

Mom.

"I have to go," he muttered, scrambling for his clothes. His hands shook as he shoved them on, glasses askew, heart hammering.

He didn't wait for Lilia's response. He didn't want to hear it.

He bolted.

But as soon as he entered his dorm, his stomach clenched.

Two figures sat on the couch.

The hooded figure from yesterday. And her.

A girl he had only seen on social media. Famous. Untouchable.

Ryder strolled in, handing drinks to the guests.

Then, with a lazy, knowing smile, he turned to Atlas.

"So…" Ryder drawled. "How was Lilia?"