Student Council War 1

The air was thick with tension as both factions stood at the edge of the Obsidian Forest. The towering trees loomed like ancient sentinels, their gnarled branches clawing at the sky. The morning sun painted the battlefield in hues of gold and crimson—fitting for what was to come.

Floating cameras buzzed overhead, their lenses capturing every moment for the academy's spectators. The professors moved between the ranks, handing out safety gear—thin, silver suits lined with emergency teleportation runes.

"Pathetic," I muttered, rolling my shoulders as the suit adjusted to my frame. It wouldn't stop pain. It wouldn't stop blood. It would just yank us out before death.

A small mercy.

The head professor, a grizzled man with a voice like gravel, stepped forward.