"Sorry about that. Got lost on the road of life."

The excuse was so blatantly half-assed that even Juan cracked open one eye to stare. I couldn't help but smirk—our supposed instructor had the disheveled look of someone who'd crawled out of bed ten minutes ago and stumbled directly into our classroom without bothering to check a mirror.

His rumpled white button-up shirt had what looked suspiciously like yesterday's coffee stain near the collar, and his black tie hung loosely around his neck like it had given up on life.

Braxton's gaze swept the room, taking in all fifteen of us with the enthusiasm of a man being asked to count grains of sand on a beach. "So. You're the new litter of puppies. Great." The unlit synth-cigarette dangling from his lips bobbed with each syllable, his expression a masterclass in professional indifference.

He walked over to a folding chair that looked like it might collapse under the weight of a strong breeze and dropped into it. The chair groaned but held, a survivor against all odds—much like its occupant, judging by the faded battle scars visible on his forearms where his sleeves were rolled up. The fluorescent lights above cast harsh shadows across his face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes.

"Alright, let's get this over with." He waved one hand in a vague gesture that might have been directing us to gather closer, though none of us moved. His coffee cup—emblazoned with the words "World's Okayest Hunter"—steamed in his other hand.

"I don't do icebreakers. I don't care about your favorite color or your hopes and dreams or whatever other feel-good bullshit they taught you at orientation. Tell me your name, your Aspect, your goal, and the thing you hate most in this world."

The classroom fell silent. Through the windows, I could see clouds gathering on the horizon—a fitting backdrop for what was shaping up to be a thoroughly uninspiring first day. The other students shifted uncomfortably in their seats, some exchanging glances, others staring intently at nothing in particular.

He took another sip of coffee, wincing slightly at what I assumed was either its temperature or its taste. Probably both.

"Go." His finger jabbed toward Raphael, who sat rigidly at the front of the class, already radiating enough hostility to power a small city. "You. Angry kid. Start."

Raphael's jaw clenched hard enough to crack teeth, the muscles in his neck visibly tensing. His eyes—fierce amber pools of barely contained rage—narrowed to slits. "Raphael Vargas. Kinetic Overcharge. My goal is to be Number One."

He jerked his thumb toward me with enough force that it looked like he was trying to stab the air between us. "And I hate weaklings who get in my way and talk big without backing it up."

I kept my expression deliberately neutral, though internally I was cataloging every twitch of his body language. Another alpha dog marking his territory. Predictable. Useful. The fact that I'd already earned his animosity without even trying spoke volumes about his insecurity.

"Noted," Braxton said, sounding completely unbothered as he took another sip from his mug, his eyes already sliding to the next student. "Next."

Isabelle stepped forward with the bearing of someone addressing a royal court. "Isabelle Okoye. My Aspect is Fujin, a wind-based enhancement. My goal is to find a cause worthy of my strength. I dislike inefficiency and wasted potential."

Braxton's eyebrow quirked. "Philosophical. Next."

Juan didn't even open his eyes. "Juan Navarro. Kinetic Ace. I want to retire by thirty. I hate mornings and people with too much energy."

"Same, kid. Same." Braxton actually nodded in solidarity. "Next."

Jaime practically vibrated with excitement. "Jaime De Valle! My Aspect is Star Chain, where each blow becomes stronger than the last! My goal is to become a Hero worthy of my mentor, Yuki-sensei! And I hate—" He paused, genuinely considering. "Actually, I don't really hate anything. The world is too beautiful!"

Several people groaned.

"Of course you don't," Braxton muttered. "Next."

Hikari raised her hand like an eager student. "Hikari Miyamoto! Bōm Ba Yé! I add virtual mass to things when I hit them! I want to get stronger every day and protect my sister! I hate... um..." She thought hard. "When people give up without trying!"

"Twin number one, noted. Twin number two?"

Akari's smile was pure predatory charm. "Akari Miyamoto. Adamantine Chainbinder. My goal is to find someone interesting enough to keep me entertained." Her dark green eyes slid toward me. "And I hate boring people who can't surprise me."

Yeah, you're going to be a problem.

"Wonderful. Next."

Skylar pushed off from the wall she'd been leaning against. "Skylar Amane. Phantasm Smoke. I make things that aren't real seem real enough to kill you. My goal?" She shrugged. "Survive long enough to see if this circus is worth the price of admission. I hate liars who believe their own bullshit."

Her indigo-and-pink streaked hair caught the fluorescent light as she smirked directly at me.

Braxton's lips twitched. Might have been a smile. "Honest. Refreshing. You."

Jacob jumped slightly, pushing his glasses up with a trembling hand. "J-Jacob Williams! Bullet Time! I can s-see things really fast when I'm stressed, which is, um, always. My goal is to not die horribly? And I hate confrontation and violence and—"

"Got it. Anxious kid who won't shut up when nervous. Next."

Malachi Moore spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "Malachi Moore. Shadow Step. I want to understand what I'm becoming. I hate the light."

Edgy. Predictable. Moving on.

Marco kept it simple. "Marco Diaz. Force Push. Want to prove I belong here. Hate people who look down on others."

"Standard hero complex. Next."

Soomin's voice came out small and shy. "P-Pan Soomin. My Aspect is... it's called Nine-Tailed Fox Spirit, but I can only do one tail right now. My goal is to send money home to my parents. And I hate..." She swallowed. "I hate feeling useless."

Something flickered in Braxton's expression. Sympathy, maybe. "Fair enough. You."

Noah stepped forward, posture rigid as a soldier. "Noah Gray. Kinetic Weave. Fabric manipulation. I hate those who would use her for their own gain."

"No goal then, okay." Braxton's tired eyes swung to the twins. "You two."

Akari grinned. "We already said ours."

"I know. I'm establishing that you're interchangeable to me until one of you does something memorable. Next."

Natalia scoffed. "Natalia Kuzmina. Telekinetic Freeze. My goal is to become a S-Rank hunter. I hate those who make excuses for their inadequacies."

Braxton sighed. "Got it, next."

Emi stepped forward, her voice gentle but steady. "Emi Aoyama. Aura of Respite. I heal people. My goal is to make sure everyone comes home safe from every mission. And I hate..." Her reddish-brown eyes found mine for just a heartbeat. "I hate when people pretend kindness is weakness."

Ouch. Message received, Keystone.

"Combat medic with feelings. Got it. And last but probably least—" Braxton's gaze landed on me.

"The viral sensation himself. The Stray Dog. The kid who made a thirty-second clip that somehow cost me three hours of my life answering emails from concerned faculty. Go ahead. Introduce yourself to your classmates."

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