The bus rumbled to a slow stop, hydraulic brakes hissing like a sigh. Jack Taylor leaned his head against the glass, eyes catching the golden reflection of the school gates through the fogged window. A gust of wind swept past the bus as the doors opened with a low chime.

  Grand Hero Academy.

  Even the name sounded legendary. He stepped off the bus with a small backpack slung over one shoulder, his duffel bag dragging behind him like it was protesting the weight of nerves inside his stomach. The school didn’t look like a school. It looked like a city wearing the skin of a fortress—glistening white towers, kinetic energy rails, patrol drones scanning the perimeter, and a holographic flag waving above the entrance like it belonged to its own country.

  “Whoa…” he mumbled, one foot in front of the other.

  This was real. He was here. The fourth-best hero academy in the world. Number one in the United States. The dream of thousands.

  And Jack Taylor… was walking in like someone who barely made the cut.

  His room had already been assigned—Suite 3A-27, ninth grade dormitory. He dropped off his things, tried to take a breath, but his lungs were too tight. The suite looked like a luxury hotel room—bed with memory foam, personal kitchenette, full-wall window view of the city stretching far beyond the coast.

  But there was no time to settle in. The moment he opened his academy-issued wristband, it blinked red:

  “Proceed to Gym Sector 2 - Combat Tactics & Field Operations. Class 1A. You are late.”

  “...Shit.”

  Jack bolted into the hallway. The school map on his wristband flickered as he tried to follow its confusing arrows through steel-lined halls and glass elevators. Everything looked too clean, too polished, too big. He passed students in sleek uniforms—some already sparring in training arenas, others casually chatting while floating, glowing, or morphing in ways he couldn’t even name.

  He was in over his head. Drowning before even getting wet.

  “Yo! You lost too?”

  Jack turned.

  A guy, maybe his age, popped up beside him like a glitch in the system. Messy red curls, wide grin, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, his uniform already stained with something pink and definitely explosive-looking. He had a lean, athletic build and carried the confident vibe of someone who always said the wrong thing at the wrong time but somehow got away with it.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “I’m Ethan. Newbie too. Class 1A.” He pointed at Jack’s wristband. “We’re both late. That’s destiny.”

  Jack blinked, a little thrown off by the guy’s energy. “Uh… yeah. I guess so. I’m Jack.”

  “Nice. You got lost on the way to the gym too?”

  “No, I’m just—yeah. Yeah, I did.”

  Ethan slapped his back like they’d been friends for years. “Stick with me, man. If we’re late, at least we won’t be late alone.”

  As they turned the corner, a soft voice cut through the air.

  “You’re going the wrong way.”

  Jack looked up—and froze for a moment.

  A girl stood by the corridor junction, arms folded, emerald green eyes sharp beneath short, shoulder-length blonde hair. Her aura didn’t scream authority—it whispered precision. Pale skin, a couple freckles near her cheeks, and a uniform perfectly tucked in. She looked like she stepped out of a military training manual… and had memorized it.

  “You’re Class A, right?” she asked. “You’re heading to Gym Sector 3. You passed it two turns ago.”

  Ethan raised an eyebrow. “And you are?”

  “Lily,” she said, walking past them. “Follow me.”

  Her tone wasn’t bossy. It was decisive. Confident. The kind of voice that didn’t wait for permission to lead.

  Jack and Ethan traded a look—and followed.

  As they walked, Jack noticed the way she scanned her wristband, barely glancing at it while moving like she’d memorized the entire layout already. She wasn’t just sharp. She was serious.

  “Thanks,” Jack said, trying to keep up.

  “You two stick out,” Lily replied. “Freshmen always do. Don’t worry. Half the class probably got lost on their first day.”

  “You got lost?” Ethan smirked.

  She glanced at him, deadpan. “No.”

  Ethan laughed. “Alright, fair.”

  They arrived at the gym—a massive dome-shaped facility that could’ve hosted the Olympics three times over. Inside, students in sleek black-and-blue academy uniforms stood in lines across the metallic floor. The walls were lined with observation drones and simulated terrain modules. Combat instructors walked like wolves—old scars, serious eyes.

  And at the far end, an instructor’s voice boomed.

  “First years, welcome to Combat Tactics & Field Ops! For the next four years, this room will be your proving ground, your hellhole, and your second home.”

  Jack swallowed hard.

  “This is where we separate heroes from hopefuls.”

  Wristbands across the room lit up, projecting names and flashing ranks. But everyone knew the real tests hadn’t started yet.

  Not until the rankings.

  Not until the first clash.

  Jack could feel it already—like the weight of the world was starting to press against his shoulders.

  He glanced at Lily—stoic, unreadable. Then at Ethan, cracking his knuckles like this was a game.

  And him?

  He didn’t even know where to place his hands.

  Welcome to Grand Hero Academy.