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Chapter 117 - ORIENTATION (2)

Chapter 117

ORIENTATION (2)

"Turn left, now right… Go straight, keep going left!"

Yohan's voice rang out with frantic urgency as he leaned forward, gripping the edge of his seat, eyes locked onto the screen from his phone. The layout of Hope Academy sprawled across the screen like a maze. 

"Are you sure this is the fastest way?" Reuel muttered, swerving to the left as directed, the mini car humming with effort.

"Don't question the navigator!" Yohan snapped back, his finger flicking across the display. "The main hall is dead center of the city. Everything else orbits around it, remember?"

In the backseat, IAM glanced at his own display. The time read 8:27 AM.

His expression tightened.

"We're going to be late," he said calmly, but his expression was grave. "Step on the pedal."

"I am going as fast as I can!" Reuel shouted, both hands gripping the wheel as the car tore down the narrow lane, passing other vehicles and startled students who scrambled out of the way. The electric engine whined louder, and IAM could feel the pressure building in his chest— from the where they were heading toward.

Orientation.

The official beginning of everything.

It wasn't just a speech. It was a ceremony meant to welcome the new generation into the most prestigious institution in the country. The speech would outline the core values, the rules and the expectations. The student council would be introduced, along with key staff members—the very people who would determine their fates over the next five years.

IAM leaned back in his seat, eyes briefly closing, trying to focus himself. His fingers tapped slowly on his leg. After the orientation, they'd receive their individual timetables, meet their assigned classes, and then be taken on a formal tour of the academy grounds. It was meant to ease them into the overwhelming reality of their new life… a brief moment of structure before being thrown into the ocean.

The first year would be theory-heavy, they had said. It would lay the foundation. The remaining four would be far more physical. It was where students would break and rebuild themselves, building as much experience as possible. It was where Hope Academy would prove why it was considered not just elite, but untouchable.

He opened his eyes again and checked the time. Still 8:27. Somehow.

Reuel made a hard right turn, the car skidding slightly. "Hold on!" he called out as they whipped around a curve and entered the main square.

There it was.

The main hall loomed in front of them—tall, majestic, ancient and futuristic all at once. The architecture was overwhelming. Red-black-and-white banners fluttered from the high spires like regal flames. Intricate carvings lined the outer walls, and giant obsidian columns flanked the massive front gates that stood open in a grand welcome.

Reuel slammed the car into the designated parking zone, jerking the wheel before it even fully stopped. "Out!" he yelled.

They practically flew out of the car, a blur of limbs, branded uniforms, and adrenaline. Yohan's XMON-designed outfit flapped behind him as he sprinted, the white and black X gleaming like a target across his back. Reuel's red "ROLEN" sleeves shimmered in the morning light, his high-end shoes pounding the marble. And IAM with his graffiti-like red-black-white "MINE" logo bold across his back like a statement of rebellion, ran silently with them. 

They sprinted through the reception area with all the urgency of soldiers late to war. Their shoes tapped sharply against the polished floor, echoing between the tall marble walls and under the elegant, arching ceiling. Following the clearly marked signs pointing toward the orientation hall, they didn't even take a moment to fully appreciate the grandiose architecture around them—though it would have been hard not to notice at least some of it as they sped past.

The interior of the building was something out of a dream—opulent yet tasteful, with stunning artistic touches scattered throughout as if beauty had been the building's accidental byproduct. Ornate paintings framed in dark gold lined the walls, each depicting grand scenes of past ceremonies. Lush, crimson carpets trimmed in black and white ran down the corridors, softening their rushed footsteps.

The lighting overhead glowed a warm amber, diffusing softly against the sculpted ceiling, and somewhere nearby, a subtle fragrance filled the air—a rich and expensive scent that smelled like warm spice and old wood, tinged with something floral. 

They turned a corner and dashed down a broader hall. IAM's heart was racing, but not from the run alone. His eyes flicked down briefly to check the time again.

8:30.

 With a sharp breath, he surged ahead, his legs pumping faster.

The three finally reached the grand double doors of the orientation hall. Wide, imposing, and perfectly polished, they stood open just a crack, golden handles catching the light. A flicker of joy rose in their expressions—relief washing over them as the finish line was now in sight. They had made it. They weren't late. They had made it!

But then—

Disaster struck.

"Don't slow down!" Yohan yelled, laughing with nervous energy. "We're so close! Just keep—"

And then it happened.

Reuel, in his excitement, misjudged the last step.

He stumbled forward, catching his own foot, and with the wild grace of someone who refused to fall alone—he yanked both Yohan and IAM down with him.

"No—Reuel you idiot—!"

CRASH.

The door to the main hall burst open as the three new students fell through it in a pile of limbs, sweat, and mutual suffering. IAM landed face-first into the pristine floor, Yohan tangled over him, Reuel groaning as he clutched his lower back like a wounded old man.

"Ugh… ow," IAM muttered from the ground, not bothering to lift his head.

"My back… That's my back!" Yohan groaned, writhing in pain.

The three of them winced and grumbled, rubbing their arms and shoulders, trying to figure out whose elbow was where and which leg belonged to who. IAM rolled slightly to the side, grimacing as he tried to get back onto his feet. His hood was halfway pulled over his head, and Yohan's knee had landed squarely against his ribs.

A few more groans and struggling moments passed before they finally began untangling themselves.And then they noticed the silence.

Around two hundred and fifty pairs of eyes stared at them.

Rows upon rows of neatly seated students, instructors, and faculty turned to watch the spectacle. At the far front of the vast hall, a woman stood at the podium, her mouth slightly open as if she had just been about to speak.

The hall was magnificent—wide, domed ceiling, engraved walls, massive crystal windows allowing streams of light to pour in. A red carpet stretched from the back to the stage, where an entire panel of staff sat behind a long desk. On the walls were towering banners bearing the crest of Hope Academy: a red H against a black-and-white, like hope standing defiant in a chaotic world.

He turned his head slowly to look up at the massive ornamental clock mounted high on the far wall, framed by a golden circle and glowing gently with white numbers.

8:34.

He stood, straightened his slightly wrinkled collar, then looked around at the hundreds of people staring at him. The room was so quiet he could hear the subtle hum of the overhead lighting.

He cleared his throat. His voice came out dry, slightly hoarse, as he gave a small, awkward cough.

"Ehem… Why's everyone so early?"

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