[Opening Scene – Nova Hero High]
Nova Hero High was a shining monument to power.
Not knowledge, not discipline, not even justice — but raw, unshakable power.
Its towers stretched into the clouds like fangs biting into the sky, their walls reinforced with shimmering energy fields and engraved with glowing runes to withstand even the most catastrophic of powers. Its classrooms weren't simple lecture halls but arenas lined with impact-proof glass, equipped with suppression fields, medbots, and automated drones for emergency response.
Every corner of the academy hummed with life and violence. Students sparred in courtyards, blasting energy at each other while teachers calmly recorded data. Fire streaked across the training yard. Bolts of lightning snapped between the hands of laughing teenagers. One boy casually lifted a bus over his head as if it weighed no more than paper, while another girl carved patterns into the pavement with invisible blades of wind just to pass the time.
It was a city of prodigies. A kingdom of rising gods.
And then… there was him.
Isaac Fareplay.
A boy so forgettable that even when mocked, most forgot his name. His hair was an unremarkable dark brown, his build slim without muscle, and his ability — officially classified as minor reflex enhancement — placed him at the very bottom of the academy hierarchy.
An F-Class.
---
[Hallway Scene]
"Out of the way, loser!"
The shove came out of nowhere. Isaac stumbled, crashing against the lockers. His notebooks spilled across the polished tile floor, pages scattering like leaves in a storm.
A group of students walked past, laughing. Not maliciously. Not cruelly. Just casually, like brushing dust from their jackets.
They didn't even need a reason. He was weak. In Nova Hero High, weakness was a sin.
Isaac crouched quickly, scrambling to gather his books before someone stepped on them. But a boot came down anyway, pressing hard on the pages. He froze, following the boot upward. A sneer greeted him.
Kaelen Drakov.
Flame Prodigy. S-Class. Nova's golden boy. His very presence drew attention like fire in the dark. His hair burned faintly like embers, his eyes smoldered like coal, and he carried himself with the arrogant certainty of someone who knew he was destined to stand at the top.
"Well, well," Kaelen said lazily, his friends chuckling behind him. "If it isn't Fareplay. Still crawling around the floor like a dog?"
Isaac's throat tightened. He said nothing, lowering his gaze. He knew better than to talk back.
"Pathetic," Kaelen muttered, lifting his boot and walking off. His group followed, laughter echoing in the hall.
Isaac gathered the rest of his notebooks silently. His hands shook, though he forced his face blank. He wouldn't cry. Not here. Not in front of them.
But inside, the words echoed: Why am I even here…?
---
[Classroom Combat Training]
"Today, we'll focus on live combat!" Instructor Marrick barked. His voice was gravel, his body scarred, his power — steel manipulation — legendary among veterans. "Pair up. Show me what you've got."
The classroom buzzed as students eagerly chose partners. Lightning crackled. Flames flared. Some laughed, some grinned with predatory excitement.
Isaac stood in the back, waiting. Watching. Hoping someone — anyone — might pick him.
No one did.
The instructor's eyes swept the room, narrowing when they found him. "Fareplay. You'll spar with Kaelen."
A ripple of amusement ran through the students. Isaac's stomach sank.
Kaelen smirked. "With pleasure."
The arena was cleared. Students lined the edges, whispers buzzing like flies. Isaac stood trembling in the center, facing Kaelen whose hands already burned with hungry fire.
"Don't die too fast," Kaelen said, grinning.
The match began.
Fire erupted instantly. A wave of heat blasted toward Isaac, the roar deafening. Reflexes kicked in — his only blessing. He dove left, rolling across the floor. His sleeve caught flame, searing his skin. He hissed in pain, smothering the ember against the ground.
The crowd jeered.
"Run faster, trash!"
"This is painful to watch!"
"Someone put him out of his misery already!"
Kaelen laughed, firing another column of flame. Isaac barely dodged, his lungs burning from the heat. He had no power to fight back. Only dodge. Only survive.
But Kaelen wasn't sparring. He was performing.
Finally, a fireball slammed into Isaac's chest. He hit the ground hard, the breath torn from his lungs. His body ached, smoke curling from his uniform.
"Match over," Marrick said flatly. "Winner: Kaelen."
The class erupted in cheers. Kaelen bowed theatrically, basking in their admiration.
Isaac lay still, staring up at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell. He said nothing. He felt nothing.
Not anger. Not despair. Just… emptiness.
---
[Nighttime – The Ambush]
The city was alive with neon light. Heroes patrolled the skies, their capes glowing against the stars. Drones scanned the streets, their cameras humming. Crime never slept, and neither did the people trained to fight it.
Isaac walked alone.
His bag hung loose, his burns still stung, but worst was the silence. The silence of being unnoticed. Of being invisible.
He turned down an alley — his shortcut home.
That's when he heard them.
"Well, look at this…"
Three figures emerged from the shadows. Masks covered their faces, but their voices dripped with malice. Villains.
"Little Hero High brat, all alone?" one sneered.
"Bet his family's loaded. Easy ransom."
"Or maybe…" molten hands flared, dripping lava, "…just fun target practice."
Isaac's stomach twisted. He stepped back. His heel hit the wall.
They spread out, circling him like wolves.
"Relax, kid. We'll make it quick."
The one with claws lunged forward. Isaac scrambled back, heart hammering. Shadows snaked from the third villain, binding his legs.
He couldn't move. He couldn't run.
The molten-handed villain raised his arm, firelight painting Isaac's pale face.
"Goodbye, brat."
Isaac's chest heaved. His thoughts blurred. His throat tore with a scream.
"I DON'T WANT TO DIE!!"
---
[The Summoning – Death]
The world froze.
Not just the villains. Not just the air. Everything.
The dripping lava hung motionless in midair. The shadows paused like painted ink. The sound of the city vanished.
And then…
Footsteps.
Slow. Heavy. Echoing far too loud for an alley. Each step shook Isaac's chest, like his heartbeat was syncing with them against his will.
Mist bled from the corners of the alley, thick, black, alive. The air grew cold. Not winter-cold. Not frostbite-cold. Grave-cold.
The villains looked around, fear cutting into their bravado.
"Wh-what the hell is this?!"
"Some kind of power—?"
"N-no… this isn't normal…"
Then he appeared.
From the mist, a tall figure emerged.
His cloak flowed unnaturally, swallowing light. His boots clicked softly against the frozen ground. His hair fell long and black, blending into the shadows.
And his eyes—
The villains gasped. His sclera were black voids, his irises burning crimson, his pupils glowing yellow like the last flicker of a dying candle.
The air suffocated around him. His presence screamed inevitability.
The molten-handed villain trembled. "Wh… what are you…?"
The figure tilted his head, the faintest smirk tugging his lips. His voice was calm, cold, merciless.
"I am not hero. I am not villain. I am not life. I am not mercy."
His hand extended. Darkness coalesced, crawling from his palm, hardening into a blade as black as a starless night. The Mortis Blade. It pulsed faintly — not metal, but flesh and shadow, alive.
"I," he whispered, his words a tolling bell in the void, "am Death."
---
[The Price]
Isaac's breath caught. His knees shook.
"D…Death…?!"
The figure's gaze shifted to him. It was like staring into his own grave.
"You called me. State your offering."
"O-offering…?"
"Nothing comes free. To end mortal life, you will pay with your own lifespan. One day for one life. Do you accept?"
Isaac's lips trembled. His brain screamed to refuse. But the claws were still at his throat. The shadows still bound his legs. The lava still hung, waiting to fall.
"I-I'll pay! One day—one day of my life!"
Death smirked. A cruel, amused expression.
"Acceptable."
He raised the Mortis Blade.
The villains screamed, scrambling to run.
They didn't make it two steps.
There was no swing. No visible strike. Only silence.
And then… three bodies collapsed. Eyes wide, mouths open, no wounds, no blood. Only terror frozen on their faces.
Dead. Instantly.
Death flicked the blade once. It dissolved into shadow, reabsorbed into his body.
He turned to Isaac. His eyes burned brighter.
"Remember this, boy. No one kills. Not villains. Not heroes. Not gods. Only me. Always me."
His cloak swirled as he began to fade.
Isaac reached out desperately.
"W-wait! Why me?! Why can I summon you?!"
Death paused. For the first time, silence stretched. His expression unreadable.
"...That is for you to discover. Pray you survive long enough to regret it."
And then he was gone.
The mist lifted. Time resumed. The lava splashed harmlessly to the ground.
Isaac collapsed, gasping. The corpses of the villains lay around him. His body shook. His mind screamed.
He had done the impossible.
The weakest student in Nova Hero High had summoned the inevitable.
Death himself.