The sky over the DEPA campus shimmered like polished glass, an endless stretch of pale blue held in place by invisible barriers. A sprawling courtyard stretched beneath it, lined with towering buildings of steel and glass. Every wall gleamed as though freshly polished, every edge perfectly symmetrical. Even the trees, tall and lush, seemed deliberately placed to look natural without ever truly being wild. It was a place designed to impress, to remind its students they were being watched from every angle.
June walked with her head down, the morning breeze teasing strands of her black hair as she clutched her notebook to her chest. Her boots clicked softly against the white stone path, blending with the hum of students talking all around her. Most of them radiated confidence—some wore their abilities on their sleeves, sparks dancing across their fingers or their footsteps blurring from sheer speed. DEPA was home to the strongest of their generation, after all.
She was not one of them. Or at least, that's what she told herself.
Her power wasn't flashy or loud. Not like Ruth's, who could break the sound barrier with a casual jog, or Mercy's, who could summon thunderclouds with a single gesture. June's gift was quiet, delicate, like glasswork. It had taken her months just to create a single floating petal. And then there was the other side of it—the one she tried not to think about. The part that erased. The part that whispered.
The Black Matter.
She shivered at the thought, shaking her head as if she could knock it loose. Not now. She had a class to get to.
"June!"
She froze as a voice called her name. Her heart sank as Ruth came jogging up, silver hair glinting in the sunlight like threads of steel. Ruth's long legs carried her effortlessly, even at a leisurely pace. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Hey, newbie," Ruth said with a smirk, leaning casually against a lamppost as if she hadn't just crossed half the courtyard in seconds. "You're late."
June glanced at her watch. She wasn't late. Not yet.
"I—no, I'm not," June muttered.
Ruth grinned wider. "Not yet. But you will be if you don't hurry up. Come on, I'll race you."
June blinked. "I—I can't race you."
"Yeah, that's kind of the point." Ruth shrugged, then stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You know, I saw what you were doing yesterday in class. With the little… flower thing? It was cute."
June's cheeks burned. She turned away, clutching her notebook tighter. "It's nothing."
"It's not nothing. You've got something cool in there, June." Ruth tilted her head, a teasing smile still on her lips. "Maybe one day you'll show me what else you can do."
June opened her mouth to respond, but Ruth was already gone, a streak of silver zipping past her toward the main building. The breeze she left behind tugged at June's clothes, carrying the faint scent of ozone.
With a sigh, June continued toward the massive structure ahead: the central academy building of DEPA. Its sleek glass panels reflected the sunlight in blinding flashes. She stepped inside and was greeted by the familiar hum of the building's security systems. Floating drones zipped past her head, scanning every student as they passed. She tried to ignore the way their sensors lingered on her a moment too long.
Inside, the academy was a labyrinth of polished white halls, each lined with posters depicting heroes—smiling, confident, pristine in their uniforms. Beneath each portrait was a quote about hope, justice, and duty. The government's message was clear: powers were not gifts; they were responsibilities. And if you didn't meet expectations… you were a threat.
She found her classroom on the third floor, tucked into a quiet corner of the east wing. The room was spacious, with rows of sleek black desks and a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city. A group of students clustered near the front, chatting animatedly.
April was there, her soft blue hair pulled back into a neat braid. She sat perched on the edge of a desk, absentmindedly spinning a ball of water between her hands. Next to her stood Ruby, her curly red hair catching the sunlight as she summoned tiny shards of glittering crystal to orbit around her. The two of them were laughing at something Vince said, his shadowy form leaning against the window with an easy grin. His powers always made him look like he belonged in the dark, yet he was strangely approachable.
June slipped into the back row, setting her notebook on her desk and lowering her head, hoping no one noticed her.
"Cute trick."
She jumped at the voice. The faint glow of White Matter was already curling from her fingers, shaping the flower she'd been sketching without realizing it. The delicate petals shimmered in the air above her notebook, and then—pop—it vanished.
Ruth was leaning against her desk, arms crossed, wearing that same smirk. "You're getting better. Gonna make me a sword next time?"
June swallowed. "I… I don't know if I can."
"Sure you can." Ruth tapped her nose, winking. "I believe in you."
June blinked at her, unsure whether she was being sincere or just teasing.
Before she could respond, the door slid open with a soft hiss, and the entire room fell silent.
Ms. Nika entered in a burst of soft golden light, her white wings folding gracefully behind her. Her halo glimmered faintly as she moved, her expression calm yet commanding. She didn't walk so much as glide, her presence filling the room with an overwhelming sense of serenity.
"Good morning, students," Ms. Nika said, her voice melodic yet firm. "I trust you're all well-rested. Today, we will begin combat simulations. Please prepare yourselves."
A ripple of excitement passed through the class. Combat days were rare but highly anticipated. Students immediately began buzzing with chatter, some cracking their knuckles, others summoning flickers of their abilities to show off.
June's stomach knotted. Combat simulations. She wasn't ready for this. Not today. Not ever.
"Hey, art girl."
Her heart sank at the voice. Tyler.
He sat in the front row, his sharp eyes fixed on her even though his head was turned toward the front. He didn't smirk or grin; his face was calm, cold. But there was an edge to his voice that made June's skin crawl.
"Don't let me down today," he said, his tone low and measured. "I want to see what you're hiding."
June looked down at her notebook, clutching her pen so tightly it almost snapped.
Tyler could copy anyone's ability just by studying them closely. He could even take multiple abilities at once, though they'd only last a few hours. That made him dangerous. Not because of what he could do, but because of what he could become. He was obsessed with power, and he'd already made it clear he thought June was hiding something worth stealing.
The door slid open again.
Alarms blared overhead, loud and piercing. Red warning lights filled the classroom as a holographic banner appeared above the door:
"Absolute Detected: Unauthorized Entry."
The room erupted into chaos.
Ms. Nika's expression hardened, her wings spreading wide as divine light flared around her. "Stay seated," she ordered, her melodic voice ringing with authority. "We have company."
June's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the flashing red lights. The flower she'd been sketching a moment ago lay unfinished, a single petal dangling from the corner of her page.
She felt it then—a pulse of cold energy deep in her chest. The Black Matter stirred, like ink rippling through her veins, whispering softly.
June clenched her fists, forcing herself to breathe. Not now. Not yet.
She wouldn't let it out.
Not today.