The sun set blood-orange over Eryndra Prime, its light cutting through the academy's glass corridors like a blade.
Students poured into the Central Atrium, a colossal dome of steel and light where the Hero Council rarely appeared in person.
But tonight was an exception.
Rumor spread fast: The Council's coming to announce a new Hero Regulation Act.
Some whispered it was about security. Others, that it was about control.
Xander walked at the edge of the crowd, his wrist still marked with faint burn lines from the Protocol test.
Mira and Renn flanked him, their faces tight with worry.
"They're setting you up," Mira muttered. "You shouldn't even be here."
"If I don't show," Xander replied quietly, "they win by silence."
The Announcement
The holographic podium rose from the center stage, projecting the Council's crest above it.
Director Varrin Sol stepped forward, his silver hair gleaming under the dome lights.
"Cadets of Eryndra Academy," his voice echoed, calm and commanding.
"In recent weeks, instability within our ranks has shown the need for stronger leadership.
The Council has approved a new policy — the Resonance Alignment Directive.
From this day forward, all elemental cadets will undergo synchronization monitoring.
Those displaying mutation risk will be reassigned to Division control."
The words hit like thunder.
Silence spread through the crowd — then murmurs.
"Division control?"
"That's military conscription…"
"They're turning us into weapons."
Varrin continued, unbothered.
"Only through structure can we maintain peace. Heroes are not born to question — they are born to serve."
Something in Xander snapped.
He stepped forward, voice steady but sharp enough to cut through the murmurs.
"Is that what heroes are to you?"
The dome quieted instantly.
Every camera shifted toward him.
"We train, we bleed, we nearly die just to be seen — and you call it peace?"
"You talk about control like it's safety, but you're afraid of anyone who doesn't fit your pattern."
Varrin's expression hardened.
"Cadet Valois. You will return to your station."
"No," Xander said. "Not until you admit the truth."
"You're not building heroes anymore. You're building obedience."
The murmurs turned into shouts — some for him, some against.
Mira's hands trembled. Renn whispered, "He's really doing it…"
Varrin gestured subtly. Security units moved in — faceless enforcers armed with stun batons.
"Cadet Valois," Varrin said coldly, "your recklessness endangers order. You are hereby—"
A sudden pulse cut him off.
Every screen in the atrium glitched, showing static — then a phrase flickered across them all:
PROJECT ASCENDANT — SYSTEM COMPROMISED.
RELEASE PROTOCOL ACTIVE.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The lights flickered again — blue and gold arcs racing across the ceiling.
Xander looked up, stunned. "That's—"
Mira whispered, "That's your resonance signal."
The ground trembled. For a moment, it felt like the entire building was breathing.
Then the screens flashed again, showing old files, experiments, and data feeds — every secret the Council had buried.
Names. Numbers. Children. Failures.
The crowd erupted.
"They experimented on kids!"
"They lied to us!"
Security tried to shut the feeds down, but the network itself resisted — pulsing in rhythm with Xander's heartbeat.
The Spark
Varrin's voice boomed through the speakers.
"Cut the connection! Now!"
Enforcers advanced, surrounding Xander.
Mira moved between them, sword half-drawn. "You'll have to go through us."
Renn followed, stone armor forming around his arms. "Funny thing about obedience, Director—it crumbles under pressure."
Varrin's calm broke for the first time. "Stand down, all of you!"
But the students weren't listening anymore.
Something had shifted — fear replaced by fury, silence by defiance.
The crowd began chanting, low and raw:
"We are not your weapons."
"We are not your weapons."
Xander stood at the center of it, lightning flickering faintly around him.
He raised his voice once more.
"You call us heroes, but heroes protect the people — not the system that chains them."
"If that makes me a villain… then maybe this world needs a few."
The cameras caught everything.
The moment that would ripple through Eryndra for decades.
The assembly dissolved into chaos. Enforcers retreated. Students fled or rallied in secret halls.
By nightfall, the academy was under lockdown.
Xander, Mira, and Renn hid in an abandoned training dome.
Mira's eyes reflected the flicker of broken neon lights. "You just declared war on the Council."
Renn chuckled dryly. "Yeah. And you sounded damn good doing it."
Xander looked toward the city skyline — the lightning towers flashing in the distance.
"Then we'll change it," he said quietly.
"Not by burning it down. By rebuilding it right."
The hum of the network answered softly — almost like approval.