Raze Arcwell carried many things.
Confidence.
Cheerfulness.
A quiet pride.
And when someone pushed him too far…
a hint of something sharper, colder—
a ruthlessness forged from years of being the Nexasless one in a world built for the gifted.
He never asked to be born without a Nexas.
But he refused to let the world decide his limits.
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Lionel Academy — Where Futures Are Forged
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In Lionel Academy, the first semester gathered every student—prodigy, noble, ordinary, elite—into the same classes.
Only after the basics were completed would they be sorted into departments that defined their futures:
• Hero Department — frontline combatants and crisis responders
• Support Department — healers, analysts, strategists, medics
• Auxiliary Department — Supprting heroes as their sidekicks, scouts, engineers, mobility-type abilities
• Non-Combat Departments — R&D, Combat Tech Engineering, Medical Science, Infrastructure Nexas, Hero Logistics
Some students dreamed of charging into blazing battles.
Some wished to defend cities from catastrophic threats.
Others preferred to build, heal, analyze, or support from behind the scenes.
But all paths began here—in the same classrooms, taking the same exams.
And for three weeks straight, one name had hovered at the top of every written test.
"Raze Arcwell — Rank 1"
People talked.
People whispered.
People doubted.
A Nexasless boy shouldn't dominate the intellectual portion of the continent's strongest academy.
A powerless kid wasn't supposed to outperform heirs of hero families.
But the scoreboard didn't lie.
Every week, when Raze's name appeared at the top, he heard the murmurs behind him:
"Is he cheating?"
"How can someone with no Nexas score that high?"
"Arcwells must be pulling strings."
"He's just lucky it's written tests. Once ability trials begin, he's finished."
But one voice always cut through all the noise—bright, loud, annoyingly supportive.
Roger Castellan.
He nudged Raze's shoulder as they walked toward the testing field.
"Bro, you do realize the entire academy now officially hates you, right?"
Roger whispered loudly—loud enough for ten people to hear.
Raze smirked.
"Let them hate me for something I actually control."
Roger snorted.
"Man's dropping wisdom while I'm struggling to pass basic math."
It was stupid banter.
Ridiculous even.
But Raze appreciated it far more than he'd ever admit.
Because for once…
He wasn't alone.
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The Day Everyone Waited For
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Today wasn't about books or theory.
Today was the **Ability Assessment**—the most anticipated exam of the first semester.
Hundreds of students gathered in the massive outdoor arena, their Nexas blazing like fireworks.
The sky shimmered under bursts of lightning, flames, mist, metal manipulation, gravity distortions, and elemental storms.
Students showed off their abilities to friends, rivals, anyone watching.
It was chaos.
Beautiful chaos.
A living storm of raw power.
And at the center of the field—
stood a boy with no glow.
No aura.
No Nexas.
**Raze Arcwell.**
He did not command fire.
He did not reshape metal.
He did not twist space.
He simply breathed in… then out.
Standing firm.
Unshaken.
Refusing to fade into the background.
Others had gifts.
Raze had discipline.
At age six, he studied anatomy and pressure points while other kids played.
At eight, he ran uphill with weighted bands until his legs failed.
At ten, he sparred with trained bodyguards—who underestimated him exactly once.
By sixteen, his body carried scars, hardened muscle, and lessons carved into him through relentless effort.
If Nexas users were forged by talent—
Raze Arcwell was forged by will.
Roger leaned closer.
"Alright. Be honest. How much are your hands sweating right now?"
Raze stayed silent for three seconds.
"…A little."
Roger laughed so loud four students turned around.
"At least you admit it! Bro, I knew you weren't secretly a robot."
Raze shot him a narrow glare.
"You're making it worse."
"I'm here for emotional support," Roger declared proudly, giving two thumbs up.
Raze wanted to punch him and thank him at the same time.
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The Instructors Arrive
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A long horn echoed across the arena—deep and resonant.
Students snapped to attention.
Five instructors stepped forward, capes fluttering under ability pressure.
One of them, a tall man with glowing amber eyes and a voice like thunder, raised a hand.
"FIRST-YEAR STUDENTS—!"
The arena trembled as ability energy flared around them.
"STEP FORWARD FOR THE ABILITY TEST!"
Cheers erupted.
Some students sharpened their stance.
Others cracked their knuckles, sparks or flames rippling at their fingertips.
The air buzzed with anticipation.
Raze stepped forward too.
No glow.
No special effect.
Just footsteps.
But he felt something else—
A heat rising in his chest.
A fire that had burned since the day he first understood what he lacked.
Roger nudged him.
"You ready?"
Raze let out a slow, steady breath.
"Nervous? No."
His expression sharpened.
"But I'm done being the Nexasless kid people whisper about."
He clenched his fists.
"Today… they learn why I'm here."
Roger grinned like a man about to watch the world shake.
"Then let's give them a show, partner."
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The Storm of Power
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The instructors fired a column of Nexas energy into the sky, signaling the official start.
The heavens erupted in light.
Around him, students unleashed their abilities with pride and force.
And showed them off to their friends.
And yet—
In the middle of that overwhelming spectacle—
Raze stepped forward calmly.
No Nexas.
No glow.
Just a boy with iron will walking into a hurricane of gifted monsters.
A Nexasless challenger.
A boy who refused to kneel.
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The Beginning of the Test
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As the first group prepared their demonstrations, Raze tightened the straps on his gloves.
His heartbeat steadied.
His turn would come.
And when it did—
He would show them all that even without a Nexas…
he was not someone who could be ignored.
"The Nexasless Arcwell was ready."
The test was about to begin.
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The first phase of Lionel Academy's examination was simple in theory—but brutal in execution.
Raw physical strength.
Hundreds of first-year students stood before towering digital weight stations, each machine forged to withstand several tons of force. They weren't ordinary gym equipment; they were military-grade analyzers built to measure lifting power down to the decimal.
For students blessed with strength-based Nexas, this exam was practically a stage designed for them.
And amidst the sea of nervous faces and trembling fists, two names dominated every whisper:
Bam Relic.Astra Noire.
One a brute.One a prodigy.One born powerful.One born transcendent.
And in between them stood a boy born with nothing.
But that part comes later.
Bam Relic — The Natural Titan
"Relic! Relic! RELIC!!"
Chants broke out the moment Bam stepped forward.
Bam Relic was already a legend among first-years. Broad shoulders, thick arms, a fearless grin—he looked like someone carved out of reinforced stone. Rumor said he once crushed an iron training dummy with a single palm strike.
Crack. Crack.He loosened his neck.
"Alright," he muttered, gripping the bar.
The digital weight rose…500 kg… 900… 1200… 1600… 2000 kg.
He tightened his stance.
GRRNNKK—!!
The metal bar bent.The floor shook.The machine let out a warning beep as if begging for mercy.
And then—
SLAM!!
Bam dropped it with a thunderous impact that echoed like a cannon firing indoors.
He exhaled once.
"That's my limit today," he said casually, as if talking about homework.
The crowd exploded.
"Two thousand…?!""He made it look EASY!""He's a monster—no wonder he's top-ranked!"
Bam grinned and flexed once for his cheering fans.
It was a performance worthy of awe.
But not fear.
Fear came from the person who stepped forward next.
Astra Noire — The Girl Who Shouldn't Exist
Silence swept the room.
Every whisper faded.
Every breath halted.
Because Astra Noire walked forward—calm, soft steps, no emotion, no showmanship—but carrying an aura that crushed the air around her.
The Child Blessed by the Gods.A triple-ability user.A phenomenon.
She didn't warm up.She didn't prepare.She simply placed her hands on the same bar Bam struggled with.
She lifted.
1600 kg.1800 kg.2000 kg.
Perfect posture.Perfect control.Her expression didn't change—not even slightly.
It didn't look like she was lifting a mountain.
It looked like she was lifting a bag of feathers.
A murmur, trembling, broke out behind her.
"She's… terrifying.""She isn't even straining.""Forget Bam—SHE'S the real monster."
Astra gently lowered the bar, bowed politely to the instructors, and stepped aside.
No pride.No arrogance.
Only quiet, effortless power.
And because of that—she scared them more.
The Nexasless Boy Steps Forward
Then…
It was Raze Arcwell's turn.
The moment he stepped out, the air shifted again—but not the way it did with Astra. This time, the shift came from confusion. Curiosity. Disbelief.
No glow of energy.No enhanced muscles.No supernatural hum.
Just a boy with a lean frame and a steady heartbeat.
Whispers rose instantly:
"He doesn't have Nexas, right?""Is he really doing this exam?""What's he going to lift? 50 kg?"
Roger cupped his hands and yelled from the back:
"Oi! Raze! Don't break your spine!"
Raze rolled his eyes.
Then placed his hands on the bar.
Deep breath in.Deep breath out.
His form tightened—not with Nexas—but with years of disciplined training.
He pulled.
100 kg.Lift.
120 kg.Steady.
150 kg.No shaking. No struggling.
Just perfect technique and raw will.
He locked the bar overhead and lowered it with control.
Nothing dramatic.Nothing flashy.
But the room murmured in growing surprise.
"He did that without Nexas…""That's insane. That's pure muscle strength.""He beat half the class with no ability?!"
Even Bam blinked in shock.Astra, watching from the side, lifted her eyes for the first time with faint interest.
Raze didn't flex.He didn't grin.He didn't celebrate.
He simply nodded at the instructor and stepped back.
Not victory.
Just progress.
And that made his presence more impactful than any dramatic display.
Instructor's Verdict
The examiner tapped his tablet.
"Strength assessment complete."
A wave of relief washed through the crowd.
He added:
"Tomorrow at 8 AM sharp—Agility test.Prepare accordingly."
Students erupted in chatter.
Agility.Movement.Reaction.
Tomorrow was where true Nexas abilities would shine—where speed-users, flight-users, and element manipulators would dominate.
But one boy wasn't intimidated.
Raze was already stretching, already thinking, already planning.
Roger slapped his back so hard Raze stumbled.
"DUDE! You lifted more than people with ACTUAL Nexas! You're crazy!"
Raze shrugged."I trained for this."
Roger grinned."Yeah, but they don't know that. They're panicking right now."
Raze noticed it too—sideways glances, hesitant glares, the beginnings of respect.
"Good," he said softly.
He looked toward Astra and Bam, the two peaks of this year's batch.
"Tomorrow… I'll make them even more nervous."
And he meant it.
A New Rivalry Takes Shape
As the students left the hall:
—some whispered—some doubted—some admired
But one thing was certain:
No one ignored Raze Arcwell anymore.
He had stepped into their world—not as a victim,not as a joke,but as a challenger.
And tomorrow…the battlefield widened.
The Agility Test awaited.
A storm of speed and power.
And in the middle of it—
A boy born with nothing would carve his first scar into the academy's history.