"Error… Error… Error—score invalid."
The robotic assistant spasmed, its optics flickering wildly as smoke curled from its joints. Whatever Shion's punch had done, it hadn't just broken walls—it had overwhelmed the system itself.
A stunned hush fell over the training ground.
"…W-What the hell was that guy?"
"He's scary."
"What kind of academy lets that in?"
"…He's kinda hot," someone muttered, earning a few sharp looks.
Shock rippled through the crowd like aftershocks from an earthquake. The test was immediately halted, technicians rushing in as alarms briefly sounded. The damage would take time to repair—three minutes at minimum, they announced.
Shion exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Just as I thought… I went too far.
"I really shouldn't be reckless," he murmured to himself. "That's why I mostly rely on my first Glitch—Vigor." His gaze drifted toward the shattered wall. "If I draw too much from the core… everything breaks."
He rarely unleashed his full power. Not because he couldn't—but because once he did, controlling how much energy flowed from his core became nearly impossible. The result was always excessive destruction.
Shion Sorahiko was an unstable Grade-C anomaly.
In this world, anomaly grades defined not only strength—but danger.
Anomaly Grades:
• Grade-A: Fully mastered Glitch. Exceptionally talented.
• Grade-B: Stable Glitch control.
• Grade-C: Unstable Glitch control.
• Grade-D: Deformed anomalies—functionally impaired.
• Grade-E: Corrupted Glitches. Mindless, destructive entities. Rare among humans.
• Grade-S: Objects altered by the Glitch.
• Grade-X: Remnants of people from the past—existences displaced by time distortion.
Beyond grades were Glitch Levels, measured through the vibration output of a second Glitch:
Chaotic: Excessive power. Severe self-harm risk.
Very Strong: High combat potential.
Mild: Balanced output.
Weak: Low-risk, limited impact.
Shion sat firmly in Very Strong—with the frightening potential to spike into Chaotic territory.
A dangerous place to be.
High above, the second instructor whistled under his breath. "We're seriously expected to teach kids like that? Scary."
Thump.
Gray drove his elbow straight into the man's gut.
"Ack—!"
"Choose your words carefully," Gray growled. "That student has power, but he lacks control. Notice how his body didn't recoil even an inch after that strike?"
The man winced, straightening slowly. "Acute observation. Ow..."
Gray turned away. "I'm getting coffee."
"Oh? Not 'investigating the anomaly'?" the man—Claith—smirked. "Careful, people might think you're playing favorites."
Gray didn't respond.
"Hey—wait up!"
Shion sat quietly near the edge of the arena, trying to ignore the stares that followed him like shadows.
Then a familiar presence loomed in front of him.
Gray.
Shion immediately stood straight. "S–Sir!"
Gray studied him with sharp eyes before sighing. "Relax. I'm not here to punish you."
Shion blinked.
"You pushed beyond your limit," Gray continued calmly. "But that wasn't the first time, was it?"
Shion hesitated.
"This makes the third incident," Gray said. "Once years ago. Once months ago. And now."
Shion swallowed. "…Yes, sir."
Gray nodded once. "Flawed strength. But potential nonetheless." Then he turned and walked away.
Claith leaned in immediately, patting Gray's shoulder. "See? Told you. Favorites."
Gray's eye twitched. "Shut up before I kill you."
Shion watched them leave, fingers clenching slightly.
He knew the truth better than anyone.
His power wasn't just strong—it was dangerous. And until he learned to control it, it would always be feared.
Most students kept their distance after that.
Most.
"Hey! You there—with the purple hair!"
Shion flinched, turning toward the voice.
A blond-haired boy with warm brown eyes jogged up to him, beaming with unrestrained enthusiasm.
A blond-haired boy with warm brown eyes jogged up to him, beaming with unrestrained enthusiasm.
"That was awesome!" the boy said. "Wanna be friends?"
"…Huh?"
The sudden approach caught Shion completely off guard. There was no fear in the boy's expression—no hesitation, no malice.
"Oh! Forgot introductions," the boy said, pointing to himself proudly. "Name's Blaze Hemmick. But you can call me by my future nickname—Fireblazer. Sounds cool, right?"
Shion blinked. "…You're the one who scored five hundred thousand earlier."
Blaze laughed. "That? Nah. That's nothing compared to you." He clasped his hands together suddenly, eyes shining. "I like strong people. A lot. So please—be my friend!"
Shion stared at him, stunned.
For the first time that day…
someone looked at him without fear.
And somehow, that scared him more than anything else.
"...Sure," Shion said after a brief pause. "That'd be great."
Blaze's face lit up instantly. "Yippe! New friend acquired!" He pumped a fist in victory, then tilted his head, studying Shion thoughtfully. "That power earlier was insane. You've gotta be a Vigor-type, right?"
"You're not wrong," Shion replied. "Both my first and second Glitches are Vigor."
Blaze snapped his fingers. "That explains."
Shion hesitated, then asked, "By the way, do you know how the rest of the test is going to go?"
Blaze leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing classified intel. "From what I heard from that guy with glasses? Mobility test next. Then a range test—with guns, of course. After that, a written exam."
Shion blinked. Twice.
"…That sounds more like a military training than a school entrance exam."
Blaze shrugged. "Well, it's not that bad."
Before Shion could respond, Blaze clapped his hands together. "C'mon! Strength test's over—let's head to the waiting room before the next round."
Time slipped by faster than Shion expected.
The mobility test sprawled across a massive outdoor course—steel platforms suspended over water, sheer climbing walls, narrow beams stretching high above the ground. The rules allowed full use of second Glitches.
Shion chose restraint.
He moved carefully, muscles coiling and releasing with practiced precision, refusing to draw more power than necessary. Each jump, each climb, each sprint was calculated—controlled.
Blaze, on the other hand, was unstoppable.
Flames erupted beneath his feet as he propelled himself through the course like a living comet. He vaulted gaps in single bounds, skimmed over water without slowing, and outright flew past certain obstacles, laughing the entire time.
Shion relied purely on physical strength and precision, moving carefully but steadily.
When the results were announced, Shion placed 21st out of 100.
Blaze landed third.
As they regrouped, Blaze tilted his head, concern creasing his brow." Hey, why didn't you use that power from earlier? Is something wrong?"
Shion shook his head. "I can't control it. My powers are out of the question in terms of crowded area..."
Blaze nodded slowly, a rare seriousness settling over him. "That's actually pretty responsible."
Shion wasn't sure how to respond to that.
The range test came next.
The moment Blaze stepped up, heat flooded the area. With a sharp breath, he released a focused blast of flame that engulfed every target in one brilliant flash. The dummies collapsed into molten wreckage before the timer even finished counting.
Four seconds. First place.
Applause broke out.
Shion followed, relying solely on his first Glitch. His vision sharpened unnaturally, the world slowing just enough for him to track every movement. Each shot was precise, controlled—but slower.
He finished in one minute and twelve seconds, ranking 24th place.
The written exam took place in a quiet hall, stark and sterile after the chaos of the field tests. The questions were straightforward—Glitch theory, anomaly ethics, basic strategy.
Shion worked through them calmly, pen gliding across the page.
Blaze stared at his paper for an uncomfortably long time.
The scoreboard told the story.
Shion: 7th place — 89 points
Blaze: 59th place — 41 points
Shion squinted at the board, then at Blaze. "…You don't really like studying, do you?"
Blaze laughed, scratching the back of his head. "Eh. I'll just punch my problems until they go away."
"That's concerning..."
"Effective though."Blaze laughed, utterly unfazed. The confidence alone left Shion slightly stunned.
By the time the tests concluded, evening had already fallen.
"Man, shame we didn't get more time to talk," Blaze said as they exited the academy. "Hey—wanna exchange contacts?"
He held out his phone.
"Sure," Shion replied, smiling as they swapped numbers.
"See you around," Blaze said. "Hopefully when we pass, we'll end up in the same class."
"I hope so too," Shion said. "See you."
They waved and went their separate ways.
Shion arrived home exhausted, both mentally and physically.
Miyato glanced up from the couch. "So? How'd it go?"
"Not bad," Shion replied, slipping off his shoes. "Though I might've… demolished the training ground."
"Yeah, I know."
Shion froze mid-step.
"…You what?"
Miyato held up his phone. "Someone recorded it. Even though filming was banned, they slipped it past security. It's all over the news."
Shion rushed over. On the screen, footage played—his punch in slow motion, the teddy bear vanishing, walls collapsing outward in a storm of debris.
A bold headline flashed beneath it:
'MONSTER OF THE ACADEMY?'
"You've got to be kidding me!" Shion groaned.
"And look," Miyato added cheerfully, "I saved it."
"Please don't."
Outside, the sun slipped beneath the horizon, painting the room in orange and gold—while Shion stood there, mortified, and Miyato laughed like he'd just witnessed the highlight of his year.