Location: ???
Date: XX/XX/2068
”So this was the resolution everybody had fought for? This was it?” The snow-white haired girl thought to herself as she hunched over a corpse. Knee deep in a landscape void of life, all that surrounded her was the decrepit remains of what used to be reality. The sky itself, once cyanic, was dyed a dark hue of red, perforated by two suns brilliantly burning away. Sure, the second war had ended. But rather than celebrations and exchanging of gifts, instead only lied nothingness. Both sides had reaped what they intentionally sewed into the heart of both of their worlds. The seeds of destruction which they had so eagerly planted now branched out and bridged the gap between the avant-garde and archaic realities, though not in the calm demeanor most had hoped for. The two ends brought about their own demise without even realizing it. And at the center of it was her. This lone, shattered soul of a girl, leaning over the corpses of those which she used to call brothers and sisters, yet they had passed on whilst she survived. She was granted control of the tide of events, but had no idea how to wield such power and brought about armageddon. This was not the requiem she had planned for, nor one she had wanted. She truly wished for a happy ending, with smiles on everyones faces and a cease fire written in fine print. Maybe they could have rebuilt the academy? How long ago was she a student there? A year? The war had distorted her concept of time and had dulled its blade. Regardless, hours, minutes, and seconds no longer bore meaning without anybody to abide by such increments.
And then it hit her. She was the deity which controlled this world, she had her fingertips right on the control panel of reality. The girl refused to be the keystone piece in this contorted manifestation. She had the power to revert everything back to square one, to reset the actors on stage. But some would have to be removed, as they played major parts in the series of unfortunate events. Others would find themselves reliving the same days without any recollection of the first iteration. And where would she be? The girl honestly believed that she herself should be cut out of the future equation. It was the only viable option. Before she knew it, the world began to fade away, and with it she took one last glance at her comrades. Their eyes remained shut, as if they were lost in a peaceful sleep, soon to awaken. Well, soon they would stir again. The fate of the second chance lied in their hands alone.
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A rift in space-time known as the Black Gale opened up, connecting the worlds of Earth and Lucis with an undisclosed (but absurdly large) amount of unexplored, monster-filled wilderness. That was twenty years ago, and while the situation in the Black Gale hasn't changed much, peace has been fostered between the two worlds. Today is January 8th. Three days ago a raven bearing a letter arrived, declaring that you had been selected to enroll one of many institutions dedicated to combat the threats posed by the labyrinths and wildlife in the Black Gale, as well as those posed by the two worlds themselves - an academy. And not just any academy, but the Academy of the Arcane Artes, one of the greatest and most renowned academies in both worlds. And you were one of the lucky elite chosen to attend this prestigious academy.
Did you accept the offer? Hell yeah you did!
And that was how you found yourself waking up bright and early (or perhaps staying up mind-bogglingly late), packing your bags, saying your good-byes to whatever friends or family you may have (or not!), and waiting outside your dark cave/quaint countryside hamlet/massive estate/cheap apartment/ludicrously expensive condo/etc for the arrival of a magical lion-eagle.
Lo and behold, there they arrived, descending from the heavens like angels from on high. Fur and feather gleamed in the light of the relevant celestial body as the majestic creature settled upon the ground. It was alone, saddle empty, waiting for its designated rider. You mount the beast, tentatively, aggressively, or otherwise - it does not matter. From there you take to the sky, heading towards the Black Gale, that giant tear in space over there, at speeds that violated every traffic law on Earth and then some.
But soon after you see it on the distant horizon: the Academy of the Arcane Artes. Or perhaps you don't, since you're clinging so damn hard to your griffin. Eventually you land, the sound of griffin's talons upon pavement. It was a miracle you didn't die or anything. That sure would've been inconvenient, huh? But that doesn't matter! You made it!
Now welcome to the Academy of the Arcane Artes, bitches students. Enjoy your stay.
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8th of February/2066
Varren’s eyes shot open as he gasped for air. In a hurried fashion, the boy flung himself forward out of surprise and fear of what he had experienced during his slumber. Only if he had realized a few moments earlier the point where bed ran out in stock, and all that could be sold was the cold hard floor. Yes, the boy truly paid the price of haphazardness, landing face first into the wooden surface while armed with only a pair of boxers to shield his shattered pride. The boy was left to pout in shambles until the sun had slithered its way through his windows, on a one-way course into his eyes. This was usually how Varren’s mornings started. An ebullient boy repetitively rolling on the floor, ensuing phrases which a nine year old would rate as
’potty mouth’. Sure, the guy definitely had the pitch down pat. Most of these perilous mornings were spurred by nightmares, such as flashing images of coffee cups being smashes or the internet being shut down worldwide. But this particular dream which had rudely stirred him from his sleep was more unique than the rest. Varren himself was in it, yet his hair was an entirely different shade. It mostly consisted of hazy scenes, unclear and undeveloped, kind of like his brother’s tastes in fine weaponry.
Anyways, Varren decided he was done squandering precious time and quickly dressed himself. The cyanic tie contrasted nicely with the shades of his cerulean hair.
”Wait a moment. Uniform? Who placed this here? Did one of the maids want me to cosplay this badly?” The boy’s eyes darted between the vacant clothes hanger and the pristine uniform he was now draped in. It took a few moments for a connection to surge in that whimsical brain of his. He snapped his fingers out of realization,
”Yes! First day of school! Wonder if Nii-chan is awake yet?” Varren was half tempted to burst in his brother’s room and pounce on the guy’s bed until he awakened, yet the boy wasn’t deadset on receiving a wallop to the face on day one. Regardless, that room hadn’t been occupied for a few years. He proceeded with morning stretches before eyeing the two travel cases lying near his door. Surely one of the butlers had snuck in during his sleep and packed away his belongings.
”I swear, if they misplaced one bullet, I’ll…!” Yet Varren couldn’t think of a threat to cast upon the random employee, yet a punishment of sorts was surely in order. He made his way over to his night table and swiftly swiped at a device which firmly fit around his wrist. With a few pecks at its LED screen, a small hologram was produced before him. The boy skimmed through contacts blindly. Literally; he had his eyes glued shut as he scrolled through the list,
“Eeny, meeny, miney, moe heroine!” The boy plunged his jutted finger against a random name, and requested that his cases were to be brought to the front gate. He would have gladly lugged his belongings down the steps, yet given his frail figure, such a journey would only end in disaster.
After pouring himself the last cup of coffee he would enjoy in the Yinyues household for a while, he proceeded to the front door where he was met by a woman. Unlike her son’s more colorful hair, her’s was a monotonous raven black. The woman looked like an iconic business official, dressed in finely spun clothing, as well as appearing half her actual age. His mother was twirling something around her finger when she laid her eyes upon the boy. Her expression lit up with a mixture of approval yet remorse. She let out a sigh and caught the gun my the grip, took a few paces towards Varren, then held the magazine port towards him. The boy cautiously and slowly attempted to grab the pistol, but the woman moved her hand back with every advance he made.
After a few tries at seizing the sidearm, Varren began to frantically reach for the gun with flailing arms, yet it was only in vain. His mother was able to hold the boy back by his face, her hand gripping around the rim of his head as he continued his futile quest. She shook her head and released the boy from her bear grip, then quickly wrapped her arms around his timid figure,
”Dear god, boy. You weren’t even able to grab a handgun from your aging mother. How do you expect to fight monsters with that kind of strength.” She chuckled as she wrapped her son’s fingers around the pistol,
”It’s a White Wolf machine pistol. Fires an AP 5.8x30mm round. Look, even the ejection plate has grooves in it~! You can use it to beat a foe to a pulp if you run out of bullets. Although…” Her voice drifted off as she squeezed Varren’s biceps, instantaneously losing all hope in the continuation of her sentence.
”Anyways, I wish you luck, my boy. Make the Yinyues house proud, and forge another title for Magpul. Also, tell your brother I said hello, remind him that he has to turn in this month’s rent before he leaves.”
With that, she patted the boy on the back and sent him flying through the doorstep. If Varren hadn’t mastered the otherworldly physics of coffee, he may have had been in a mess of third degree burns. The snow wouldn’t have helped much, either. The boy shivered when he was suddenly exposed to the ruthless climate change. It seemed odd, starting the school year in the midst of winter. What was even more disconcerting was the griffin waiting at the front of his ga-
”Wait a second. Something isn’t right here… Let’s see… Snow isn’t yellow… My scarf is on firmly… Coffee isn’t spi- by the caffeinated deities there’s a griffin right in front of me.” The boy felt sufficed with listing the creature as a figment of his imagination. To test his hypothesis, he reached an outstretched arm towards the beast’s hide and poked it. Instantly the collage of animals sprung into action, swiping at the ground under Varren, then propelling him into the air. All the boy could sneak out was a befuddled,
”What…?’, before he landed on the creature’s back. The griffin stuck its talons, with awe-inducing finesse mind you, around the handles of his travel cases. It then rose onto its hind legs and propelled itself off the ground, beads of water flew out of Varren’s sockets as they soared through the frigid air. Usually these things were outfitted with riding harnesses, yet the academy must have forgotten to dispatch this individual with one. All he could do was hold onto dear life, and prayed that his heart didn’t shrink as fast as his manh- Gracefully soaring through the air, Yinyues couldn’t help but to shiver as he felt the cold air brush against his uniform. ”It is winter after all… I should have worn a sweater or something.” He mumbled as he clung closer to the griffin, hoping to grasp onto a portion of its warmth. The warm-blooded beast was bred to endure such conditions with flying colors, covered in a coat of feathers which held in every bit of heat. He lowered his forehead in between its scapula, resting his tired mind as they advanced to their destination. The boy closed his eyes and attempted to find respite in the hectic turn of events. He listened to the rhythmic flapping of the griffin's wings as he mentally composed his will.
Yet all of a sudden, his ears picked up more sets flying creatures. He glanced to his side, it took a few moments before a belated startled reaction came into fruition. Other beasts of the sky were beginning to fall into formation, each bearing their own student expressing varying complexions. Hell, one blonde was even riding the griffin as if she was the pilot. This was definitely more exhilarating than the uneventful school bus rides he committed to in the past. The boy’s eyes darted to the humongous portal before them. The break in the sky was consuming griffins like they were snacks, inhaling them en mass. It was at this point that Varren realized that he was face to face with the Black Gale. The very cause of the great reformations the whole entire world had to undergo decades ago. The grip on the griffin’s feathers tightened as he was suddenly consumed by a blinding light, unsure of what lied on the other side.