August 9, 2021
Students start to flood the school’s gates, each excited to start the new school year.
“Can you believe how cute our new uniform is? Purple is sooo my color!” says one girl to her friend.
“I know right? And the tie and flower goes so well with it. Whoever thought this up must be a genius,” her friend replies with a giggle.
The two of them chirpily walk through the school gates.
“I can’t believe we’re being made to wear these troublesome vests. It’s so bothersome,” one boy complains to his friends. He takes off the vest and slings it over his shoulder.
“I know right? And purple? So tacky,” one of the boys reply, also taking off his vest.
“Better wear those properly, the council will get you,” the third boy says jokingly.
“As if those paper puppets will get me to do anything,” the first boy replies.
The three laugh, making more jokes about the council as they pass the gates.
“Do you know the SSC this year?” a girl asks her friends.
“The SSC? Who cares about those useless people. This year will be the same, they’ll be as useless as ever,” her friend replies.
“Hmm, true, I’ve been studying here from the beginning and they’ve never been any good,” the girl replies.
“I just hope those rowdy bunches don’t get too out of hand this year,” her friend comments.
“Huh, this school is so hopeless. Did you hear that some more delinquents transferred here this year?”
“Again? As if we don’t have enough of those already. Will they be working for Rome?”
“Almost everyone of them works for Rome. I guess he’ll whip them into submission as well.”
The other one shakes her head.
“I hear they’re planning to start a new gang and stand up against Rome,” she says.
“Seriously? Wouldn’t that be dangerous? Tsk. Looks like this year’s gonna be more difficult than ever.”
The two of them keep on talking about the impending fight against the two gangs as they make their way inside the school.
“Young master, we’re here,” says the elderly butler.
The butler opens the door. Out of it comes a boy, his crisp uniform and imposing aura already drawing glances from the crowd.
Tsk, what a nuisance to have to walk with these imbeciles, the boy thinks to himself as he touches the frames of his glasses. No matter, this will be the last year anyway, he thinks further as he walks inside, everyone’s eyes still on him as he walks forward.
“Hey hey, what club are you joining this year?” a large group starts discussing as they go.
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“I’ll be back at the volleyball club,” one answers.
“Again? Don’t you guys keep on losing at meets?” another not-so-jokingly comments.
“I’d rather be at the art club. We hardly do anything. Club points for free!” yells another.
The group laughs loudly, messing with each other as they enter.
“It looks like the old hag last year really outdid herself with the school name,” a boy says, referring to a large wall at the very front of the school.
The wall has the name of the academy, Saint Micheal Academy, written in three dimensional letters each a foot tall, using a shiny metallic material. Below the academy name are the words, STAND FIRM, HOLD STRONG.
“Stand firm, hold strong? What kind of nonsense is that? Maybe the old hag went nuts on her final moments,” the boy’s friend jokes.
They both laugh as they enter.
“Woah, the school looks brand new!” a student comments.
“I know right. It’s kinda cool. I heard all the facilities have been upgraded as well,” replies her friend.
“Hmph, it won’t last long though. You know how quickly students here tear down things. Let’s bet on how long before these newly painted walls get vandalized,” says the first.
“Sure!”
And the two go on their way.
Little do these people know that as they speak, among the crowd, are eight people, all silently listening to their comments, all silently preparing to bring the school to its feet. And the only one smiling among the eight is a small girl with raven hair tied in a bun, wearing three-inch heels, her uniform well-fitted.
Aiea Allorein Ambersworth. Three A’s. Trace. The center of the oncoming storm.
**********
The entrance of the school boasts a large statue of the archangel Micheal, who is the patron saint of the school. Beyond the statue is the school grounds, fresh green lawn grass. At the very back are the poles, three of them, one at the center for the nation’s flag, one for the school emblem to the right, and a new, purple flag to the left.
Inside, the entire school has been refurbished. The five buildings are all standing proud in their brick walls. Each building has been installed with new shining windows, automatic doors, and brown-painted wood-designed hallways. Security cameras have been installed in places.
The five separate buildings form a semi-pentagon, the four academic buildings to the sides, and the administrative building in the center. The buildings are similar, all with five floors, except the academic buildings are taller and wider, while the academic building stands small in the middle. .
Behind the administrative building is the school dome, one of the largest in the city.
Inside each class room are thirty white plastic chairs, a pair of green boards. A teacher’s table and chair stands atop a riser in front of the room.
This year, there are a total of a thousand five hundred sixty three students officially enrolled in the school. These students are divided into two groups, junior high school and senior high school. Junior high school, with four year levels, each year level further divided into eight sections each. Senior high school has two year levels, also divided into eight sections. Each section has an average of thirty students.
It’s a new year for Saint Michael Academy, and it’s for students, another year of trouble. Or so the students think. But not this year, not this year. For this year, all one thousand five hundred sixty three of them will run in the palms of one tyrant who will rise from the shadows. And here she comes, ready to take the school by storm. Trace.
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