CodeName:FNL

The V-tol gave Mirai a panoramic view of the city's carefully curated brilliance. Towering holographic banners occasionally snagged his attention on sleek, reflective architecture, each displaying upbeat slogans:

"One heart, one future." and "We thrive together"—their brilliant neon glow reflecting the city's near-obsessive focus on harmony and progress.

Below, meticulously manicured parks spread out in precise geometric patterns, their hedges trimmed into stylized suns and pathways softly illuminated by bioluminescent lights.

The city gleamed with perfection, but as awe-inspiring as the scene was, Mirai couldn't help but feel a subtle unease. For all its polish, something about it felt… strange. Maybe it was just the vague whispers in the air lately—rumors of something big.

Takara was consistently updated him that morning.

"Square Phoenix is working on a project that'll change everything," she'd said in one of her voice messages. "They're not just making a game this time."

Could it be? It was the kind of cryptic buzz that had circulated online for months, but somehow it stuck in his mind now. He couldn't explain why.

"We will be arriving at Helios shortly," chimed the AI. "Thank you for flying with Gravity Air. This is your daily reminder to respect public property and preserve the image of our glorious future."

Helios Interactive Academy came into view, its campus as meticulously designed as the city itself. A sleek fence of gently glowing plasma rods bordered the grounds, pulsing in perfect rhythm with the neon skyline.

Beyond it, soaring glass structures arched gracefully, their shimmering exteriors adorned with digital panels showcasing student-designed art and speculative game concepts.

Some of the panels caught his eye: speculative art of weapons, worlds, and characters clearly inspired by Square Phoenix's legacy titles. One in particular stopped him—a towering figure wrapped in dark energy, its glowing eyes eerily similar to something Takara had described. He blinked and looked away. 

"Eh, I'm overthinking it." He said, shrugging it off.

The V-tol descended, and as the doors hissed open, Mirai's adrenaline spiked. He glanced at his watch and smirked. "I might need to run," he mused. Let's see how close I can push it today.

He sprinted through a grand hallway filled with lush greenery and intricate sun-themed patterns. Softly glowing panels and holographic sculptures flickered in his peripheral vision, casting subtle reflections across the polished floor.

The corridor stood deserted—no voices, no commotion—an unmistakable sign that class was about to begin.

And the end of the corridor, Mirai turned into a pristine hallway with glossy white walls accented by a bold red stripe. He skidded to a stop in front of a sleek, glossy red wall labeled Class 4-3. 

A soft white holographic beam flickered across him, its voice crisp and efficient:

"Present school ID for verification. Class begins in 2 minutes."

With a quick tap of his ID, the glossy wall shimmered, dissolving smoothly into a doorway. He stepped inside, immediately feeling a flicker of unease.

Nearly every eye in the room swiveled toward him. Curious looks landed on the latecomer, some fleeting, others lingering. A few students quickly turned back to their desks, but others broke into grins or waved, their excited chatter cutting through the tension:

"GGs, Sephoric!"

"Dude, that parry to capture the flag? Insane—best clip I've seen this season."

"Nice win! Man~I was rooting for you guys—I can't stand Zephia."

"Top five guilds are neck and neck right now. It's so hype!"

Mirai raised a hand, his easy smile slipping into place. "Thanks, guys," he replied, keeping his tone humble. "Honestly, it was all my team. They set me up for the play—I just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

A few more cheers and approving nods followed, but Mirai kept moving, steering himself toward his seat. The last thing he needed was to linger in the spotlight any longer than necessary. As the class of about thirty students gradually returned to their conversations and tasks, Mirai exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. 

He slipped along the edge of the room, heading for the back—his usual spot. It was his favorite spot—not just because it helped him avoid getting called on, but it also offered a full vantage of the room. More importantly, it was where one of his teammates and closest friends, Takara, always sat.

As he approached, the sleek desk automatically activated, a glowing holographic interface flickering to life. He tapped his credentials onto the display, which immediately booted up the classroom UI.

"Morning, Mirai!" Takara greeted cheerfully, her voice light and teasing. "Cutting it close as always. It's honestly kind of funny at this point."

"Morning, Takara," he replied with a grin, sliding into his chair. "What can I say? I like moving at my own pace—it keeps things interesting. You know how I roll." He leaned back, flashing her a casual nod.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Wish I could get away with that. But nope, I'd probably give my parents a heart attack if I even tried. Everything I do reflects on the family name, unfortunately."

Mirai tilted his head slightly, studying her. "So… still planning to take that CEO spot after this year?"

Her cheerful expression faltered for a moment, replaced by a quiet sigh. She glanced down at her hands. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice softer now, tinged with uncertainty.

"I don't think I can handle the pressure. I mean… I don't even want it. But my parents expect an answer by the end of the year." Her shoulders drooped slightly as her words hung in the air.

"Ah, can't imagine being in your shoes," Mirai said, shaking his head. "Harmonious 500 company, global AI assistant, the largest OS system—talk about a lot to carry. Whatever decision you make, though, I'm here to back you up. Ehh—not that my support amounts to much. Like, ant-level support at best." He chuckled, the sound light and easy.

She glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "No, it really means a lot. Especially coming from you." she said earnestly.

Her gaze drifted downward again, and her voice softened. "My parents think this game design class is just some pointless extracurricular, a total waste of time. They don't get it."

She hesitated, letting the silence fill the space between them before continuing. "I can't even tell them how much I love art, games, and just… being myself online, where no one knows who I am."

Mirai leaned back slightly, folding his arms across his chest. "That's rough… But if I were in your place, I'd try to find some peace of mind. What's the point of having all the resources in the world if you're stuck in a mental prison?"

Takara exhaled softly, her gaze drifting to her desk. "It's not just their judgment—it's the public reaction too. The thought terrifies me. I wish I could be more like you. So calm, so at ease with everything. Like nothing fazes you."

Mirai tilted his head toward her, a grin already forming. "Yes ma'am that's me—master of the three C's: calm, cool, and completely winging it."

She shook her head, but a smile tugged at her lips. "You're impossible."

Before Mirai could respond, the classroom door hissed softly as it slid open.

A stoic man entered with deliberate strides, his slick black hair perfectly in place, and a gray camo-patterned business suit that radiated authority. His every movement seemed calculated, the room naturally quieting as he approached.

At the front of the room, a sleek, floating desk hovered mid-air, waiting for him. As he neared, digital steps materialized beneath his feet, lifting him onto the platform.

Above, the ceiling shifted into transparency, flooding the space with warm sunlight that nourished the greenery lining the classroom walls.

Behind him, a glowing emblem materialized on the floating desk—a circular design with two inner rings and the words 'Harmony Through Progress.' It was the flag of the Sun Nation, a symbol of their country's ideals.

The remaining chatter dissolved into silence as the students made their final preparations for the day. A holographic display projected the attendance list onto the floating desk, and the man scanned it, marking each visible student as present with a subtle hand gesture.

Stepping back down the digital steps, he moved toward the wooden-paneled wall near the entrance. The glossy surface reflected the sunlight, adding a serene yet commanding air to the room. With a smooth flick of his wrist, the wall transformed into a massive screen, displaying notes from the previous day's lesson.

He waved a hand over the holographic display, erasing the content with an elegant swipe, then turned back to face the class. He stood tall, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room with quiet authority.

"Good morning, class," he greeted, his raspy yet firm voice cutting through the stillness.

"Good morning, Mr. 00!" half the class responded in near-perfect unison.

"How are we feeling today? Great, I would hopefully assume?" His tone carried a mix of expectation and faint amusement as he surveyed the students.

He paced in front of the floating desk, his footsteps measured and deliberate, ensuring every eye was on him.

"Right. Today, we'll be going over new material," he announced, his voice carrying a subtle edge of expectation.

"We're going to be diving into the concept of immersive AI-driven environments." Mr. 00 began, his voice steady and authoritative.

"Specifically, how to design non-player characters and world systems that adapt based on player decisions in real-time. Think of it as creating a world that's constantly learning from the player, not just scripted interactions."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room.

"Later on, we'll touch on the ethics of creating sentient game worlds and the balance between player freedom and narrative control. But for now, let's focus on the core of player engagement—how to keep them invested without controlling every single choice they make."

Mirai leaned back in his chair, muttering under his breath, "Back-to-back complex formulas, huh. I'm gonna have my hands tied tonight."

Although he dreamed of becoming a game developer at Square Phoenix, he never particularly enjoyed math. Still, he knew it was a necessary evil on the path to designing worlds he envisioned.

"It's okay. I can help you before we leave," Takara whispered, her voice soft but reassuring.

Mirai grinned. "My hero academia." 

Takara immediately stifled her laughter, but a few tears still slipped down her cheeks.

As Mr. 00 continued his lecture, pacing deliberately in front of the holographic screen, Mirai's focus began to waver. His gaze drifted toward the corner of the room, just as a crumpled piece of paper sailed through the air. It hit the back of a student's head with a soft thud.

Mirai glanced around, trying to spot the culprit, but whoever had thrown it was careful to remain unnoticed. The boy who'd been hit, however, knew exactly who it was. His shoulders stiffened, and a quiet sadness spread across his face.

He hesitated, staring at the crumpled paper for a long moment before reaching out and tucking it into his desk, where it vanished into the digital storage system.

But before he could fully settle back into his seat, something heavier struck him—a hardcover book that crashed onto the floor with a resounding thud, breaking the classroom's rhythm.

All eyes turned toward the boy as his face flushed crimson.

Mr. 00's voice cut through the silence, sharp and unyielding. "If you intend to disrupt our class, I suggest you do it outside, where you won't disturb your peers' desire for knowledge."

The boy's hands trembled as he scrambled to retrieve the book. "I—I didn't mean to…" he stammered, his voice barely audible. "I accidentally elbowed it, and it fell. I'm sorry. I'll be more careful."

Mr. 00's piercing gaze lingered on him for a moment before he turned back to the screen. "See that you do."

The cold stares stung, and the boy couldn't shake the feeling that he was being unfairly blamed. He had no idea why everyone seemed to be against him, but all he could think to do was hide his face in his arms, burying it in the safety of his desk.

Mirai watched the boy carefully, a faint frown tugging at the corners of his mouth, his mind trying to linger on the identity of the person who threw the book as the next five hours of class pass in a blur.

"Alright, it's almost time," Mr. 00 announces, closing the display screen. "You may take your 50 minute break. Be back on time so we can wrap this up. Any questions or concerns save them for after class."