4 Joining The Academy
"Welcome to Class-Z, Raphael Queen. Though I am not your designated instructor, I remain at your disposal. Should you ever require assistance, don't hesitate to seek me out."
Raphael barely registered the words, his adolescent mind preoccupied. Nevertheless, he gave a polite nod in acknowledgement before joining the trio of students designated to Class-Z.
"Ahem," Metal Man cleared his throat, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he surveyed the collected students. "Let's proceed with the examination."
The talent displayed by this year's freshmen was indeed a cut above the previous batches.
Time sped by as the examination ensued, the palpable tension in the room gradually dissipating as the last paper was collected. When the scores were revealed, it hardly came as a shock that Raphael had outdone everyone. His score was a towering peak that none could scale.
Trailing behind, yet not too far away, was a fiery-haired teenager. His score of fifteen thousand points would have earned him a spot in Class-Z, had Raphael's brilliance not overshadowed him.
He was irked, attributing Raphael's superior strength to their one-year age difference. In his eyes, without that advantage, Raphael wouldn't stand a chance.
With the examination concluded, Metal Man's voice rang out again, "I hereby welcome you all to Holy Savior Academy." He paused, his statement left hanging in the air as a burly man strode confidently into the room.
Ignoring the sea of students, he ascended the stage, leaning in to whisper something into Metal Man's ear.
Metal Man's face tightened into a frown, his words with the burly man barely audible. The look on his face was one of clear displeasure.
Raphael, however, was not focused on Metal Man. His gaze was fixed on the bulky man, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. His eyes, usually soft and warm, now burned with a murderous intensity.
To others, this man was a stranger, but not to Raphael. He recognized him instantly - his uncle, William Queen, better known as Ximic.
William's fame was such that, were his identity known to the students, they would have swarmed him, begging for autographs, photos, or even a chance to become his disciple.
As the fourth most powerful metahuman in the world, William's abilities were formidable - a photographic reflex allowing him to flawlessly mimic any physical action, no matter the complexity.
"Get it done this instant!" William's voice thundered through the silence. His command issued, he turned and strode out of the room, ignoring his nephew entirely. His face remained impassive as he exited, leaving behind a stunned audience.
The students watched in silence as Metal Man wrestled with his clearly roiling emotions. His tightly clenched fists a testament to his fury.
The silence stretched out, heavy and uncomfortable until finally Metal Man broke it.
"Uh-um," he stuttered, his voice noticeably weaker, "There seems to have been an error in the examination results. Raphael Queen, you will be reassigned to Class-Y."
"Jacob Archibald," he continued, his voice gaining strength, "You have been promoted to Class-Z." His announcement complete, he added, "I will leave you in capable.
The events that unfolded left everyone in a state of profound disbelief. Even the most naive observer could see that the burly man who had materialized earlier was somehow intertwined with the inexplicable scenario that had just taken place.
The heavy bag had been faultless, and there was simply no logical explanation for the results. The only plausible cause was some covert manipulation, some unseen power at play behind the scenes.
Jacob, who had scored a respectable 15000 points, was inexplicably assigned to Class Z, while Raphael, with a score double that, was relegated to Class Y. The outcome was a baffling divergence from the norm that left everyone stunned.
The outrage of the man they called 'Metal Man' made sense now. He must have been instructed by the burly man to enact this bizarre reshuffling.
Jacob, the fiery-haired teenager who had scored second only to Raphael, wore a smug expression as the Class Z assignment was handed to him.
His sneer was a stark reminder of the societal chasm between the privileged and the middle-class. His message was clear: No matter how talented you are, your societal standing always plays a role.
"Fools!" he declared, his face awash with arrogance as a sea of stunned faces stared back at him.
The students couldn't help but wonder what sort of influential connection he could wield in the academy to orchestrate such a drastic shift.
Raphael, however, simply shook his head. "I must say, William has outdone himself this time," he murmured, before departing from the exam arena.
He didn't linger for the next instructor to appear, instead, he brought forth a skateboard – a stark contrast to his previous gadget-free appearances.
The skateboard was more than just a mode of transportation for him; it was his means of engaging with the urban landscape, a tangible sense of speed and balance, and above all, a canvas for self-expression.
Before he knew it, Raphael had traversed the academy grounds and was now meandering through the streets of Taurus City.
He meandered aimlessly for a few minutes before eventually halting his journey at a quaint coffee shop.
"Two coffees, please," Raphael announced as he walked in, receiving an acknowledging nod from the man behind the counter before settling down at a table.
The warm aroma of coffee soon wafted towards him, but it wasn't the barista who delivered the brew. "You're late," came a feminine voice, as the coffee was set before him.
Raphael looked up, a smile spreading across his face as he saw the woman standing in front of him. "Better late than never," he replied smoothly.
Without missing a beat, the woman asked, "Where is it?!" Radiating a unique beauty, she was clad in a brown and white café uniform. Her frowning expression did nothing to mask her radiant looks.
Raphael gestured towards the seat opposite him. As she sat, he retrieved a suitcase from his interspatial ring, a piece of legendary equipment that had always intrigued him.
"The gun's weakness has been dealt with. Now where's my payment?" he asked nonchalantly.
Upon hearing his words, a smile graced her face. "It's all ready for you," she replied as she signaled the man behind the counter. He promptly brought a large black suitcase to their table and retreated to his original position.
"1 million noxus," she said.
A long-standing business relationship had woven a quiet trust between Raphael and the woman. It wasn't a deep, intimate connection, but a bond formed through countless transactions of equipment and currency.
They'd built and modified, negotiated and bartered, and in the process, unspoken respect and reliance had taken root.
Raphael slid a suitcase towards the woman, his hands lingering on the cool surface. She reciprocated, her own case sliding across the table towards him.
As their fingers touched their respective prizes, an electrifying glow seemed to ignite around them, particularly around Raphael. It was not just a suitcase to him, but a promise of future possibilities, of new tools and gadgets he could bring to life.
The woman, having pushed her suitcase aside, scrutinized Raphael with a penetrating gaze. "Are you really going to Holy Savior Academy, even after they gave your spot away?" she questioned, her tone lacing the air with tension.
"Those so-called 'guardians of society' are nothing but hypocrites," she continued, her voice a bitter symphony. "They wield their power to oppress, not protect. It's not the first time someone less privileged had his position usurped by those in power. No offense, Raphael, but that's the truth. All it took was one phone call from Jacob's father, and the Academy bent to his whim."
Raphael didn't question how she knew about his situation at the Academy. Serena was far from ordinary.
The array of weapons and high-tech gadgets she dealt with suggested a powerful position, if not official then certainly influential. If she could provide him with nuclear blueprints, it was no stretch for her to have inside information about the Academy.
Raphael dismissed her. "It's fine, Lady Serena. If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave." He made to rise, but her hand caught his, freezing him in place.
He jerked his hand back, eyes flashing with annoyance. Serena just laughed. "Come on, it's not like I'm going to eat you. Why don't you work for me full time?"
Raphael shook his head. "Lady Serena, I believe this is the seventy-eighth time you've asked. My answer is still no." He had no desire to entangle himself further with this woman.
His work for her was driven by the thrill of the gadgets she supplied, and the handsome payment she offered. The day he found another income source would be the day he severed ties with her.
Serena took his refusal in stride, her enthusiasm undiminished. "Raphael, you can't seriously be considering going to the Academy. Imagine this as a different kind of academy, a better one than that hellhole you're considering."
Raphael crossed his arms defiantly. "My answer remains no."
Serena bit her lip, a rare display of frustration. Losing Raphael to Holy Savior Academy was a blow she wasn't willing to take. A determined spark lit in her eyes.
"What if the Academy paid you? 3 million noxus." She blurted before he could respond, then hastily increased her offer. "Alright, 5 million noxus." She knew Raphael's value, and was prepared to pay it, even if it emptied her own coffers. She wanted Raphael on her team, no matter the cost.
Serena was determined to secure Raphael's allegiance, and she knew exactly how to get it. "Raphael, consider this," she began, her voice smooth and persuasive, "You join my academy, we provide you with all the tools and resources you need, and we help treat your mother."
Raphael's response was immediate, his face betraying his thoughts before words even left his lips. His fingers curled into a fist, and he locked eyes with Serena. "Fine," he agreed tersely, "I'll join the academy."
He had seen Serena's power, her resources, her connections. He knew she could make good on her promise.
"But," he added after a moment's pause, "I want a monthly payment of ten million noxus."
Serena's face lit up in triumph, she hastily agreed, "Consider it done!" But her victory was short-lived as the enormity of his demand sunk in. "Wait, what?"
Raphael's lips curled into a smug smile, "We should get going then. The academy resumed two weeks ago."
"Wait," he held up a hand, his gaze shifting to the window, "There's something I need to take care of first."
Serena turned to follow his gaze, her eyes landing on the sight of Jacob conversing with a brunette, two bodyguards in black suits looming nearby. She watched as Raphael walked out of the cafe, his gaze fixed on Jacob.
Raphael removed his black gloves and began walking towards Jacob. Just before he reached him, he called out in a loud, clear voice, "Everyone, look, it's Ultraman."
The city came alive instantly, residents pouring out of their homes and shops, all eyes turned to the sky. Jacob and his bodyguards, too, were distracted, their attention shifting upwards.
In the moment of distraction, Raphael struck. He slammed his palm into Jacob's chest, propelling him backwards.
Jacob stumbled, clutching his chest and gasping for breath. His eyes darted around in confusion and panic, but the crowd was too thick, too chaotic.
Then, suddenly, he doubled over, spitting out a mouthful of blood, before collapsing onto the ground.
The crowd, realizing there was no Ultraman, began to disperse. It was only then that Jacob's bodyguards noticed their charge on the ground. Panic set in and they hastily picked him up, rushing him away from the scene.
Meanwhile, Serena watched Raphael with a new sense of awe and fear. "I underestimated you," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your power...it's something else."
Raphael offered a nonchalant shrug, "I only kill when it's necessary. With people like that around, the world can never be a better place."
Serena frowned, "You do know that the leaf is of insignificance, what matters is getting rid of the root."
Raphael said nothing, but the same demonic grin that had appeared earlier was back on his face. Serena watched him, her mind racing.
Finally, she pointed towards a turning in the city, "The academy is this way." Without waiting for his response, she grabbed his hand and yanked him along, both of them disappearing from the city.
