Who The Hell Is Main Character?

"Talk about grand entrance...*cough*" Maeve coughed, and waved her hand as smoke billowed in the surrounding air.

Marcellus looked back at the plane as medics approached them, and then back at his hand.

And he just nodded.

"Is everyone alright? Cadets?" the medical team with a signia of lion on their blue tracksuits approached them while fire squad worked on captaining the flames.

"Uh, yes we’re alright. There were no injuries," Maeve said.

"I’m fine too," Marcellus spoke.

"But just in case...if you feel something, visit the infirmary without any delays, is that alright?"

"Yes, we’ll do." Maeve nodded.

"Shall we g-" She was about to ask Marcellus if they should leave, but he had already wandered off, staring at the building towering the clouds on the Island.

International Awakeners Academy. IAA.

An academy under the association of Awakeners Union.

But he wasn’t interest in the towering building. He was interested in the structure of Island itself.

The side on which they were, was the entrance, and comparably lower in altitude. The building in itself was drilled into the mountains, it was a marvel of engineering.

"Young Master!" Maeve called him out.

He turned around to look at her.

"Shall we?" She gestured at the luxury van waiting for them to escort at their dorms.

He nodded and followed her.

There were three residential districts in the Academy for Cadets.

First was the Cadet’s residence. With a structure of Hotel rooms. These house around 90% of students, who share two-person suites, get standard training access, curfew, communal dining, equal facilities.

Second was Honors Residence. Reserved for roughly the top 100. Not because they’re special, but they’re constantly recruited by organization. This features private rooms, individual training chambers, professor access, private meetings rooms.

And lastly, the Royal Wing. This has nothing to do with ranks. This is for politically sensitive individuals.

These features suites with two or more separate rooms, like a luxury flat. These are for heirs of great houses, royal family members, Union delegates’ children, Foreign state representatives, Witness protection Cadets.

Despite being within top 100, Maeve was not assigned a room in Honors residence, instead she was assigned a suite along with Marcellus in Royal Wing.

You don’t receive better services just because you’re strong, you receive better services because your family has built it for you.

The pillars of each generation don’t receive better dorms, instead they have authority.

"This is your Key-card." She handed him a black metallic card with insignia of lion etched in grey while they were in the lift.

Marcellus noticed that nobody was escorting them. Given the amount of adjustments an Academy have made for their stay, he expected an escort.

’I guess this isn’t a five-star hotel...’ he thought.

The whole Royal Wing was incredibly quiet.

Because most of the cadets that reside in this wing were still on their way. And those who arrived have not yet left their suites.

The gates of the lift opened with a soft chime.

And Maeve moved ahead first, as if it wasn’t her first time coming here.

But she had memorized the layout of the map of most of the buildings and the Island.

While Marcellus had the habit walking casually with his hands in pocket and roaming all over the corridor. Maeve move with grace and confidence. Her long black hair would sway against her back with every step, and her light violet blazer’s hem would sway in the air.

’She walks like a model...’ Marcellus thought, as his eyes locked on her figure from behind.

She stopped in front of a set of grand doube doors and swiped her own card, and the doors swung open to reveal an expansive suite.

It was more like a high-end penthouse than a dorm room. Open living area, floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the Island and ocean, a modern kitchen, and two separate bedrooms connected by a shared lounge.

"This will be our residence during the entirety of the program. Your bedroom is on the left, mine is on the right. It was something the team decided on their own and already made adjustments accordingly." She stepped in and started explaining him.

""There are strict rules. Assigned assistants are forbidden from completing any tasks that belong to their masters. If caught, you will be the one penalized, not me. I apologize in advance for any limitations that causes..." She said and bowed slight.

Maeve straightened, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "We can request private rations if we don’t want to eat at the cafeteria. Private training grounds are currently closed and will remain so until the first official session."

Marcellus nodded.

She glanced at his soot-stained uniform, then at her own.

"I suggest you take a shower and change. We both look... untidy after the crash." She showed him her phone screen for reference, though the only image visible was a cute cartoonish white cat as her wallpaper.

"First session begins in one hour. Please don’t be late, Young Master."

Marcellus nodded, and stood alone and Maeve disappeared into her room.

The suite became strangely quiet.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows the academy stretched across the island like a small-city built into the mountain itself.

Featuring railway tracks and military protected zones.

Far below, transport vehicles moved between districts while aircraft continued circling overhead, waiting for clearance after the runway incident.

Smoke still rose from the edge of the airfield.

He watched the scenery for some time. They view was different, far more different from his previous life.

For the first time...Marcellus was feeling what freedom was like.

He watched the emergency crews surrounding the remaining private jets.

"...I suppose that was my fault." He murmured to himself.

He walked into his bedroom, and dropped the coat over a chair, and entered the shower longer than he intended.

-----

The delay spread across the island faster than the smoke could reach the clouds.

Cadets who had already arrived were forced to remain inside academic buildings while flight schedules were rearranged. Corridors that have been nearly empty gradually filled with young awakeners from every corner of the world.

Some wore military uniforms beneath coats, some chose fancy untucked shirts, and only a few wore uniforms along designated shirt and pants. But apparently, everyone seemed to love their blazers.

Lecture Hall Seven.

One after another, cadets entered without greeting each other. Some had already formed groups. Most heirs did not even pay attention to their assistants.

There were no loud introductions, no attempts to make friends, most simply chose a seat after briefly evaluating everyone already inside.

Dangerous people naturally measured a room before sitting in it.

Conversations remained low.

"...Apparently one of the private jets clipped the runway."

"I heard both its engines exploded, they’re still trying to find the reason of sudden turbulence that caused this."

"Maybe someone used force..."

"The Union is considering that possibility, but you never know,"

Near the windows sat a young woman quietly reading the vlog page of the IAA.

She had silver hair, and cold blue eyes that paired with her light violet blazer, a long black frock over a deep neck black top, and heeled boots.

Every few seconds she’d look up, observe someone entering, then return to her phone screen.

She listened to the surrounding conversations without participating, while her assistant, a young man wearing dark violet blazer, paired with black shirt and pants just sat attentively.

"...Which family?"

"...Severans."

"Marcellus? That support type was given admission?" one of them spoke a loud in shock.

’Support type?’ Inessa thought, finally looking up to people conversing.

’Heir of a military group is not a combatant, but...support type?’

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