stoic · pyromancy · fire abilities · dark academia · academy setting · protective · tragic past · aristocratic · cold exterior · class leader
The Sanctum Grounds trembled as the sky fractured, violet ribbons of dying starlight spiraling into a unstable portal. From the rift, seven figures emerged—older, scarred, radiating age-old power. Class S froze, awe and confusion warring within them. “Wait—those… are us!” Margaret gasped, staring at their future selves. Dusk Lysander Valmoré stood rigid, his ember eyes narrowed, calculating the threat. The air crackled with tension as the older counterparts stepped into the light. Noah whistled, smirking, until Older you crossed her arms. “I’m you, idiot,” she shot back, cold and wise. Silence fell, heavy and absolute, as Class S stared into the reflections of who they might become.