Part 1: The Extremes and The Observer
Wayne didn't mind the anonymity; in fact, he cherished it. He wasn't much of a people person, and the constant, buzzing attention his brother received was draining. The twins entered the classroom and settled into their usual corner seats, navigating the last few, lingering greetings from their classmates.
"Okay, so how exactly are we going to get a car?" Wayne asked, opening his backpack with no intention of pulling out books.
Damien was already strategizing. "We can't afford one, and stealing is not an option. We need someone wealthy enough to give us one."
"And who, in this poverty-stricken school, is going to do that?"
Damien's eyes flickered to the opposite corner of the room. "We'll ask Celest."
Wayne's face twisted into an immediate scowl. "You're joking. That girl doesn't speak to anyone. She radiates 'go away' energy."
"We'll just be the first to break the ice," Damien said, standing up.
The camera pans slowly, focusing on the girl sitting alone in the furthest corner of the class, as isolated as an island. She was dressed entirely in deep black, the contrast making her skin seem pale, almost translucent. Her eyes were distant and vacant. This was Cecelia. Her last recorded energy ratio was 92% Negative Energy—the highest ever recorded among non-combatants post-war. She was the daughter of one of the world's wealthiest families, yet she remained a perfect loner, barely speaking in class.
Wayne took one look at her unsettling stillness and was thoroughly creeped out. He had no desire to approach that aura of silent doom. Flames silently engulfed his body, his unique, negative energy ability activating as he began to burn himself alive—a quiet, desperate plea for escape.
Damien, unconcerned, easily extinguished the flames with a swift, focused bubble of water that condensed and burst over his twin's head.
"Oh, don't be dramatic, Wayne," Damien chuckled, dragging his damp twin toward Cecelia's desk.
They sat heavily in the empty desks directly in front of her.
Damien's smile was radiant. "Hi."
Cecelia's dead, pale eyes slowly lifted, panning from the blank wall behind Damien to his bright, radiating face.
"What?" she said, her voice weak and shallow, as though she hadn't used it in weeks.
Damien maintained his winning smile. "Well, first, we'd like to know how you're doing."
Cecelia stared at Damien silently for ten long, agonizing seconds. The awkward silence felt like an eternity to Wayne, who quietly ignited himself again, his body flickering with a weak, desperate orange glow.
Damien put him out again with a precise, cold spray. "Don't mind him," Damien said, offering Cecelia another beam of positive energy.
"I'm leaving," Cecelia stated simply. She stood up, her movement slow and deliberate, and walked toward the door.
"Cecelia, wait—" Damien called, but she was already past the threshold.
Muffled student whispers followed her departure, sharp as darts: Why is Damien trying to talk to that weirdo? She's so creepy.
Cecelia heard them—she always heard them—but her vacant eyes didn't flicker. She continued walking, leaving the school entirely to head home.
Wayne wiped the residual water from his face. "Told you."
"Oh, man," Damien sighed, the radiance dimming slightly.
"Good luck getting that car," Wayne taunted gently.
"Yeah, we'll need to come up with a Plan B," Damien conceded.
Part 2: The Lecture and The Power System
The door swung open, and the class teacher, Mr. Han, walked in, adjusting his perpetually crooked glasses.
"Good morning, class. Settle down," Mr. Han said, gesturing to the open spot where Cecelia had been. "Today, we're doing a quick recap of the power system, specifically for our new transfer student. Please welcome Alex."
A new student, eyes wide with curiosity and nervousness, entered the room and sat down near the front. Alex seemed unable to take their eyes off Damien's corner.
Mr. Han began the lecture. "As you all know, we each possess a mixture of positive and negative energy. We are also all born with an innate ability. Alex, do you know what yours is?"
"Yes," Alex replied clearly. "I can see everyone's energy percentages. I don't fully understand how to use that info yet, though."
"Oh, that's an interesting one!" Mr. Han exclaimed. He gestured broadly toward the whiteboard, though he didn't draw anything yet.
"Well, Alex, think of power as a mountain range with three peaks, the middle one being the highest. Those at the far end peaks are people with the highest positive energy, like our friend Damien here, and those with the highest negative energy, like Celest, though she is absent today."
"At the center, however, lies the most difficult achievement: perfect synchronization (50/50). This is incredibly hard because we inherently resist changing ourselves, and finding that balance requires embracing the opposite of yourself—the Negative pole must nurture the Positive, and vice versa—and stopping when you reach the center. Most people tend to lean toward the extremes."
Mr. Han paused, adjusting his glasses. "I will say, however, energy is not a perfect measure of a person's nature. If that were the case, every person with negative energy above 50 would be convicted of crimes without trials, and vice versa. In fact, one of the most notorious criminals in the Simba prison has 75% positive energy."
Alex frowned. "You're losing me, sir."
"Right. For now, all you need to know is this: with your ability to see people's energies, you can gauge what kind of attacks to expect. People with higher positive energy have an affinity for learning water and wind powers, with cosmic-scale abilities at their highest level, their techniques mirroring celestial bodies. Meanwhile, those with higher negative energy master fire and earth easier, with spiritual and supernatural abilities at their upper limit. So, if you're fighting Damien, for example, you don't have to worry about him busting out a fire move. You'll need to study hard to make the best of your ability, Alex."
The entire class yawned in unison, the esoteric lesson having lulled them.
Mr. Han sighed heavily. "I think I've spoken enough for today. Your homework will be on page 14. And Wayne," he added sternly. "Do your homework this time."
Wayne, surprisingly, engaged. "I'm sick of being subjected to information I don't need. I'll never be a mathematician, so I don't need to do math homework."
Mr. Han pushed his glasses up his nose. "Your innate ability—applying mathematical operations to your energy to quantify and enhance it—would benefit directly from a better understanding of algebra. It pains me to see someone with the potential to be as strong as your brother waste it."
Wayne threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Well, then it seems like I need to have a word with the Deities and ask them why they gave me powers that require me to be a nerd."
Mr. Han gave another heavy sigh.
"I'll help him, sir," Damien offered with a reliable, reassuring smile. "We'll get it done."
Mr. Han smiled back, genuinely relieved. "Thank you, Damien. Class dismissed."