Colors.
Pretty amazing, right?
They're just wavelengths of light, each vibrating differently. Red is long, blue is short, and everything else falls in between. Our eyes catch them with tiny cones and send the signals to our brains. Some animals see more, some less. Birds see ultraviolet, dogs see fewer shades, and some deep-sea creatures live in total darkness.
But at the end of the day… it's just light. A wave. A vibration.
"From the moment you're born," the teacher said, scanning the class, "everyone is assigned a color. Not just in your eyes or clothes,but a unique frequency.This color… it's tied to your potential. Your power. Your connection to the world."
He stopped and looked at Childe in the front row. "Don't get cocky just because your color is strong."
The teacher grabbed chalk. "Humans are ranked by tiers. Z to A… then 11 to 0. Zero is the highest, but it can't be measured. You only know your tier when you 'ascend.' How and when that happens… it's different for everyone.
He wrote numbers and letters across the board. "When you ascend, you learn the tier you reached at that moment. That's it. It might change afterward, but you'll never know it again. Along with it, you're also told your highest potential tier—how far you could go."
He stepped back. "Some people never reach their potential without struggle. Others blast past everyone when no one expects it. That's how the system works. Just remember: the world is full of mysteries, and these two concepts—birth color and tier—are the core everyone shares."
He placed the chalk down. "Stay curious. Chase adventure. Alright, that's it for today's class."
Axell yawned loudly, as if the entire thing was painfully boring.
___
Axell jayden,
Birth colour-
Beige #DEB887
Age:11
6th grade
The bell rang, and the classroom emptied like released pressure. Axell strolled out last, still half-asleep, hands in his pockets. By the time he reached the playground, the usual group was already kicking the football around.
"Oi, Axell! Finally awake?"
"Come join, bro!"
"Yeah, yeah…" he sighed, walking onto the field like a king arriving late to his own coronation.
He stretched lazily, muttering, "Watch me carry this entire match."
The game started.
Within fifteen seconds, Axell was already out of breath.
"Bro, can't you run?"
Axell wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead. "I could, but I don't want to embarrass you guys."
Everyone rolled their eyes.
But then something subtle happened.
When a kid rushed toward him to steal the ball, Axell barely moved — he just flicked his hand. A soft beige dust, barely visible, puffed up from the ground and drifted into the attacker's eyes.
"Ugh—what the hell?not again!
He tripped over his own feet.
Axell didn't miss a beat. He nodded like this was expected.
"Happens when you challenge greatness."
Another boy sprinted at him. Axell tried to run. He made it exactly four steps before wheezing.
But as the boy passed him, Axell's instincts kicked in: the beige undertone in his skin shimmered faintly, and for a second, the runner felt heavier, slower, like his legs were stuck in warm clay.
He slowed just long enough for Axell to poke the ball away — clumsy, but effective.
The kids stared.
"Did Axell… get good?"
"No way, bro. This is pure luck."
Axell raised his chin proudly.
"Skill. Learn the word."
He stood there, not even chasing the ball, dust swirling around his shoes like a loyal pet. He didn't know he was doing it. He thought he was just amazing.
The game went on, and soon Axell wasn't the only one showing flashes of power.
A kid birth color white, went in for a long pass. As the ball flew off his foot, the white and black football,for just a second, the ball accelerated unnaturally.
"WOAH—!"
The goalkeeper panicked as the ball zipped past faster than physics should allow.
"That wasn't me," the kid said proudly. "It was the wind."
Everyone knew that was a lie.
Back at the center of the field, Axell wiped imaginary dust off his shoulder.
"Tch… amateurs."
(He was the least athletic person there, but who was going to tell him that?)
Another kid kicked the ball toward Axell. The moment it rolled to his feet, a soft swirl of beige dust rose around his ankles. Natural. Effortless. Like the color wanted to play too.
"Don't choke, Axell!"
He smirked. "I never choke. I let others shine."
(He had absolutely choked twice today.)
He kicked-
Terrible technique, obviously.
But a burst of beige dust pushed the ball just enough to make it look intentional… and cool.
His teammates stared.
"Did he just—?"
"No way…"
"Axell? Nah. Must've been the field."
Axell flipped his hair.
"Yeah, the field likes me."
---
All around the playground, colors flickered like soft sparks , tiny, instinctive, half-formed abilities that hinted at futures far bigger.
None of them were strong.
But they were growing.
The ball rolled lazily toward him again. He barely moved, smirking as if the game existed just to showcase his brilliance.
A kick came flying—but it wasn't the ball. A brown-skinned girl had misjudged her aim, and her cleat clipped him squarely in the shin.
"Ow—hey!" he yelped, hopping on one foot, glaring with mock indignation.
She barely looked at him, chuckling as she sprinted past. A faint swirl of grey energy followed the ball, making it glide a fraction faster than normal.
It hit the net perfectly.
"Score!" the others cheered.
Axell dusted off his pants, holding his chin high like he'd planned the whole thing. "Tactical foul," he said proudly. "Testing reflexes. She passed with flying colors."
The girl laughed and jogged back to the center, completely ignoring him.
Axell puffed his chest out, smirk fixed, convinced everyone was admiring his genius—even though he'd just been kicked and outplayed.
The sun was dipping low, casting long golden streaks across the lake. The water shimmered softly, reflecting the pale sky and the trees swaying in the breeze.
Axell sat on a flat rock near the shore, legs stretched out, bag of chips in hand. He picked up exactly four chips at a time—never three, never five—and stuffed them into his mouth with exaggerated care, crunching loudly with each bite.
The brown-skinned girl with the grey birth color plopped down beside him, balancing on her hands. She had a smirk plastered across her face, still amused by the earlier football mishap.
He glanced at her between bites, his eyes half-lidded, lips smacking. "Wazzup, peasant," he drawled, voice dripping with mock superiority.
She rolled her eyes, laughing. "You really think eating chips in a row makes you king of the lake?"
"Obviously," he said, crunching the next four chips. "Look at me. Observe the perfection."
She shook her head, settling back and watching him with a faint grin. The lake was quiet except for the gentle lapping of water and the occasional rustle of leaves.
Even if he acted like the world revolved around him, she didn't mind. Somehow, he made laziness feel… entertaining.
He paused mid-bite, crumbs falling onto his lap, and offered her a chip. "Want one, peasant?"
She snorted, taking it. "You know I could take the whole bag if I wanted."
"Try it," he said, smirking. "I dare you."
And for a moment, the sun, the lake, the chips, and the two of them sitting side by side felt… like a small, lazy kind of paradise.
The evening sun stretched long across the lake, casting fiery reflections on the water. The air shimmered faintly with their colors—grey and beige—but for a moment, all that mattered was the fight.
She lunged, fists glowing faintly with her grey aura, strength radiating in every move. He barely moved, leaning lazily, beige dust stirring at his feet to resist her blows just enough.
Mid-swing, she stopped, chest heaving. "Axell… tell me," she said, eyes sharp, serious. "Why do you fight? What do you want?"
He yawned, brushing imaginary dust from his pants. "Me? I just want to… live. That's it. Survive, not die. Nothing fancy. Nothing heroic."
She narrowed her eyes, and for the first time, her voice softened. "I see… simple, then. My goal… my only goal… is to find my father. He's been missing for four years. Everything I do, every step I take… it's for him."
Her grey aura pulsed faintly, almost trembling with the weight of her words. The world seemed to pause around them—the lake, the wind, even his lazy beige dust seemed to hush.
Axell stepped back, mid-move, still half-lidded and unconcerned. His elbow brushed her chest… and the delicate chain around her neck snapped with a soft but cruel snap.
The necklace fell to the ground, broken.
"You… you IDIOT!" she shouted, her voice sharp, trembling with fury. "Do you have any idea what that necklace meant to me?!"
Before he could answer, she moved. Grey aura flared around her, fists a blur. A deadly punch combo, lightning-quick, barreled toward him. Each strike could have shattered bone, each swing radiated years of pent-up anger.
Axell stumbled back, barely raising his arms. Beige dust swirled frantically at his feet, slowing her blows just enough to avoid catastrophe. His body ached from the force, sweat forming on his brow.
"Woah, woah—easy! Easy! I—I get it!" he stammered, voice rising to match hers. "I messed up! I did! That necklace—your dad! I—!"
She didn't pause. Her fists screamed through the air, each strike closer than the last. The wind itself seemed to echo her fury.
Axell groaned, deflecting the last punch barely, beige dust shimmering desperately underfoot. "Look—look! Listen! I can't give it back, but I will help! I'll help you find him, okay?!"
Her strikes slowed, just slightly, as she caught the raw sincerity—or maybe the sheer ridiculousness—of his words. His laziness, his ego, everything absurd about him, somehow mixed with a promise she couldn't ignore.
She stepped back, chest heaving, fists still glowing faintly. "…Fine."
Axell straightened, trying to look heroic while internally feeling like he had just barely survived an execution. "Fine?"
"Yes," she snapped, pointing at him. "You're now stuck with me. My partner. If we find him, don't think this forgives what you just did!"
Axell smirked, dust settling around him. "Partner, huh? Guess surviving just got… interesting."
The lake reflected their tense silhouettes—one furious, one lazy but alive. A reluctant alliance was born in anger, fear, and the weight of a missing father.
Nothing would ever be the same.