"This assembly concerns the annual tournament tradition at the Academy," he began. "However, this year marks a significant departure from previous formats."
Murmurs rippled through the auditorium. On the conference room screen, Leon could see students shifting in their seats, exchanging worried glances.
"Effective immediately, what was previously known as the Merit Competition will be restructured and renamed: The Crucible Games."
The screen behind the dean lit up with the title in bold letters. THE CRUCIBLE GAMES.
"Holy shit," Nick muttered.
Leah's friendly expression had vanished, replaced by something harder. She was leaning forward now, completely focused on the screen.
The dean continued. "The Crucible Games will operate under a new mandatory participation structure."
Students sat up straighter. Some started talking to their neighbors immediately before quieting down at a gesture from security.
"The participation requirements are as follows," the dean said, and the screen behind him changed to display a list:
MANDATORY PARTICIPATION:
- D4 Students: Required
- D3 Students: Required
- D2 Students: Required (exemption available for 60 CPP fee)
- D1 Students: Required (exemption available for 100 CPP fee)
OPTIONAL PARTICIPATION:
- C4 Students
- C3 Students
PROHIBITED FROM PARTICIPATION:
- C2 and above (except by special Academy Board approval)
Leon felt his stomach drop.
On screen, the D4 section was erupting. Students were standing, talking over each other, some shouting questions toward the stage. Security personnel moved along the aisles, trying to maintain order.
"But that's—" Nick stopped himself, jaw clenched. "Do you see what they've done? They've made it mandatory for the lowest ranks and optional for everyone else. The people with the least to lose get to choose, while the people barely surviving have to fight."
Leah said nothing, just watched the screen with an expression Leon couldn't quite read.
The dean waited for the noise to settle before continuing. "There is one alternative to mandatory participation: withdrawal from Valorian Academy. Students may choose to leave the institution entirely."
"However, the Academy Board wishes to convey a message to those considering withdrawal. Students who choose this path will face consequences. The specifics will not be detailed here, but given the Board members' backgrounds and global influence, prospective withdrawals are advised to consider their decision carefully."
The threat was clear even without specifics. The Board—composed of A1 and A2 students from extremely powerful families from around world—could make life difficult for anyone who tried to escape this way.
"So it's participate or face unknown punishment," Nick said quietly. "That's not a choice."
The dean was continuing. "The tournament will utilize the Cumulative Prestige Points system. All CPP changes during the tournament will be permanent and will affect your rank accordingly."
A new slide appeared, showing the basic CPP exchange rules:
BASE RULES:
- Win: +10 CPP
- Loss: -20 CPP
- Rank difference modifiers apply
"What are rank difference modifiers?" Noah asked quietly.
Alvin answered, his voice tight. "If you beat someone higher ranked than you, you get bonus CPP based on how many ranks separate you. But if you lose to someone lower ranked, you lose extra CPP."
"How much extra?"
"For winning up: 20 CPP per rank difference. For losing down: 10 CPP per rank difference."
Leon did the math quickly in his head. If he fought a D1 student and lost—three ranks difference—he'd lose 20 base plus 30 from the modifier. Fifty CPP total. If his starting CPP was around 70, two losses like that would put him at negative twenty.
Negative. In debt.
The dean was still talking. "Upon registration, thirty percent of your current CPP will be locked as your stake. This cannot be withdrawn. The tournament consists of multiple phases over eight weeks. Today, we will detail Phase One."
Eight weeks. Two entire months of this.
"Phase One: Survival Lottery," the dean said as the screen changed. "Participants will be divided into groups of one hundred and transported to isolated locations. You will have seven days to complete survival contracts and accumulate CPP."
Images appeared on screen—rocky islands, abandoned facilities, dense forests. The locations looked harsh. Dangerous.
"Contracts are ranked F through B, offering five to twenty-five CPP respectively. Students may also engage in direct competition. Theft of completed contracts is permitted."
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
"Permitted?" Noah's voice cracked slightly. "They're encouraging us to fight each other?"
"Each student will wear a tracking band displaying their current CPP, though not their identity," the dean continued. "You may hunt other participants based on their CPP signatures. Successfully stealing a completed contract will transfer that contract to you, and the victim will lose ten additional CPP."
On the conference room screen, the D4 section looked horrified. Students were talking frantically to each other, gesturing at the stage.
"The bottom thirty percent of each group by day seven will be automatically eliminated," the dean said. "Eliminated participants lose forty CPP immediately."
The auditorium erupted again. Forty CPP. For D4 students starting around 60-80 CPP, elimination would put most of them in debt instantly.
"Jesus," Nick said. "They're going to force kids to fight each other in the wilderness for a week."
Leah's hands were clenched in her lap, knuckles white.
The dean waited for the noise to die down before continuing. "Details of subsequent phases will be revealed as the tournament progresses. For now, we must address the consequences of negative CPP accumulation."
The screen changed to show a warning symbol in stark red.
NEGATIVE CPP CONSEQUENCES
"Students whose CPP drops below zero will enter Debt Status. This carries both personal and familial consequences."
A chart appeared, breaking down the tiers:
0 to -50 CPP: Mandatory labor service
-51 to -100 CPP: Privilege suspension, relocation to debt quarters
-101 to -200 CPP: Physical collateral status
Below -200 CPP: Expulsion + Family Asset Seizure
"Family asset seizure?" Noah's voice was barely a whisper.
The dean's tone remained clinical as he explained. The academy maintained detailed files on every student's family—bank accounts, properties, employment records, everything. When debt crossed certain thresholds, families would face consequences.
Tier 1: Ten percent of liquid assets seized. All scholarships revoked. Family members barred from academy-affiliated companies.
Tier 2: Thirty percent of total liquid assets. Property seizure of secondary homes and vehicles. Family members terminated from current positions. Credit ratings destroyed.
Tier 3: Sixty percent of total assets including primary residences. Families could become homeless. Complete blacklisting from major corporations. Siblings barred from prestigious institutions. Criminal records could be manufactured for family members.
Tier 4: Complete financial annihilation. All assets seized. Family members could be reassigned to forced labor positions. In extreme cases, declared academy wards—essentially becoming property that could be used as leverage.
The conference room had gone completely silent. Even Nick, who'd been commenting throughout, said nothing.
On screen, students in the auditorium were crying. Some were shouting again, voices breaking with panic.
"This is insane," Nick finally managed. "This isn't a tournament, it's—"
"Systematic destruction," Leah finished quietly. "They're not just redistributing CPP. They're weaponizing debt against entire families."
The dean was explaining the Mercy Clause now. Students in severe debt could accept Voluntary Servitude—a ten-year contract where they'd serve any command from C2 or higher students. No refusals. No rights. In exchange, family seizure would stop, though assets already taken wouldn't be returned.
"They're creating slaves," Nick said flatly.
The dean raised his voice over the renewed chaos. "Additionally, participants should be aware that the tournament carries inherent physical risks. In the mock tournaments before releasing this final version, though it was held in a secret & a much safer environment but still resulted in serious injuries. In rare cases, fatalities can occur. The academy will investigates all such incidents thoroughly and provide appropriate compensation to affected families."
The screen switched to video footage. What followed was brutal. A student's face, beaten and bloody. A family being forcibly removed from their home. A girl in tattered clothes serving drinks to higher-ranked students, bruises visible. News footage: "Valorian Academy Provides Support Following Training Incident." A memorial service, grieving family members. An empty classroom desk with flowers—another memorial.
The video ended. The lights came back up. The auditorium was dead silent now, shock having overwhelmed even panic.
The dean's voice was steady. "These consequences are real. These stakes are real. For mandatory participants, your options are participation or withdrawal with consequences. Registration opens tomorrow and closes in three days. Phase One begins in two weeks. Details of subsequent phases will be provided as the tournament progresses."
He paused. "May you find the strength to survive."
The assembly was dismissed. Students began filing out slowly, many still in shock.
In the conference room, no one spoke for a long moment.
Finally, Noah broke the silence. "We have to fight. We don't have a choice."
"No," Alvin said. "You don't."
Leah had her head in her hands. When she looked up, her eyes were wet. "I thought... based on the information I managed to gather, I expected the mandatory participation might be limited to D4 and D3. That C3 might be exempt." She looked at Leon and Noah. "That's why I asked Alvin to bring you both. I wanted assistance from lower D ranks who would be participants, to help investigate the intent behind this sudden rule change. I thought I'd be able to help. But this..."
"Would it have changed anything?" Nick asked bitterly. "The council approved this. What can we do?"
Leon sat back. Unable to think about anything at this moment.
He looked at the screen, still showing the auditorium emptying. Students moved like zombies, faces blank with shock.
Meanwhile, elsewhere.
The private island sat isolated in crystalline blue waters, accessible only by helicopter or private boat. At its center stood a building that looked more like modern art than corporate headquarters—all glass and steel angles, designed by architects who prioritized statement over practicality.
The interior matched the exterior's excess. Everything was pristine. The highest levels were restricted to essential personnel only.
Emilia walked down a corridor on the top floor, tablet in hand, reviewing the day's reports. She reached a set of double doors, pressed her palm to the biometric scanner, and entered.
Iris's private office occupied the entire western side of the building. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the ocean stretching to the horizon. The furniture was minimal but each piece probably cost more than most people made in a year. A desk dominated the center, covered in multiple screens displaying real-time data feeds from various regions of the world.
Iris sat behind the desk, reviewing something on a tablet. She didn't look up when Emilia entered.
"The Asian markets are stabilizing after yesterday's volatility," Emilia began, moving to stand across from the desk. "The European infrastructure project is ahead of schedule. The Middle Eastern negotiations concluded successfully—all parties signed this morning."
She continued through the list. Political developments, economic shifts, corporate acquisitions, diplomatic incidents—the daily machinery of running a global empire. Iris listened, occasionally making notes.
"That covers the primary items," Emilia finished. "There is one additional matter regarding—"
"If it's about Leon, I don't need updates."
Emilia paused.
Iris set down her tablet and looked up, her expression neutral. "I've fulfilled my obligation to his grandfather. Made sure he had support until he turned sixteen. Ensured his basic welfare and safety until he turns nineteen tomorrow. That promise is complete. I'm not interested in receiving information about him going forward."
"Understood." Emilia kept her voice professional. "I'll adjust the monitoring protocols accordingly."
"No." Iris returned her attention to the screens. "End the monitoring entirely. There's no point in collecting information I won't use."
Emilia hesitated for just a moment, then nodded. "As you wish, Lady Iris."