The main hall was vast, designed for impact. Smooth marble floors stretched beneath the gathered students, the Academy’s crest inlaid at the centre, a silent declaration of purpose. High, arched windows let in the gold-tinged light of the setting sun, casting long shadows over the waiting figures. A hush had settled, the kind that falls when people sense something larger than themselves.
Then Dr. Helena Vermeer stepped forward.
She was tall, sharply elegant, and moved with the same poise her face wore: studied, unbreakable. Her silver-streaked hair was drawn into a flawless bun, and her dark eyes scanned the gathered students with a quiet certainty.
When she spoke, her voice was calm, level—every word deliberate, measured, settling over them like an inevitability.
“Welcome to Phoenix Academy,” she said. “I am Dr. Helena Vermeer, Chief Administrator.”
A pause, to let the name settle.
The Chief Administrator. She was the highest-ranking figure in the Academy—the woman who ran this place, who held their futures in her hands.
“Many of you believe you know what this place is,” she continued. “Some of you may even believe you understand why you are here.”
The silence deepened. No one dared to move.
“You do not.
“You have passed the threshold. For many of you, the hardest part is already over. You made it here.” A pause. “Now, all that remains is to become the person you were meant to be.”
Eve shifted on her feet, her bag still slung over her shoulder. This felt… surreal. After everything—the exams, the waiting, the ridiculous, nerve-wracking submarine trip—she was finally here. It didn’t feel like triumph. Just pressure, condensed into the space between her ribs.
She’d expected relief. Instead: a tight coil in her gut, restless and sharp. She didn’t belong here. Not really.
She set her jaw. She had clawed her way up to this place. She wasn’t about to let anyone take it from her.
The Chief Administrator’s eyes flicked over the crowd. “Special congratulations to our scholarship students. You passed the hardest entrance exams in the world. You earned your place here, not through birth, but through sheer excellence. From now on, your success is assured. Do the work, and you will thrive, not just survive.”
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Maya glanced at the other scholarship students—some straightened, pride and nerves flickering across their faces.
She liked the phrasing. Thrive, not just survive.
It sounded good. If it was true.
The words sent a shiver down her spine. Nothing in life was assured.
She folded her arms across her chest, face unreadable.
“But,” Vermeer continued, her gaze shifting, “to those of you who are paying students—you are not here just because of privilege, just because of money. You, too, have been tested. You are here to learn, to grow, to become more than what you were before. You did not simply buy your way in. You were chosen.”
Sophie’s lips twitched.
That was a nice way of putting it.
Sure, they hadn’t just paid their way in—but let’s be honest, money helped. She could feel the tension from some of the wealthier girls around her, a few bristling at the implication that they weren’t special enough to coast.
Good.
Let them squirm. She knew exactly what this school was. And she had no intention of being just another girl with a trust fund. Phoenix taught power, and she was here to learn.
“Phoenix is not an institution,” the Chief Administrator continued. “It is a way of life. These five years will define you: the way you lead, the way you think, the way you survive.”
Her expression sharpened slightly. “And the first step in that journey begins now.”
The air tightened with expectation.
“You are about to meet the most important person in your life: your roommate.”
A shuffle of feet. Someone coughed.
Lila swallowed hard.
Most important person in her life?
She knew what they were doing. Setting the tone. But it was getting to her anyway.
She needed to believe it. Because if she didn’t—if the system was wrong—what did that mean for her?
Her father’s voice surfaced. You are only as strong as the company you keep.
What if her roommate hated her?
What if she was… cruel?
The thought curled in her chest and wouldn’t let go.
Then she straightened her spine.
New start, new start, new start.
It would work out. It had to.
The Chief Administrator’s gaze hardened. “This is not a small thing. You have been carefully profiled, matched with the person who will test you, support you, sharpen you into something stronger than you were alone. Your success here, more than anything else, will depend on your ability to trust.”
A brief pause. Then, slower, deliberate:
“Trust your roommate. Trust your advisor. And most importantly…”
She let the words sink in.
“Trust the system.”
Silence. Heavy as stone.
A breath, a stir—someone shifted their weight.
Eve scoffed.
Trust the system? Right. That was how you got eaten alive.
The system had never done shit for her before.
She wasn’t here to trust. She was here to learn when to nod, and when to tear the rules apart.
“You will face challenges,” Vermeer said, softer now, but still unflinching. “There will be moments of doubt, of failure, of hardship. You will struggle.”
Another pause.
“And that is good.”
Some of the students looked startled. Others frowned.
“You belong here,” she said at last. The words had the weight of a command. “And Phoenix will support you. In your hardest moments, in your greatest triumphs. You will make it. Together, we can change the world.”
A hush. No breath, no movement.
She gave a final nod. “Welcome home.”
And with that, Phoenix Academy’s newest class stepped forward to meet their fate.
