On Earth, power isn't just a gift, it's a must in society. Roughly ten percent of the population holds superhuman abilities. These aren't just people with cheap tricks they are strong individuals fueled by radical ideologies. Some strive for eternal peace, while others dream only of complete destruction.
To keep the world from tearing itself apart, society moved the "Gifted" individuals into specialized schools, segregated from the average citizen. But even within these walls, there is no unity. Every institution is a battlefield of conflicting visions on how a powered human should be raised.
"You have no other choice," the old man said, his voice as stiff as his iron-gray mustache. "Your son must be enrolled in Scuola Phobia."
He braced himself, leaning back in his chair as if expecting a physical blow. He didn't have to wait long.
"Scuola Phobia?" The woman's voice trembled before it exploded. "You might as well take my son to the nearest graveyard and be done with it!"
BANG!
She slammed her fists onto the desk, the wood groaning under her fury. The government official didn't flinch, though his eyes softened with a flicker of pity.
"I understand your anger, Ma'am. Truly. But we are out of options," he countered firmly.
"Your son has been flagged as a power user. We've sent his files to every academy on the continent. Not a single one wants to take him. His power is a total vacuum, completely unknown, unclassifiable, and untested."
Scuola Phobia. The School of Fear. It was the government's dumping ground a place that always had a vacant seat for the "problems" society didn't know how to solve. It was a destination reserved for those with a terrible destiny.
"It's a first for us, too," the man continued, glancing at the boy sitting silently in the corner. "Usually, there's a spark, a glow, a change in heart rate. But with him? Nothing. He hasn't displayed a single trait, yet the scanners insist he's one of them."
The boy didn't look up. He kept his eyes locked on a single crack in the floorboards, trying to numb his mind. If he let himself think about where he was going, he'd lose his grip entirely. He was praying for a miracle
"Little boy."
The official leaned forward, trying to catch the lad's gaze. "I won't lie to you. It will not be easy. But I give you my word. I will do everything in my power to support you during your time there."
The boy didn't believe a word of it. He knew the rumors. He knew what happened to the "exceptions" who were sent to fill the vacant seats at Scuola Phobia. It wasn't a fairy tale waiting for him. It was a nightmare.