The sun rose over New Vein City like a curtain lifting on opening night.

"Good morning Valoria!" Park Hyun-Jae’s voice boomed across millions of breakfast tables, his holographic image materializing in living rooms from Veridian Hills to the Outer Districts. "It’s tournament day at New Vein Academy, and if you’re not watching this, you’re officially the most boring person in the country!"

Sterling Weaver leaned forward on the news desk, his salt-and-pepper hair perfectly styled, his expression carrying the intensity of someone announcing the end of the world instead of a student competition.

"Seven years," he said. "Seven consecutive years of Argent Sentinel dominance. But this year? This year, the betting pools have shifted. For the first time in academy history, the Onyx Hounds are favored to take the crown."

Isaiah Foster pulled up the odds on his tablet. "Three-to-one on the Hounds. Five-to-one on the Sentinels. The Phantoms are sitting at eight-to-one, the Vipers at twelve, and the Strikers at twenty."

"And when we talk about the Hounds," Sterling said, his voice dropping to something almost reverent, "we’re really talking about one name. One face. One infuriatingly handsome problem child who has taken this academy by storm."

The screen cut to footage of Satori. Training clips. Gate runs. The Crucible duel with Reyna where lightning had bent to his will like he was the storm itself.

"Satori Nakano," Hyun-Jae announced. "The Stray Dog. The late bloomer who manifested at seventeen and somehow convinced half the academy’s elite prospects to follow him into the worst guild on campus. The boy who saved the President’s sister. The lunatic who killed an A-Rank Boss with a baseball bat. The heartthrob of New Vein."

"That last title is unofficial," Isaiah pointed out.

"The internet begs to differ." Hyun-Jae pulled up trending hashtags. "#StrayDogWatch is number one globally. #NakanoDaddy is trending in seventeen countries. There’s an entire subreddit dedicated to analyzing his training videos."

In a modest apartment in the Asahi District, Emi’s father Haruto sat with his morning coffee, watching the broadcast on the family’s old television.

"That’s the boy?" His wife Hanako peered over his shoulder at the screen. "The one our daughter keeps texting about?"

"Apparently."

"He’s very handsome."

"He’s very dangerous," Haruto corrected. "Look at his eyes. That’s not a boy playing hunter. That’s someone who’s already seen death and decided to spit in its face."

On screen, the footage showed Satori standing over a fallen Hydra, blood streaming from his nose, grinning like a maniac.

"Our daughter is in love with that?" Hanako sat down hard. "We’re going to be grandparents before we’re fifty."

"Don’t jinx it."

In the Presidential Tower, Seraphina stood at her window overlooking the city. The broadcast played on three separate screens behind her, each showing different angles of the tournament preparations.

Commander Graves stood at attention. "The surveillance teams are in position. We’ll have eyes on Nakano throughout the entire event."

"Good."

"The betting pools are interesting," Graves continued. "Professional bookies are favoring the Hounds by a significant margin. That never happens. Not against the Sentinels."

"People love an underdog story." Seraphina’s reflection in the glass showed nothing. "Especially when the underdog has that face."

"You don’t believe it’s just his appearance driving the popularity."

"I believe Satori Nakano is very good at making people believe in him. Whether that belief is justified remains to be seen."

The screen cut to footage of Celeste walking beside Satori through the academy grounds, both laughing at something only they could hear.

Seraphina’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Double the surveillance detail," she said. "I want to know every word he says to my sister. Every look. Every touch."

"Yes, Madame President."

In the Scarlet Phantoms dormitory, Diego sprawled across the couch eating cereal while watching the broadcast on the massive screen.

"They’re showing the kiss again," he announced to anyone listening.

Leo walked past without stopping. "Which kiss?"

"The one with the Princess. Celeste. From the medical bay footage."

Kira emerged from the hallway and paused to watch. The leaked clip showed Satori and Celeste sitting on a hospital bed, their hands intertwined, both laughing at something off-camera.

"That’s not the kiss everyone cares about," Kira said. "The kiss everyone cares about is the one with Natalia. The one where she basically announced to the entire academy that he’s hers."

"Multiple kisses," Diego observed. "Multiple girls. This guy is living every teenage boy’s fantasy while simultaneously making half the academy want to murder him."

Reyna appeared in the doorway, already dressed in her combat suit. "Are you three done gossiping like middle-schoolers?"

"Just appreciating the competition." Diego raised his bowl in mock salute. "Our fearless leader fought this guy to a stalemate. That makes him worth respecting."

"I’m going to beat him today," Reyna said flatly.

"Sure you are." Kira’s smile was sharp. "That’s why you’ve watched the Crucible footage eighty-three times."

"Eighty-four," Leo corrected.

Reyna flipped them both off and left.

On screen, the news anchors continued their analysis. Sterling pulled up social media posts, thousands of them scrolling past in a blur.

"The internet has chosen sides," he announced. "Team Stray Dog versus Team Sentinels. Team Underdog versus Team Legacy. And the most popular post of the morning is from someone asking the question that’s on everyone’s mind."

The screen displayed a viral post with forty-seven thousand likes.

how is satori nakano real? like genuinely. late bloomer. c-rank on paper. somehow has FIVE different girls (all 10/10s btw) orbiting him like moons. killed a literal tree god with a baseball bat. fought la sirena to a draw. and he STILL looks like he’s one bad day away from dropping out to sell cigarettes behind a 7-eleven. make it make sense.

The top reply had sixty thousand likes.

he can’t keep getting away with this.

In Graystone Park, in a tiny apartment that smelled like instant ramen and old regrets, Mrs. Tanaka sat with her husband, both of them staring at the television with tears in their eyes.

"That’s our Satori," she whispered. "Kimiko’s boy."

"He grew up." Mr. Tanaka wiped his eyes roughly. "The kid who used to get his lunch money stolen every week. Now look at him."

On screen, Satori walked beside Natalia through the academy grounds, both of them in combat gear, both moving with the confidence of people who’d survived hell together and come out the other side holding hands.

"Kimiko never gave up on him," Mrs. Tanaka said. "When everyone else said he’d never amount to anything, when the doctors said he’d never manifest, when he spent all those years being invisible. She believed."

"And now the whole country knows his name."

The broadcast cut to the arena, where thousands of spectators were already filing into their seats despite the tournament not starting for another three hours.

"The crowd is absolutely electric," Hyun-Jae narrated over sweeping shots of the gathering masses. "We’re expecting over twenty thousand people in attendance, with millions more watching from home. The Crucible Arena hasn’t seen numbers like this since the Finals five years ago when Veronica Cabana made her legendary debut."

"And speaking of legends," Sterling cut in, "let’s talk about the Onyx Hounds’ roster. Because this isn’t just Satori Nakano’s show. He’s surrounded himself with an absolutely terrifying collection of talent."