Got it. Here’s the continuation with the arrival at Zenith Week, capturing the anticipation, the atmosphere, and the reactions toward Class Zero — all in an anime-style, grounded and cinematic tone, just how you like it:
The sky over the Zenith Dome was dull gray, like the calm before something that wasn’t gonna stay calm for long.
Storm glass walls curved high into the air, layered with flickering holograms and names floating like legends carved into mist. Crowds filled the outer walkways, buzzing with chatter, cameras, and energy that tasted electric. Everything about it screamed event.
Lucian stood near the landing zone, coat brushing lightly against his legs in the breeze. Beside him, Evelyn stretched her arms behind her head, already scanning the scene like a predator trying to blend in. Reia was quiet as always, dark eyes flicking from corner to corner like she was memorizing exit points. Silas looked like he hadn’t slept. Vyn... didn’t even blink. Just kept walking like none of it mattered.
The shuttle door behind them closed with a hiss.
Class Zero had arrived.
And the crowd didn’t care.
They walked past groups of older students in matching uniforms—some from other branches of the Academy, some from rival schools like Obsidian Star or Moonveil Hall. Most were fourth years, battle-tested, tall, and confident. Some wore scars like fashion statements. Others had weapons on display, eyes sharp with arrogance.
The moment they saw the Class Zero crest, a few chuckles followed. One girl tilted her sunglasses down and whispered something to her group. A boy with platinum hair made an exaggerated stretch, then clapped slowly.
"Ah... the infants are here," he muttered. "How cute."
Lucian didn’t stop walking. Neither did Reia.
Evelyn gave him a small wave.
Silas tried to return a smirk but looked away fast.
Vyn didn’t even register the noise.
Inside the venue, the scale of the event hit harder.
Multiple levels coiled around a center stage like a coliseum from a future that never forgot its bloodstained roots. Massive screens hovered in the air, cycling through event schedules, participant names, faction sponsors, and promotional images of past winners.
There were press booths with glowing sigils, hunters in slick suits doing interviews, and security drones flying lazy circles overhead.
Then the screens changed again—
ZENITH WEEK – OFFICIAL START
Format: Survival, Duel, Team, Wildcard
Ranked Observation: ON
"Big stage," Evelyn muttered. "Wonder if the food stalls take credit."
"No stalling," Reia said.
"Let me dream, damn."
Lucian’s eyes flicked up to one of the screens.
There were names he didn’t recognize. But faces started to stand out. The big ones.
Arden Frost – the Sword Ghost of Everhart.
Klara Deneva – Storm Fang, last year’s highest-ranked duelist.
Mikael Taen – blunt trauma incarnate, ranked 3rd in the national hunter league under 25.
All fourth years. All deadly.
And all looking straight past them.
At the sponsor balcony, the real game players stood.
Echelon Industries. NovaCorp. Twin Helix. Old world names with new world weight.
Behind them were the Huntresses—each one known across multiple districts. Eliana Blaze, the Iron Tempest, stood in deep violet armor, her silver hair tied back like a blade about to be drawn. Near her was Myu Koji, one of the youngest to ever solo a Tier 8 gate. Her presence alone made heads turn.
Lucian’s eyes caught them just once, then looked away.
"We’re nothing to them right now," Reia said quietly beside him.
Lucian nodded. "Yet."
Behind them, Athena walked calmly into view, heels clicking against the polished stone, eyes forward, her coat swaying lightly with each step. She ignored the cameras. Ignored the chatter.
The announcer system echoed across the dome.
"Participants, make your way to the lower hold. Your badges and housing keys will be issued there. Welcome to Zenith Week."
Down in the lower hold, the atmosphere changed.
No crowd. No sponsors. Just participants and cold lights.
They lined up to get tagged. A drone floated by each one, scanned their vitals, stats, and abilities, then printed a dark band that locked around the wrist.
Lucian Black – Rank D – Class Zero
Unique Type: Confirmed
Observation Rating: 100%
The drone paused for a second longer on him than it did for the others.
"Looks like they’re watching us," Evelyn said, reading her own tag.
Silas glanced at his and frowned. "Only 68% for me. Rude."
Reia’s was 79%. Vyn didn’t even check hers. Just pocketed the card with her room number.
As they started moving toward their designated quarters, a group of students from another academy passed by. One of them stopped in front of Evelyn, eyeing her wristband.
"Class Zero?" he said, mock confused. "Didn’t realize the Academy was handing out invites like charity."
Evelyn tilted her head. "Didn’t realize fourth years still wore their daddy’s ego like a badge."
His smile froze a little. Then he scoffed and walked off.
Reia chuckled. Quiet. Dangerous.
"They don’t know you, Eve."
"They’ll learn," Evelyn muttered.
As they entered the housing corridor, the energy shifted. Students from other academies peeked out of their rooms. Some whispered. Some just watched.
There was no warm welcome here.
No one cared that they were first years.
No one cared how clean their executions were back in training.
This was Zenith Week.
And in this place, power spoke first, not reputation.
Lucian glanced down at his wrist again, then looked toward the end of the hallway.
The others were silent behind him, but he felt them.
Athena’s voice echoed faintly from the overhead system.
"All classes. Rest tonight. First stage begins tomorrow at 0900. Prep accordingly."
Lucian turned once, eyes drifting across the group.
No speeches. No prep talk.
Just quiet steps as each of them split into their assigned rooms.
Outside the arena, the sponsors watched closely.
"My money’s on Frost," one of the men from Echelon said, sipping his drink.
"That Black kid though..." Myu Koji murmured. "He doesn’t move like a first year."
Eliana Blaze didn’t say anything.
She just watched the footage replaying Lucian folding an Elite drone like paper.
Then leaned forward slightly.
"Let’s see what happens when the gloves come off."
Zenith Week had started.
And Class Zero had just entered the deep end.