The principal, who introduced themselves as Jane, was on the center stage. Her lion summon was back to its original size and stood between her legs, using her like a giant shade.

"There's been a few students arriving late, but at least they entered without causing a stir," she said, peering frankly toward Vin. "I heard about the race; it ended minutes ago, so justify why you're so out of breath and lou-"

"It's not over," Vin interrupted. Offended, Jane strutted to the stage edge. While initially friendly upon her introduction, she then appeared callous.

"It was over when third place crossed the finish," argued the woman. The little lion walked when she did and became cranky on her behalf—outstretching its fore and hindlegs while casting a hushed growl.

"A race isn't over until you finish or are eliminated," returned Vin, hints of aggravation bleeding into his tone.

The woman wore a short-sleeved graphic T-shirt that read "Eye of the tiger" and had an enlarged print of her fiery summon. Her exposed arm flexed when she raised it, and her toned arm bulged as she pointed down at the floor. "Come here," she bluntly commanded.

Vin followed her instruction, joining her on stage in front of the live and digital audience. He stopped three feet away from her, but she closed the remaining distance herself and matched his height. Her presence was surreal, almost visible, and viscous, like walking outside on a humid day. "What's your name," she said heatedly.

Vin's sharp eyes conveyed a firm resistance to the authoritative figure in front of him. He was slightly irked and answered simply, "Gavin."

"Even better, you're the fool that initiated a race 15 minutes before my assembly," noted Jane. She then called to a stagehand that brought her a thin tablet. "Gavin Dance JR, age 18, recruited by Hughie Dover. Class Z, current FX points 400."

The audience had an audible cringe when his funds were disclosed. Because of the meager number, he guessed the board he rented had 'somehow' broken.

Jane returned the screen to the helper, then retrieved a glossy black container. "You're as idiotic as they come," proclaimed the red-hair woman.

She withdrew an item from the receptacle, then pinned it to Vin's wrinkled and sweaty white shirt. After that, Jane leaned in and tightened his red necktie while continuing.

"Not bad."

"I was getting worried nothing exciting would happen during the opening ceremony."

Jane finished fitting him, pulling Vin's tie so hard it virtually cut off his circulation. She then pivoted to face the student body and the collection of cameras in the audience. "Many consider this university a playground for kids to run around and play with toys. There is plenty of expectation for it to fail."

"Whether it does or not isn't up to me. It's you all who decide the fate of this school."

Shifting again, Jane snapped her finger, and a large hologram screen appeared against the stage's back wall.

Her back was turned to the audience, but Vin was close enough to see her concealed and devious smirk.

The audience's eyes fixed on the screen, and a video clip rolled within seconds. It was live footage, a recap of the race Vin had just exited.

"Our marketing team released this video titled-"

"Spirited students competing in a 16-minute course, ONLY 15 minutes before their opening ceremony!"

"I admit the title is a bit click baity, but it's already received one billion views," announced Jane.

She gave the spectators time to relish in the remarkable feat. Even in a technologically oriented age, gaining that much attention in such a short amount of time was unprecedented. Vin watched the clip for a while but didn't see himself. The video mostly captured a fierce battle that took place at the front of the pack.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Jane's unshakeable grip latched onto and forcibly spun Vin's body toward the observers. "Our early success is all thanks to this remarkable girl here," smiled the woman.

"Girl?" Vin questioned, wondering if Jane was insulting him.

Boisterous, sincere applause erupted in the building. It startled Vin and frankly made him want to escape.

Spotlighted, he tilted his head toward Jane, then muttered. "That's enough, isn't it?" It wasn't poor nerves that deterred him, but the hollow gratification backed by frivolity.

"Credit where credit is due" was a phrase his father used often. And at that moment, Vin felt he'd done nothing to be honored. He was nameless; even in the video, he was nowhere to be seen.

With another snap, the footage was cut, and Jane grinned at the mass of people. "There's one more thing that's come out of this," she started.

The woman pointed to the badge she pinned to Vin's shirt and then proceeded to explain its significance. She called it a 'candidates badge.' Receiving one puts the student in the running to be knighted King/Queen of their primary sport.

There would be four candidates for each sporting world: Skate, Automotive, Winter Sports, Aerial, MMA, and Foot Racing. 24 in total, all indicated solely by the badge's owner.

Instead of paying entry points for events, candidates would bet their badges. If they lost a competition, they would forfeit their position to the winner.

It wasn't disclosed when, but eventually, all four candidates would come together and compete for the title of King/Queen of their sport.

In Vin's case, he was made a candidate for skate. But, it was only for his faction.

Jane explained that each color had its own set of competitions and royals. Vin only had to worry about fending against other dragon skaters because there would be a separate candidate system for the lions and sharks.

Naturally, the winners would benefit from a monthly allowance, publicity, and luxury living. All great, but Vin was keener about the kind of competition it would bring his way.

"Only four pins; I won't even have to create races; people will come to me."

Vin lifted his shirt to glimpse the small metal blessing bestowed on him. It was a simple icon of a red dragon, but it felt momentous to be the only one wearing it.

"It's still very early, so you'll have to hang onto it for some time," cautioned Jane. "Good luck to you."

With the hype concluded, Vin was allowed to take his seat in the crowd. The rest of the assembly was talk about expectations and congratulations to the students. Jane popped a bottle of champagne in front of thousands of underaged youths and shared a drink with her posse. Vin thought her quick demeanor change was absurd, like swapping from a ferocious lioness to a domesticated house kitten.

<>

The moment he was released, Vin fled the building before the masses could flood the gates. He sought his rented skateboard, which he found severely cracked across the surface and missing a wheel.

"Well..." He started, popping a squat behind a large column while hoards vacated the location. "This isn't the worst possible outcome," he said, withdrawing the borrowed, unscathed nanosphere.

"Then, there's this thing," added Vin, studying the badge on his uniform. "King of Skate, huh. Not a bad title. I wonder if dad saw the whole thing on the house TV."

"Don't get so full of yourself," interjected an outsider. The same youthful student whose silky hair was reluctantly patted by Vin.

They sat their rented board upside down on the ground so it wouldn't roll away, then leaned against the same column. "You ain't king of shit, but these," he said bitterly.

"These what?" Glared Vin, who stared gravely at the boy. Not on purpose; it was just his face.

A concerned wag of the student's head began their dissatisfaction, and they adverted their sights. "Nevermind. It's not funny when someone so intense answers."

They jolted off the mounted post, picked up their board, then frowned. "Hurry up and get a new ride so I can dust you again and take that badge."

Vin didn't get what was amusing, but he stood and straightened himself. "You're in the lion's faction, aren't you."

The stranger flexed their left brow, then hurled their yellow tie around their neck. "Yea, so what?" Sassed the boy.

"How would you become the lion king with a dragon's candidate badge," questioned Vin. Following this realization, the student skimmed from Vin's eyes to the red item on his chest. He peeked at it for less than a second before grimacing, then suddenly flaring. "You wanna fucking go?!"

"Busy," replied Vin, securing his broken board underneath his right arm and slapping the hand in his pocket. Before tucking his left hand away as well, he ruffled the boy's hair, then lectured. "Oh, and watch your mouth. Not everyone is going to let you talk to them like that."

After slapping Vin's hand away, the male stomped and steamed. "Stop touching my hair fuckface!"

Vin left quickly for the parked truck, where he returned his rented equipment. A lot had happened, so he wanted to give Miyo the run-down and take time to reevaluate his life choices. There was nothing he could do about the lost points, but there was room to capitalize off his new predicament.