The City of Rakuen

As you all crowd onto the platform with your new and still bizarre mix of faces, expressions, clothing and wild theories, you are met by two girls and a boy. All three are in uniforms that would match if not for the colour differences - skirts and trousers, waistcoats, and light summer shirts that seem totally inappropriate for the thin layer of melting slush coating the station platform. Each has a beret with a crest - one girl's shows a sword, the other two have a shield.

At the first lull in the chatter, the shorter girl speaks up, her soft voice somehow cutting over you.

"Excuse me,"

She explains, in precise, quiet sentences, that the three of them are prefects, representing the two schools in Rakuen. Nanami of Fortitude, she says, placing a hand on her own collarbone, with her fellow prefect Lelouch, and Santana of Conquest, here pointing to the boy and the taller girl she's leaning against. The girl nods, looking fairly bored, whilst the boy doesn't appear to be paying much attention.

"We will be sorting you now. When we say your name, please move quickly and quietly to whoever called you."

"Yeah," Santana interrupts, "Then we can go back to the dorms. This'd better be the last lot we get in winter, seriously."

They separate, moving to stand several metres apart, and both girls pull a list from their waistcoat pocket. Alternating, they start to read out your names.

You're falling, and you can't remember why. It's a sickening feeling that makes your insides lurch; the darkness and the vertigo combine, and all you can think of is a story you heard once, somewhere.

I remember now. It's a simple story that everyone knows. A legend of a Princess, the Demon Lord who kidnapped her, and the Knight who fought to save her.

The Demon Lord had kidnapped the Princess countless times, but every time the Knight bested his challenges and rescued the Princess.

No matter what tricks and ploys the Demon Lord used, the Knight would always triumph in the end. This was because...

( A new voice intrudes )

Those of you who managed to survive the massacre stumble outside in twos and threes, leaving the bodies of your friends and family behind. Some of you remain behind, too injured or broken to move further. The campus is bathed in light, deep red and purple, with shifting clouds and a thin layer of mist curling around your ankles and across the paving stones. Just discernible over your harsh breathing is a low, dischordant hum. The air is resonating with it, as the towers around the campus glow the colour of a new bruise.

( Ahead of you... )

It's completely understandable if anyone got bored watching the broadcast of this battle. For anyone who's still paying attention, though, the video blanks out after Mei's forfeit, and the woman from the round change videos appears on-screen. And she's not happy.

"It looks like some of you are cheating," she comments. "You can play games with each other on your own time, okay? Exaclan is for battling! Just so you know, the warning penalty will let you know if you break any rules, and if it's bad enough you'll also be fined Tokens, whether you're a Player or a Weapon. So don't cheat, okay?"

She smiles, then. "That's all for now. See you next Round!"