Six in the morning. An alarm shrieks through Dice's room. "Wha—!" He jolts awake. Black short hair sticks up everywhere. White shirt twisted. Burn scars line his arms—proof of yesterday's failed training. The sonar terminal beside his bed keeps blaring. A magical device. Looks like a smartphone. Soltiea particles circulate inside. Magic-responsive design. "Oh right. I can stop it with magic. Two birds, one stone." Dice raises both hands. Sleep still clings to his face, but his expression hardens. "'Sound-control magical wave, by my command, vanish.'" The chant breaks. Timing's off. Sleep and words don't sync. The magical circuit misreads. It receives the wrong command. The alarm gets louder. "BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!" "Wait, wait, hold on!" The wall shakes. Pounding from next door. "Shut up! What time do you think it is?!" "Sorry, sorry!" Dice grabs the terminal. Taps the screen. The sound stops. Deep breath. He pulls out his diary. Writes with a ballpoint pen. "Six a.m. Attempted magic alarm-stop. Result: total failure. Training progress: zero. Fix: chant tempo. Apology: bothered the neighbor." But his face isn't sad. "Whatever. Keep training." Dice opens an app. YouTube-like interface. Searches: "Fireball basics for beginners." A video appears. Title: "Master Fireballs in 10 Minutes! Beginner's Guide." On screen: a man. Cadenza-class. Several levels above Dice. Elegant. "First, the basic hand seal. Index and middle finger up." Dice mimics him. "'Fire spirit, gather at my fingertips, obey my will, become flame and burn my enemies to ash.'" Long chant. The video instructor keeps it short. Dice drags it out. The video keeps moving. "Next, your left hand forms this shape." "Wait, hold on." Dice pauses. He forms the shape with his left hand. Then— "Ow, ow!" The joint between his fingers cramps. Sharp pain. "Why now?!" He massages with his right hand. The burn scars ache as he moves. Minutes pass. Fingers finally loosen. "Okay. Again." He presses play. This time, calm. Slow chant. "'Fire spirit—'" Thirty seconds in. His eyelids grow heavy. "'—burn my enemies to—'" His voice cuts off. His head drops. Dice falls asleep. The terminal keeps playing. "First, the basic hand seal. Index and middle finger up." Five minutes pass. Ten. Fifteen. "'If your fireball won't appear: 1. Insufficient chant 2. Poor Soltiea particle flow 3. Weak mental focus'" Machine voice. Monotone explanation. Dice doesn't wake. "This concludes the lecture. Next: Ice Magic." The video ends. But— The recommendation feed auto-plays the next video. "'HILARIOUS Magic Fails! Beginner Mistakes!'" Screen fills with failure compilations. Explosion. Flame bursts. Boom. Pink light. Wrong element. Crackle. Lightning chant, but purple light instead of blue. And then— A scene. Someone chanting "'Fire spirit—'" while asleep. Voice becomes snoring halfway through. Title: "'Sleeping Guy Casts Magic [Mystery Phenomenon]'" The thumbnail shows— Black short hair. Eyes closed. Both hands forming fire seals. Exactly like Dice. Right now. On this bed. Dice's eyes snap open. "Ah." The video shows him. Definitely him. Someone pranked him. Posted it online. Comments flood the screen. "This kid shows up every week" "Beginner actually trying lol" "The snoring sound effect is perfect" "Fireball works but so does the snoring w" Merciless. "Who—who posted this?!" Dice closes the video. But the damage is done. One hundred thousand views. Deep breath. He writes in his diary. "Six-thirty a.m. Video training failed. Fell asleep thirty seconds into chant. Also discovered my failure scene is online. Want to die from embarrassment. But the fireball worked, so success? Fix: chant tempo and be less visible." But his face isn't defeated. Dice gets water. Walks to the back of his room. No kitchen. Four-and-a-half mats. One shelf on the wall. Pours water into a cup. Then— He looks at the shelf. One book sits there. Old. Cover torn. Brown stains on the spine—blood, maybe. Title: "Soltiea Particle Manipulation: Fundamentals" Soltiea particles. The world's magical essence. The smallest unit. Magic users manipulate them to create fire, ice. This theoretical text is so complex only advanced mages study it. This book belonged to Dice's father. He always thought he'd read it someday. But he never touched it. Dice sets down his cup. Reaches for the book slowly. Lowers it from the shelf. Holds it. Stares. Something moves inside him. Quiet. "...Okay." Just a whisper. His expression changes. Not childish anymore. Determined. Like he's decided something. Dice returns the book to the shelf. Picks up the terminal again. Drinks the water. Then— Suddenly, the screen explodes. "BOOM!!!" Orange and yellow fill the display. Text scrolls. "'BLAZE FESTIVAL' Magic Competition: Peak Level! Grand Prize: 500,000 Reeves! Three Months Until Start!" Explosion effects. Light storm. Cheering audio. A commercial floods Dice's room. Last year's champion. Cadenza-class mage. Beautiful magic. Flame becomes a dragon. Ice builds a castle. Light shines like a sun. "'Blaze Festival—your dream begins here.'" Dice's eyes gleam. Not childish anymore. Pure focus. "...This is it." He stands. "I'm entering." Points at the screen. Then— He stops. "...No one's watching. Embarrassing." Turns red. Closes the screen. But the light stays in his eyes. The commercial's final second— "'Registration Opens—Deadline Tomorrow!'" Dice doesn't miss it. "Tomorrow?!" Grabs the terminal. Countdown displays. "Twenty hours left." His heartbeat quickens. Twenty hours. No time. Registration needs paperwork. Novalis-class registration. Magical equipment registration. Application forms. Dice grabs a memo sheet from the floor. Scribbles: "Blaze Festival—Registration To-Do List" 1. Get application form from Sonar Bureau 2. Register magical equipment 3. Fill out form 4. Submit "Let's go." Dice pulls on a white shirt, black slacks, wraps a blue scarf loosely, and bolts from the room. Down the stairs. Clack clack clack. Shoes echo. Opens the apartment door. Steps outside. Morning sun hits his face. Toretta. The academy city. Center of Partiere—the city-state union. Seven autonomous cities gathered here. Toretta's the most prosperous. Population: 420,000. Twelve magic schools. Cadenza Magic Academy—where Dice studies—is one of them. Magical devices everywhere. Sonar terminals like smartphones. Vending machines powered by magic. Magitech company signs. Cantare Market—outdoor bazaar selling everything from food to spell components. And Blaze Colosseum. The festival venue. "...Let's go." Psyches himself up. The Sonar Bureau is in the academy district. Northwest direction. Runs. Cuts through alleys. Turns a corner— "Oh, magical equipment." Remembers. Registration requires it. Dice decides to go back. Spins around. Runs again. Back to the apartment. Bounds up the stairs. Opens the door. Opens the closet. Pulls out a gleaming sword. Not expensive. Novalis-class beginner's gear. Standard issue. But precious to Dice. "Okay." Grabs it. Runs again. Down the stairs. Out the door. Toward the Sonar Bureau. Northwest. Five minutes in— "Oh." Keys. Apartment keys. "Oh no no no no no." Holds his head. Left them at the training grounds. Yesterday night. Practiced near Faldine Forest. Left them there. "I'll go back." Runs the opposite direction. East. Training grounds are ten minutes away. Runs. Runs. Breathing hard, he reaches the dilapidated shack. Opens the door. Dark inside. Practice dummies scattered around. And in the corner— "Found it." Picks up the keys. "Okay, this time for real." Runs again. Back to the apartment. Puts keys in pocket. Then— Arrives at apartment. Opens door. Secures keys. Already fifteen minutes gone. "Hurry." Runs toward the Sonar Bureau again. Five minutes in— "Oh." Wallet. No wallet. Application fee: 200 Reeves. "Ugh." Runs back to the apartment. Opens door. Pulls wallet from under the bed. Pockets it. Runs. Toward the Sonar Bureau. Turns a corner. But— "Oh, sonar terminal." Still plugged in charging. Battery dies. "Argh!" Runs back again. Apartment. Room. Unplugs terminal. Pockets it. Runs. Toward the Sonar Bureau. A street vendor watches. "Running again, huh?" Regular at Cantare Market. Dice can't spare a glance. "Yes, sir!" Keeps running. Same route. Third trip. "You're back." The vendor looks exasperated. Dice blushes while running. Fourth trip— A different vendor cheers. "Go, young man!" "Thank you!" Keeps running. Fifth trip— As Dice sprints the same street, people start waving flags. "Go for it!" "Don't know what you're doing, but we're rooting for you!" "Flame-head, you got this!" Flags. Cardboard signs. Everyone in the area starts cheering. "Th-thank you!" Dice runs with tears almost forming. Finally. Application form—obtained. Magical equipment registered—done. Wallet—has it. Terminal—has it. Everything ready. Dice heads to the Sonar Bureau. But— Something falls from Dice's coat pocket. Jingle. The wallet. The one he grabbed first. Been in his pocket the whole time. Dice doesn't notice. Keeps running. Behind him, the vendor crowd laughs. Sonar Bureau entrance. Dice bursts through, breathless. The door's broken. Not automatic. Manual sliding door. Dice pushes hard. "You pull it." The receptionist lady pulls from inside. Dice keeps pushing. They have a mysterious strength contest. "Please release." "Oh, yes!" Dice stops pushing. The door slides open with a whoosh. "Thank you." Dice approaches the counter, breathing hard. Digital clock: 16:58. Two minutes left. "Blaze Festival registration!" Hands over the application and equipment form. The receptionist lady puts on glasses. Looks at the first page. "...This is last year's format." "Huh?" Dice's face goes pale. "It's fine. I'll give you this year's form. Five minutes and you'll make it." "Really?!" She hands him a new form. Dice writes frantically. Name. Age. School. Current magic rank. Why you're awesome. Scratch scratch scratch. Pen flies. Four minutes. Done. "Finished." Hands it over. She checks. Stamps it. Thud. Heavy sound. That stamp changed Dice's life. "Approved. Your Blaze Festival registration is confirmed." "Yes!" Dice pulls out his terminal. For some reason, a photo of his father's textbook appears. Took it yesterday. "Soltiea Particle Manipulation: Fundamentals" Old book. Brown stains. Dice stares at the image. Quietly— "I'm entering, Dad." In that moment, his expression becomes serious. Something wells up from deep inside. Not just a dream. Something deeper. But— "Beep beep beep beep." The terminal warns. Battery: 2% "Oh." "Forgot the charging cable again." Dice holds his head and groans. The receptionist lady smiles quietly. Walking home. Dice moves through Toretta's alleys. The vendor crowd gathers around him. "How'd it go?" "Success." Gives a thumbs up. Smiling. "Good for you." "Keep it up." Their voices follow him. Dice walks into the sunset. Orange sky. Street lamps glow. Magical light. His silhouette appears in that glow. Black short hair. Scarf fluttering. "...Blaze Festival." He whispers. What enemies wait? What rivals? Dice doesn't know. But that's okay. The story begins now. Dice's adventure starts here— Actually, tomorrow— Actually, when that tomorrow becomes today, when the story truly starts, Dice doesn't know yet. But one thing's certain. Dice never gives up. Falls a hundred times. Forgets a hundred times. Fails a hundred times— He stands. That's Dice's nature.