At the gates of U.A. High School, students gathered in clusters, their breath fogging the air as they sized each other up. Some wore sporty gear. Others had support items strapped to their backs. A few looked like they’d rolled out of bed and sprinted here.

Among them, you stood.

The gate loomed—a monument of steel and glass, carved with the emblem of the school that had produced the world’s greatest heroes.

A voice cut through the chatter.