The Chart App has four categories: Academic, Sports, Arts, and Non-Dominant. It doesn't just show who's smarter or stronger—it decides who gets to stand tall and who gets stepped on. Our grades? They're not just numbers. They're our status. Our worth. Our place in this glorified zoo.
Then there's the Ludus Floor Plan App. A map of the entire school, from the basement where rumors rot, all the way up to the top floors where no one dares to climb without a reason. It includes the garden, track and field, dorms, gymnasium—all the usual places you either run through or hide in.
And of course, the Ludus Class App. Every textbook, every quiz, every test. All neatly packed in. You could study three years ahead if you wanted. Assuming you have the time. Assuming you won't die first.
These apps came with the tablet we were given—supposedly tools for education. But the truth is, only one app matters.
The Chart. Because in Ludus, it's not about learning. It's about surviving status. One seeks truth through intellect, another seeks meaning through emotion, and the third, glory through action, and in the end, they don't just rival each other. They end up fighting themselves.
Anyway, back to now. I'm being dragged to the principal's office. Present day, present time.
Did you miss me? Did you think I'd be one of those bad boys? Shit, if I was, I wouldn't be the one on top of that chart.
Anyway, my heart pounded fast as I stared at the large screen before me, my knees on the floor, my eyes widened.
The screen was filled with white light as a voice spoke to me--shit, it was loud… yet calm, weird ahh voice. I looked like a prisoner waiting for judgment. No angel. No savior. Just that damn white light.
"You're quite a troublesome student, aren't you?" It said to me. Seriously, I only threw a few punches at him, not my fault his nose easily bleeds.
"He started it!" I talked back; I'm slaying this role.
The voice didn't respond; instead, it showed me six… no, seven…? Shit, it's--hold on, let me count this shit.
One, two, three, four… ELEVEN?
A bead of sweat ran down my temple as I gazed at the six videotapes of me and Dan throwing punches at each other. We looked kinda stupid. And five more of when we sabotaged each other.
Then, it switched to the chart. I fucking hate the chart.
"You, as the leading student of the academic field, are responsible for its reputation." The more it spoke to me, its calming voice began to get louder, as if the universe itself was talking to me, making my heart race like crazy.
"I see…" My voice almost cracked, but I kept my head high. Am I being watched right now?
"If you do, then keep your head low and keep your eyes on the books, nerd." This fricking bitch… This AI is more intelligent than me AND IT CALLED A NERD?! A NERD?
"I'll keep it in mind, sir." That's right, I'm assuming your gender, be offended.
Being in that room was like being shown the gambler's tricks.
Fast forward--Dan and I 'worked it out'. And now, it's time for Jazzi and Blanche to throw paint at each other. Can't wait.