Rank Assignment
Diamonganto Dormitory - Rank: Number 7
Your eyes scanned over the email, the words feeling surreal. You were placed in the Diamonganto dorm, meaning you would be surrounded by students specializing in business and law. That much made sense; after all, you had chosen a field that promised stability and financial success. But your rank—Number 7. What did that mean exactly? Was that good or bad? You had no reference point to compare it to.
Looking around, you noticed other students checking their phones as well. Some grinned with satisfaction, others scowled or sighed in frustration. A few, you realized, remained eerily calm, their faces unreadable.
“Ugh, Number 4? That’s so low! I’m fucked.”
“Hah! Face rank! Looks like my dad’s donation paid off.”
“Number 9. Could be worse, I guess.”
You frowned, piecing together the hierarchy. If students were reacting so strongly, then placement must mean more than just a number. But you had no time to dwell on it. You had to find your dorm.
Finding the Diamonganto dormitory was an experience in itself. Unlike the main buildings, which had a mix of old-world architecture with modern twists, Diamonganto was sleek, polished, and intimidating. Tall glass windows reflected the setting sun, and a grand double-door entrance stood guarded by more uniformed figures with armbands—this time with golden accents. Unlike the blue-banded ones from before, these individuals looked older, more refined.
Stepping inside, you were met with a dazzling interior. Polished marble floors, chandeliers, and velvet furniture—it looked more like a high-end hotel than a dorm. Some students were already lounging about, chatting in small groups or checking their emails again.
As you moved toward what you assumed was the reception desk, a voice called out.
“Oooo, a number.”
Turning, you saw a boy leaning lazily against one of the pillars, arms crossed. His uniform—though similar to yours—had subtle gold embroidery, a sharp contrast to your plain design. His smirk made your skin prickle.
You gave him a confused look. How was he able to tell?
Seeming like he could read your mind, he chuckled, “You’re walking around, confused and by yourself. Faces and Aces always have someone to guide them. Stuck up assholes.”
Before you could respond, another student approached—a girl this time, dressed in the same gold-accented uniform. She gave the boy a sharp look before addressing you. “Don’t listen to him. He enjoys messing with new students.”
The boy chuckled, putting his hands up defensively. “I said what I said..”
The girl sighed before turning her attention back to you. “I’m Amelia Kingsley, a Face of Diamonds. You’re a Number, right?”
You nodded, still unsure what that meant.
She gestured for you to follow her. “Come on, I’ll explain while I show you to your room.”
Walking through the halls of Diamonganto, Amelia explained the ranking system.
“The card-based ranking is what dictates everything at Elysium. Your privileges, your opportunities, and, unfortunately, your social standing. The hierarchy goes like this:
Aces are the highest—only four in the entire school. They mostly make up the Student Council. Then, there are the Faces—the Kings, Queens, and Jacks. They’re second only to Aces and hold significant power after them. There’s three per dorm, so 12 in all.”
You glanced at her. “So… you’re a Face?”
She nodded. “Jack of Diamonds. Meaning I oversee this dorm along with the King. The King and I manage student affairs here while the Queen decided to work for the Student Council..”
“What about Numbers?”
Amelia sighed. “Numbers are ranked from 2 to 10. They make up the majority of students. The higher your number, the better your standing. What’s your rank?”
“Um, mine said 7.”
“Not bad. Since you’re a 7, you’re in a relatively decent position. Not the best, but far from the worst.”
Your mind reeled from the information. The ranking wasn’t just decorative—it controlled the entire student body’s dynamics.
She continued, “Ranks aren’t permanent. You can challenge higher-ranked students for their spot. Win, and you move up. Lose, and you might drop lower.”
You absorbed this carefully. So, your Number 7 placement wasn’t necessarily fixed. You could climb. Or fall.
Reaching your assigned room, Amelia stopped. “This is you. Your roommate should be inside already.”
You took a breath and opened the door.
Inside, a student was sprawled on the bed closest to the window, lazily flipping through his phone. He barely acknowledged you at first, then glanced over.
“Oh. You must be my roommate.”
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m—”
He cut you off with a wave. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll learn each other’s names eventually.”
Something about his attitude made you wary. His uniform had a few gold accents, representing his dorm.
“Anyway,” he yawned, stretching. “Welcome to Diamonganto. Hope you survive.”
You frowned. “Survive?”
He smirked. “You’ll see soon enough.”
Later that night, as you settled in, you scrolled through your school email again, searching for more details about the ranking system. You found a handbook attachment, detailing school policies and the rank system in greater depth.
Aces: The elite four, practically royalty. Each represents a suit—Hearts, Spades, Clubs, and Diamonds. They hold supreme authority. Faces: The three representatives of each dorm—King, Queen, and Jack. They manage internal dorm affairs and are just below the Aces. Numbers: The majority, ranked 2-10. The higher your number, the closer you are to potential Face rank.
The handbook also mentioned "Challenges," formal duels where students could attempt to take another’s rank. These weren’t limited to academics—physical challenges, strategic games, and even social tests were valid methods of proving superiority.
You exhaled. It wasn’t enough to just exist at Elysium—you had to fight for your place.
A knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts. Opening it, you found Amelia standing there with a small smile.
“Hey! Sorry to bug you, but I just wanted to check on you. I know this can be a lot to handle right off the bat.”
You give her a small smile. “I’ll be fine. It’s a lot, but I’ll adapt.”
"I forgot to mention," she said. "Tomorrow, there’s an orientation for all Numbers. You’ll get a better idea of how things work here. And… you might want to pay extra attention."
You raised a brow. "Why?"
She hesitated before saying, "Let’s just say not everyone keeps their rank without a fight."
As she walked away, a sense of unease settled over you. EIU wasn’t just about studying—it was a battleground. And you were right in the middle of it.