The Student Council President.
A position reserved for students with the highest grades, strongest academic records, and exceptional leadership capabilities.
Students who held this title possessed authority that surpassed lecturers and, in some cases, rivaled the Chancellor himself.
They planned activities, enforced rules, created systems for their departments, and gathered regularly with the Chancellor to establish new policies for the university as a whole.
At the current meeting sat:
Marcel Stonner, Student Council President of the Science Department, alongside his vice president, Elanor Brook.
Ahmed Jubril, Student Council President of the Commercial Department, with his vice president, Elena Quake.
Zabi Foss, Student Council President of the Art Department, seated beside her vice president, Tiffany Hayes.
And at the head of the table sat the Chancellor of Vren Royal, Mr.
Loac Hayde.
All present to discuss and vote on a proposed new policy.
“What do you think about it, council?” the Chancellor asked calmly.
“I think it’s a marvelous idea,” Marcel replied immediately.
“Don’t you think?”
He turned toward his vice president.
“Yeah, I support it too,” Elanor agreed.
“It’s a terrible idea.”
The room shifted toward Zabi.
Being the oldest Student Council President came with its own perks, the biggest being respect from the Chancellor himself.
Zabi had held the position since her very first year, and now, in her final year, she still maintained her title.
Keeping such a streak alive was exhausting.
Unlike the others, whose councils had been changed and replaced over time, Zabi and Tiffany remained the oldest standing council in Vren Royal.
The rest had only held office for a maximum of two years, Ahmed included.
“Why do you think so?” the Chancellor asked.
“It disrupts the balance,” Zabi answered lazily, sounding bored as always, as though the answer should have been obvious.
“First, it creates unnecessary distractions between departments.
Second, it disrupts the flow of information within individual sectors.
Third, it’s easier to manage students when they remain separated and grounded within their own divisions rather than mixed together.”
“I disagree,” Marcel countered quickly.
“I think it’s a great idea.
It would make spreading information easier, connections would grow faster, and overall university life would improve.
A fun environment mixed with a strict academic structure is the perfect combination.”
Zabi did not even look at him.
The attention seeking loser was trying yet again to grab her attention, and frankly, it was pathetic.
Her gaze remained fixed on the wall, arms folded, expression unreadable and utterly uninterested.
“I agree with Zabi on this,” Elena spoke up.
“It’s better to keep things separated by departments.
It improves coordination and makes assigning responsibilities easier.”
Then she turned toward Ahmed.
“What do you think?”
Ahmed adjusted himself slightly before speaking.
“I support the idea of a mixed academia.”
“What?” Elena stared at him in disbelief.
“Let me explain,” Ahmed continued calmly.
“This project was originally proposed by Michael, the former Student Council President of the Art Department, long before my time here.
Meaning this proposal has been pending for years.”
He leaned forward slightly.
“And because of that proposal, the new building was constructed.
One massive building containing different departmental sectors within it.
Am I correct, Chancellor?”
“Yes,” the Chancellor confirmed.
“So technically, this isn’t some groundbreaking change,” Ahmed continued.
“Each department still remains within its designated sector.
The only major change is the cafeteria becoming shared.
Sports have always been mixed already.
Dormitories remain separated exactly as they always have.”
He shrugged lightly.
“That’s why I support it.
It isn’t drastic.
It’s simply an upgrade.
And honestly, a good one.”
“Thank you,” Marcel said with relief, clearly happy someone finally understood his perspective.
Then Marcel turned toward Zabi with a smug smile.
“This idea came from a former council president in your department.
Shouldn’t you be the first person supporting it?”
Zabi remained silent.
No reaction.
No glance.
Nothing.
“I support the idea,” Tiffany suddenly announced.
Zabi slowly side eyed her.
Tiffany burst into laughter.
“What?
I can see the bigger picture here.
It’ll be fun.
Come onnn.”
She poked Zabi’s arm playfully.
“Well,” the Chancellor interrupted, “everyone has given their opinions.
As always, the majority carries the vote.
State your final decisions.”
“I support,” Marcel answered immediately.
“I support,” Elanor followed.
“I disagree,” Elena said firmly.
“I support,” Ahmed added.
Silence filled the room.
The deciding votes now rested entirely with Zabi and Tiffany.
If both disagreed, it would end in a tie.
If one agreed, the proposal would pass.
“I support,” Tiffany declared confidently, completely ignoring the murderous glare Zabi sent her way.
“Yes!” Marcel exclaimed happily.
“”Zabi,” the Chancellor called calmly, “your vote.
We cannot conclude this meeting without it.
Even if the result is already obvious, your decision is still required to finalize the order.”
The room fell silent.
Five seconds passed.
Then ten.
Then fifteen.
Finally, Zabi spoke.
“I disagree.”