The twilight veil of the Trial Grounds shimmered with nascent light. Though the celestial spheres above had not shifted, an unseen tension coiled in the air like a drawn bowstring. Teams had been formed, trial zones designated, and strategic maps conjured in holographic layers atop floating discs. It was the calm before the storm, yet no one present truly felt calm.
Dawn stood still, hands behind his back, eyes closed. Beside him stood Gary and Ingrid—his companions, allies, and comrades in quiet defiance of the unknown. All three bore the faint glimmer of activated Celestial Marks, but only Dawn's presence caused the surrounding fabric of reality to waver slightly, as though unsure whether to embrace or reject him.
Their team had been assigned to Point Zenith, a floating island that remained just slightly higher than all others. That alone was not coincidence. The Primordial Academy always watched, always tested.
Below them, the Grand Instructor floated lazily, lying sideways on what seemed like a tea-serving cloud. A cup hovered in the air beside him, unsipped. His eyes, however, were keen.
"So... storm or silence?" he muttered under his breath, taking in all the teams.
The competitors gathered on their respective platforms. Cedric, in another team, cracked his knuckles, his Mountain Spine mark activating with a thrum of power. He shared a brief glance with Gary across the air—competitive, but respectful. Behind Cedric stood his team of rugged specialists, all belonging to the Titan Path. Their presence was like a wall of muscle and stone.
Then, the real tremor arrived—not of stone or spell, but of presence.
A radiant vessel descended through layers of golden clouds. It wasn't just any vessel, but a Celestial Pavilion-Ship, a vessel that had once drifted among astral highways long before the Academy had a name.
As it drew closer, the atmosphere shifted. All who stood on platforms, instructors included, turned their eyes toward it.
The vessel opened mid-air, revealing a shining stair of prismatic energy. From it stepped out Princess Luna, her silver hair caught in the ever-glow, her violet eyes calm as moonlit pools.
She descended slowly, not out of grandeur but because she didn't need to hurry. Grace and inevitability clung to her.
"Princess Luna..." several students whispered.
"She's participating again this year?"
"But wasn't she recovering after the last Celestial Bonding?"
"She's not just recovering—she's stronger now."
Gary looked to Dawn. "She'll be assigned to a different trial zone, right?"
Dawn didn't answer. His eyes were locked on her, but not in awe. There was only quiet acknowledgment.
Princess Luna's gaze passed over the teams, pausing for a brief moment when it landed on Dawn. She did not smile, but her eyes glimmered faintly, and then she passed on. If anyone noticed that fleeting pause, they didn't dare speak of it.
The Grand Instructor floated higher now, arms spread as dozens of smaller, orb-like Celestial Vessels arrived, carrying dignitaries, researchers, archivists, and Prime Lords. All came to witness what the next generation would become.
He spoke, voice clear, amplified not through sound, but intent:
> "The Celestial Accord is not a war. It is a revelation. A field where the sky itself watches. You may compete, but never forget—you are building your marks, not destroying your peers."
With a wave of his hand, several trial zones began to glow. Among them, Point Zenith, Cradle of Flame, Obsidian Shardfold, and the Labyrinth of Skyglass—each with its own horrors and tests.
And then—
> "Begin."
Teams were pulled away by beams of gentle light, ferried across the floating realms to their respective zones.
As Dawn, Gary, and Ingrid vanished into the shifting ether toward Point Zenith, Dawn opened his eyes at last.
He had already begun to simulate the battlefield, already begun to predict not just the terrain—but the emotions, the hesitations, the clash of ideologies that would unfold.
This wasn't about securing a zone.
It was about showing the sky that they were ready to be seen.
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