Realization sank in — this wasn't just a game.
It was survival training.
And they were the prey.
"Rules," the instructor began, his tone firm but laced with amusement.
"Use of Ethos is allowed — but no abilities. Only reinforcement."
His eyes shifted to the five who'd beaten him earlier. "As for you five… you're not allowed to use even a drop of Ethos. Not for attacks, not for reinforcement. Nothing. Touching someone once qualifies as a catch. Once you're caught — you're out."
A wave of unease rippled through the class. The rules were simple — yet the weight behind them pressed like stone.
Instructor Leo's smile widened, the faintest spark of challenge in his eyes.
"You may all start running."
For a heartbeat, silence ruled the hall.
Then the dam broke.
Footsteps thundered in every direction, panic echoing off the reinforced walls. The secured training ground suddenly felt smaller, the open spaces suffocating.
Leo's grin lingered, sharp and unreadable — like a hunter watching the herd scatter.
"Let's see who can catch the most," Neto said, his lips curling into a grin.
And then he was gone.
The air split with motion.
Neto's dash blurred through the courtyard — his steps heavy, guided purely by instinct. Though his speed couldn't rival the instructor's, his raw physicality made him a blur among the rest. His eyes locked onto a student darting behind a pillar.
The boy barely had time to register the shift in air before Neto's shadow loomed over him.
A hand shot out — palm closing over his face.
'Too fast?'
A deafening thud followed.
The boy hit the ground, skull smacking against the concrete, limbs limp before he could even scream.
Neto froze.
He hadn't meant to hit that hard.
He didn't notice it before — not during the fight with Leo. None of them had. They'd needed to go all out just to keep up.
But now, against other students, Neto's greatest strength had become a hazard.
His instincts — the very thing that guided him in combat where memory failed him — didn't understand restraint. When he moved by instinct, he moved at full output.
And now, without Leo's unyielding presence to take his full force, nothing stood in his way.
His eyes widened as momentum dragged him forward.
"Shit—!"
He stumbled, boots scraping, friction screaming against the floor. He tried to twist, to stop — but it was too late.
His body hit the ground, ricocheting forward like a hurled boulder.
BAM!
He crashed back-first into the wall. Dust shook loose from the reinforced panels.
Silence.
Every head turned. Even Zuri and Danso froze mid-step.
For a moment, all they saw was Neto — sprawled against the wall, a faint haze of dust around him. The boy he'd caught lay motionless a few feet away.
Leo's calm expression didn't change, though his eyes sharpened.
"Continue," he ordered.
Neo glanced over at Neto, his voice low. "Seems the instincts he relies on have a flaw."
Zuri looked at the unconscious boy. "He's serious…"
"He'll be fine," Aniyah said quietly. "Don't worry too much."
Neto groaned, pushing himself off the wall. His knuckles were scraped, body trembling from residual force.
A shadow loomed over him — Neo, hand outstretched.
"Learn to limit your output. Strength without control is dangerous."
Neto took the hand, rising to his feet. "Thanks."
His gaze flicked to Leo — who met his eyes briefly. No anger. No disappointment. Just acknowledgment.
Neto exhaled, cracking his neck. He knew now — he couldn't just rely on instinct.
"Guess I overdid it. Can't leave it all to my body," he muttered.
Zuri crossed her arms. "Just don't kill the next one."
Neo smirked. "Bet I can get to them faster than you."
"I doubt that," Neto said, smiling faintly.
The hunt resumed.
But now, everyone understood — this wasn't a friendly exercise anymore.