Diopha's awakening was brutal.
Not from pain.
Not from trauma.
But from silence.
A silence far too normal.
He opened his eyes sharply, staring at the ceiling of his dorm. Morning light filtered through the curtains—identical to any other day.
"…."
His first instinct was to sit up.
His body responded immediately.
Too well.
No heaviness.
No disorientation.
No fatigue, despite all he had endured.
His heart tightened.
—The dungeon…
Instinctively, he tried to summon a status window.
Then he froze.
A wall clock caught his eye.
07:42
His pupils contracted.
—"Shit."
The exam.
It was today.
The written portion started at exactly 08:00.
He didn't even have time to breathe.
—"Status Window—"
He stopped mid-command.
Not now.
A cold intuition sliced through his mind:
If I start looking… I won't stop.
And he'd be late.
He leapt from the bed, grabbed his jacket, opened the dorm door—
—"Artemis Mode."
No full transformation.
No excessive deployment.
Just enough.
His body synced instantly. The world slowed around him, distances contracted, and in the blink of an eye—
He was already in the main hallway.
Then on the stairs.
Then in front of the exam building.
07:59
He entered.
Examination Hall — Written Test
The atmosphere was heavy.
Hundreds of students, from every class, filled a massive circular hall. Silent runes floated above, preventing cheating, communication, or magical interference.
Milim sat a few rows ahead.
Douriel, a little further forward.
Neither turned.
Everyone knew speaking now would be useless.
An instructor spoke.
—"The written exam will assess your understanding of the real world of the Forerunners."
Screens lit up.
—"Portals." —"Monster Typologies." —"Reactions to unforeseen situations." —"Moral decisions under pressure."
The topics flowed.
Diopha read the first question.
Then the second.
Then the third.
—…That's it?
He answered without hesitation.
Not because he was superhuman.
But because these questions… he had already answered them in his mind, a thousand times, long before today.
Minutes passed.
Around him, some students sweated.
Others trembled.
Diopha set down his stylus.
He lifted his eyes.
—This won't decide anything for me.
Simulation Arena — Start of the Practical Test
Afternoon.
The central arena had been transformed.
Dozens of giant screens surrounded the zone, broadcasting the internal simulations live. Students from every class could observe.
—"Lower classes will begin."
Portals opened one by one.
Class E, D, then C students entered simulations tailored to their profiles.
Infested forests.
Unstable ruins.
Burning cities.
The fights weren't real.
But the sensations—the fear, the fatigue—were.
—"Reminder," an instructor announced.
—"The goal is not to defeat the simulation."
—"We are evaluating your adaptability." —"Your composure." —"Your perception of flaws."
Some failed immediately.
Others held their ground.
The screens showed everything.
Milim watched carefully, arms crossed.
Douriel analyzed every mistake, every decision.
Diopha remained silent.
Mini-Zenkai floated beside him, invisible to everyone else, sitting cross-legged in the air, looking casually distracted.
—"Hm." —"They reinforced the simulations' resistances."
He smiled.
—"Normal. They scanned the status windows beforehand."
Diopha frowned slightly.
—The scan…
He hadn't even thought about it since waking.
—"You'll see," Mini-Zenkai added.
—"When it's your turn."
—"They'll think they understand everything."
A screen displayed a powerful student failing despite high stats.
—"Because they look at the numbers." —"Not the essence."
Diopha said nothing.
His gaze stayed fixed on the arena.
The classes moved up progressively.
Soon, it would be their turn.
Soon, it would be his.
And somewhere, within the academy's systems…
An anomaly was waiting to appear.
To be continued…