The sparring field at Blackridge Academy was alive with brutality.
Boots thudded against reinforced metal, energy batons clashed, and the occasional grunt or yell echoed off the titanium-lined walls of Training Dome C. It wasn't just another drill. This was ranking week. And everyone wanted blood.
Oliver Vale stood at the edge of the main arena platform—Zone 4—his arms folded, body relaxed, face unreadable. The early sun filtered in through the polarized dome panels, casting angled shadows that danced across his combat gear. He wasn't the biggest cadet on the field—not even close—but there was something about the way he stood. Balanced. Quiet. Like a predator waiting to move.
The whispering started again.
"That's him. The guy who took down Burke last week in three moves."
"I heard he doesn't even use energy surges. Just raw technique."
"Doubt it. His combat tier was never even listed. Probably a ghost file."
Instructor Merrin barked from the center platform, cutting through the noise. "Next! Zone 4. Vale vs. Halvors. Initiate on my mark."
A ripple of excitement ran through the observing cadets.
Cade Halvors—tall, broad, blond, and a known bully with a record of borderline-lethal sparring injuries—cracked his knuckles and stepped forward. His smile was all teeth.
"You ready, mystery boy?" he sneered. "Let's see if you can still play cool after I rearrange your ribs."
Oliver said nothing. His gray eyes met Cade's for only a second—and Cade's smile faltered.
Merrin raised his hand. "Begin."
Cade charged like a hammer—no hesitation, no strategy, just overwhelming force. It worked against most cadets. He was a Tier C brute, known for breaking shields with sheer momentum.
But Oliver was gone before the strike landed.
He sidestepped like smoke and used Cade's own weight to twist him off balance. The bigger cadet stumbled. Oliver rotated, delivered a sharp elbow to Cade's floating rib, and then spun low—
Crack.
A sweep kick took Cade's legs clean out. He hit the ground hard and rolled back with a curse, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Lucky shot," Cade growled, getting up.
The second charge was faster. Wilder. But it didn't matter.
Oliver ducked under a wild punch, grabbed Cade's outstretched arm, and snapped it into a joint lock mid-motion. Cade screamed.
Merrin's voice was sharp. "Enough!"
But Oliver didn't let go immediately. He stared into Cade's eyes—calm, unreadable—and then released him. Cade collapsed, gasping, clutching his shoulder.
The silence was deafening.
Merrin narrowed his eyes. "You've trained before."
Oliver gave a quiet nod. "My father taught me."
Someone whispered from the sidelines. "His dad was that Empire scout, right? Died on that off-world op?"
Merrin glanced at the stunned observers, then at Oliver. "Take him to the med pod. Vale, you're dismissed."
Later – StatSync Node Chamber
A dozen cadets lined up for scan evaluations. Oliver waited quietly, still breathing steadily from the fight. Every movement was economical. Controlled.
A tech engineer sat in a plexiglass booth, barely paying attention as he gestured for the next cadet.
"Vale, you're up."
Oliver stepped into the circle. The StatSync Node glowed blue as it activated. Invisible rays swept across his body, analyzing reaction speed, neural activity, stamina cores, and latent energy channels.
The system in his mind stirred instantly.
❖ Unrecognized scan pattern detected.❖ Activating stealth sublayer.❖ Output falsification in progress...
The scanner blinked red.
❖ ERROR.❖ Subject profile corrupted.❖ Unable to determine tier. Reverting…
The technician tapped the console. "What the hell?"
The screen finally displayed:
Subject: Oliver ValeEnergy Tier: D-Condition: AveragePotential: Low-Mid
Merrin, watching from the upper deck, frowned.
"That's… not right."
A murmur ran through the line.
"D-Tier? After that fight?""This machine's busted.""Or maybe Vale's juicing. Illegally."
Cade—now wearing a shoulder brace—snorted. "Figures. Probably just a one-trick punk. That scanner doesn't lie."
Oliver turned slightly. His gaze met Cade's. No anger. Just something colder.
Pity.
❖ System: False status successfully uploaded. Cloaking remains intact.❖ Suggestion: Maintain profile. Continue low-tier camouflage.
"Fine," Merrin muttered. "Log him as D-Tier."
The technician shrugged. "If the system says he's weak, he's weak."
But as Oliver walked out of the chamber, Merrin's eyes lingered on him.
"He's lying," Merrin thought. "Or something is."
That Night – Dorm Pod 117A
Oliver sat on his cot, watching the stars shift outside the viewing panel. His mother's voice echoed in his head again, a memory from years ago:
"Keep your strength quiet, Ollie. Not everyone wants to see you rise."
He took a breath.
The System's voice chimed in his mind—calmer this time.
❖ You performed well. Emotional discipline maintained.❖ Internal power reserve rising: 14%.❖ Milestone approaching.❖ Initiate core evolution within 10 days.
"Why now?" he whispered. "Why me?"
❖ Because my last bearer fell. And you… are compatible.
Oliver clenched his fists.
"Then we better make it count."