The city of Veon Prime was a marvel of steel, glass, and endless light. Massive skyscrapers pierced through mist-heavy clouds, their tops blinking with neon signals while aerial traffic buzzed along invisible roads. It was the kind of place that made you feel small, no matter how strong you thought you were.
Oliver stood on the edge of the military complex's balcony, overlooking the city. From here, the Preliminaries Arena was just a glowing oval in the distance, like a beast's eye watching them sleep.
He hadn't slept well.
The system had gone quiet again. It still lingered in the back of his mind, waiting, observing, assessing. It whispered now and then, a word here, a phrase there—just enough to remind him it hadn't left. But it hadn't helped, either.
Awaiting threat calibration. Tournament setting accepted. Initiation pending.
He'd memorized the phrase by now.
"Still brooding?" Lira asked, stepping beside him. She wore her usual training vest, combat boots unlaced. Her black hair was tied into a high ponytail, that signature maroon streak cutting through like war paint.
Oliver didn't answer at first. He took a breath and let the cold air fill his lungs. "Focused," he said at last.
"That's not what focused looks like. You've got that 'about to get vaporized by a sniper drone' expression." She leaned on the railing. "Want to spar? Might burn off the tension."
"Not tonight."
She clicked her tongue. "You're no fun."
Inside, the rest of the squad had mostly settled in. Garek sat on the couch, polishing the reinforced plates of his gauntlets like they were antiques. He glanced up briefly, grunted, and kept working.
Aria sat cross-legged by the window, eyes closed in meditation. Her silver-white hair caught the light, the soft strands shimmering with each breath she took. Her face was calm, more peaceful than Oliver had ever seen it. Still, something about her made him uneasy—not in a threatening way, but in a way he couldn't quite define.
She hadn't been the same since they landed. Her sarcasm had cooled. Her glances lingered. And twice now, he'd caught her watching him when she thought he wasn't looking.
But they couldn't afford distractions.
The system remained a secret. No one could know. Not even her.
Later, they walked through Veon Prime together. Deros had given them the evening off, citing the need for rest before the chaos of the preliminaries. None of them argued. The streets pulsed with color. Holographic performers danced on street corners while vendors shouted over the buzz of hovercars.
Lira snatched a skewer of something hot and steaming, took a bite, and groaned in delight. "Gods, I missed real food."
"I'm pretty sure that's lab-grown spider meat," Garek said, eyeing the meat with suspicion.
"Still better than ration bars."
Oliver stayed a few steps behind, observing them more than speaking. Aria walked beside him, quiet. For a while, the only sound between them was the distant hum of the city.
"You've changed," she said suddenly.
"So have you."
She looked at him, her silver eyes unreadable. "Not sure that's a good thing."
He opened his mouth to say something, but she'd already moved ahead to join the others.
The next morning came fast. Their transport dropped them off at the tournament complex, a behemoth of reinforced alloy and shimmering tech. Inside, cadets from every Earth sector lined the corridors—hundreds of them, all in matching uniforms with different regional patches.
Oliver's squad stood out only by proximity. No one spoke. The tension was thick enough to slice with a blade.
A large holo-screen displayed the opening brackets, shifting every few seconds as names locked in.
Match 3: Earth Military Squad B-4 (Vale, Lira, Garek, Aria) vs. Orion Combat Institute — Nova Class.
"Nova Class?" Lira muttered. "Are they serious?"
"They're top five," Aria said, folding her arms. "Fast. Coordinated. Energy-based combat techniques."
"Perfect," Garek growled. "I've been waiting to break some fancy faces."
Oliver didn't speak. He kept his eyes on the screen, heart calm, breath slow.
System. Are you watching?
Combat synchronization: 95%. Evolution protocol locked until danger threshold surpassed.
So be it. He'd give it what it wanted.
Above the arena, Captain Deros stood in the observation deck, arms folded. His eyes never left the names flashing on the screen.
"That boy," one officer murmured. "Vale. You think he's the one?"
"I don't think," Deros said. "I know. Watch him closely. Encrypt everything."
Back on the ground floor, match one began. Two squads entered. The crowd roared as energy blasts cracked through the air. Oliver watched, studying their movements, predicting weaknesses.
The fights were fast. Brutal. A med-drone evacuated someone with a broken spine before the second bell.
They weren't here to play games.
Match two ended in under six minutes.
The announcer's voice boomed overhead.
Match three. Prepare for deployment.
The corridor went quiet.
Oliver glanced at his squad. Garek rotated his shoulders, cracking his neck. Lira pulled her gloves tighter. Aria held his gaze for a heartbeat longer than she should have.
"Remember the plan," Oliver said quietly. "Keep it tight. Wait for them to overextend."
"Don't try to protect us, Vale," Aria said, voice low. "We're fighting with you. Not behind you."
Then the gates opened.
They stepped into the arena.
Cheers roared. Drones hovered above, streaming footage to billions. The ground pulsed beneath their feet—vibrations from the combat grid activating.
Across the field, the Orion squad entered. Four figures. Sleek silver armor. One of them, a red-eyed youth with dual energy whips, stepped forward and grinned.
He raised a hand and drew a finger across his throat.
Oliver didn't blink.
Warning: Combat threat level 6.2 detected.
System unlocking core module access.
He smiled. Finally.