When the pod opened, my ears were still ringing. The cold air hit my lungs hard. It was real air, thinner than in the simulated world. My arms feel heavy, and my body aches like time has punched me. I blink through the low lights. The ceiling here doesn't move—no flickering trees, no distorted sun.
It was just sterile white. And voices, lots of voices. Other students were climbing out, coughing, and leaning on walls. Their eyes were wide, like they'd forgotten what flesh feels like. I swung my legs out of the pod and sat on the edge. For a second, I breathed. My peace was disturbed when a staff member escorted me out of the room.
Dozens of staff members attended to each student. All had similar symptoms to mine, and we recovered in our own ways. The staff member who was with me escorted me outside. I first saw the stone entrance and pavements.
Above that, soft grass and stone benches. Nothing fancy, but it was still lovely. Recovering from that virtual world makes everything here feel... real. A place to sit, to settle. To remember we're alive. I find Adrien near a fountain, bent over a water spout, splashing his face. He looks up when I approach.
"You look like crap." His voice was hoarse.
"You're welcome," I say, half-smiling.
He laughs. I laugh, too. We don't say anything else. We don't need to.
I sit beside him and watch the rest file in—Jennifer and Ryder near the edge, Amber arguing with Cyril about who threw the worst punch, and Sera speaking quietly to one of the medics. We're here, but we're not done. A whistle blows.
Staff members in black Dalton uniforms step out of the main building. One of them—tall, sharp-faced, clipboard in hand—raises a hand.
"Freshmen. It's time to finish orientation. Inside."
Groans echo. A few students drag their feet. But we move because we know it's only the beginning. The room is grand, polished, and cold. A projection screen glows with Dalton's insignia: a phoenix ringed in seven elemental crests. The students file in. There are no ranks. There is no seating order... yet.
I take a seat in the back row. Adrien is beside me. I noticed some of the others and other spots in the auditorium, but I didn't approach them. Then, the lights dim. And from stage left, she enters. The headmaster of Dalton Academy is Evelyn Morte, a Flawless black uniform. Hair pulled back like shadow-woven steel. Her expression was unreadable.
She walks to the center of the stage. She smiles faintly.
"Welcome, new students! Love the new outfit?"
There was a silence. She looks at us all and clears her throat.
"Anyways... You've faced hunger, monsters, betrayal, loss, and yourself. More importantly... you've faced each other."
She gestures gently to the screen above her.
"Your performance has already been assessed for those of you who remain. Your actions are recorded. Your choices... noted."
She paces slowly across the stage.
"Dalton does not reward strength alone. It rewards resilience. Adaptability. Judgment."
The screen flashes a list of names—temporary rankings. Some cheer. Some fall silent. Some, like me, just stare.
Evelyn smiles. "Your official Dalton rank determines your access to electives, mentors, squad leadership positions, and tournament eligibility. These will be posted tomorrow morning."
She stops walking. And for a moment, her voice lowers. It was sharper, more intimate.
"You are not children anymore. You are competitors. Weapons, whether you like it or not. And if you survive your time here, you may even become... something more."
Her smile sharpens. "Welcome to Dalton Academy."
An applause rises, but it feels like thunder in a cage.
The students pour out of the auditorium in murmuring clusters. Some still laugh, some compare wounds, and others scan holo-tabs with provisional rank data. I don't stop to look. Adrien and I walk side by side in silence, heading toward the arched exit of the main hall. The academy lights dim to simulate evening, casting long shadows across the polished floors.
"Well... we did it." Adrien eventually spoke.
"Yeah."
"I mean... we really made it out."
I smirk slightly. "Not all of us are in one piece."
"Not the important pieces."
We chuckle as we reach the doors. The cold Dalton air hits our faces; it is sharp and grounding.
We left the Colosseum and slowly went home, waiting for the bus to pick us up. We passed by the same gardens we did earlier in the day. The light was glowing in the garden, adding a subtle romantic glow to it. Then, as the bus carried us back to the main roads, we saw all the buildings from there.
With enough time, we returned to our building—a modern, simple, half-embedded in the cliffside. Our floor is high enough to see the horizon—clouds crawling over mountaintops, city lights that reach the academy's walls. We enter without saying a word, and the door hisses shut behind us.
The living room is quiet. It has sparse furniture and training gear by the wall. There is a small shared kitchen with two bedrooms—one for each of us. A small balcony door is slightly open to let in the night air. Adrien drops his bag on the couch and groans.
"I'm not even tired. I'm just... hollow."
"Same," I replied.
I walk towards the balcony and lean against the railing. I love looking out here; it gives me peace and comfort and makes me feel like I'm not being watched. I took in the night sky and the city lights for a while longer before crashing on the couch next to Adrien.
———————————
The next morning, the academy is alive again. Uniforms are sharp, and boots echo down polished halls. Elemental glimmers shimmer through open-widow courtyards. The tension from the exam lingers in the air, but now it's been polished into pride. The academy buzzes.
Students crowd a massive screen in the center of the atrium, all eager to see where they landed after the exam. Adrien and I make our way through the crowd. Eyes flick toward them, some curious, some quiet. I ignore them—the screen updates.
Adrien found his name quickly. He got a rank of B. It took me a second, but I eventually found it. My eyes widened at what I did not get, but the information listed about me.
——————————————————————
Reyes, Daniel — Rank: B+
Primary Element: Fire
Secondary Element(s): Dark
——————————————————————
I stare at my information. There was no mention of my Demon element. I raised an eyebrow.
"That's not right," I said quietly.
Adrien looks over. "What's not?"
I don't answer at first. I keep staring.
"They left something out."
Adrien measured the board. Noticing my information. "Oh. I see... Accident?"
"No." I take a step back from the screen.
Could it be Headmaster Evelyn? Given that I submitted all my information to her and her team, she would know about my elements. Why would she leave that info out? Was it to protect me? Or to protect the people? If she did this, would she come to see me soon? If so, for what? Ugh, I don't know... I let out a deep sigh.
"Could be protection," Adrien adds. Observing me.
"Or control," I say with suspicion.
I walk away from the screen, and Adrien follows. There was that feeling again. As we walked into the academic building, I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched. And I already have a person in mind who would try.
I looked at my classes and had to split off from Adrien. We fist-bumped each other and went our separate ways. The halls smell like polished steel and elemental residue—char, ozone, fresh earth. The walls are lined with sigil-inlaid doors, each humming faintly with magical wards.
I am now walking alone, following the red glow on my student bracelet. It led me to a door etched with a phoenix encircled around a sword. A plaque reads: "Squad Initiation—Class 1-AZ." I hesitate for a moment, then push the door open.
The room is massive and open, half-gym, half-classroom. Wide platforms rise along the walls, and projection nodes flicker above like watchful eyes. A dozen students wait inside—some familiar from the exam, some new.
I noticed someone familiar. It was Sera. She was flocked by other students who had heard about her. Too many students were beside her, so I doubt she noticed me. I didn't want to disturb her, so I left her to her needs. At the front stood a tall woman in a sleeveless black uniform. Her arms are wrapped in leather cords, and her steel-gray hair is tied into a tight braid down her back.
She writes something on the board in clean, sharp strokes. Her name is Kaelin Voss. She then turns to me.
"You're late," she says coldly.
I blink, looking around. I'm not the last student here, but her tone doesn't care.
"Won't happen again," I said coldly.
She nods once. Sharp. Then gestures to the board.
——————————————————————
Dalton Academy – Survival Rank System
Ranks: S / A / B / C / D / E / F
Rank affects:
"Mission assignments"
"Squad leadership eligibility"
"Dorm tier"
"Duel authorization"
"Graduation pathways"
Failure to maintain rank results in reassessment or expulsion.
——————————————————————
She turned to her desk, slamming her palm down on it. The standing students quickly returned to their seats, and I also took my seat in the back.
"Dalton doesn't reward mediocrity. It doesn't hand out points for effort. You're here to train, compete, and evolve—or break."
She steps forward, eyes scanning each student.
"Every month, you'll face performance evaluations."
"Every week, combat assessments. Every day, decisions that matter."
She looks at me for half a second longer than the others.
"You've all survived. Now we'll see if you're worth keeping alive."
I can feel the eyes again. I glance at the bracelet on my wrist. The screen flashes: Squad Assignment: Class 1-AZ | Rank B+ | Pending Team Sync. Somewhere, I felt her gaze. Evelyn was watching, and I'd have to play along for now.
The Instructor continued discussing school life and what was expected of us. To be honest, I couldn't care less, but I knew I at least needed to learn these rules and expectations if I was going to become a mercenary, so I put up with them.
Eventually, the Instructor placed a crystal on her desk. She called it a 'Basic Elemental Sync' test. One by one, we were called to the platform and told to channel raw elemental energy into the neutral crystal so the instructors could "calibrate our flux output." It sounds fancy, but it's just a way to watch us burn.
Some blast their power too hard. Some can't even light the stone. Then it's her turn, Sera. She steps onto the platform, and the room exhales for a second. Everyone watches. She doesn't say anything. She just lifted her hand. Light blooms from her palm—pure, silver-white. And then, wings. Not full ones, just a spectral flare behind her, arcing with the angel element.
The crystal glows so bright that Instructor Voss raises her hand to shade her eyes. Someone whistles behind me.
"She's definitely S-rank," one guy behind me mutters.
"She's gorgeous and divine-tier? Unfair." A girl on my left said.
"That's Sera Lionheart, right? From the old bloodlines." Another student said aloud.
The room starts to buzz. I watch her face. She's smiling, but not really. The moment the test ends, they swarm her again. Half the class is circling, asking about her lineage, her power, and who her family trained with. Someone already wants to know if she's gunning for a squad.
She nods politely. She answers softly and doesn't break. But I can tell she hates this. I've seen that look before—like you're glowing on the outside and drowning inside. And then, her eyes catch mine, just for a second. She steps away from the group, bringing her chair with her. She walks past three people who are still asking her questions and sits down. Right next to me.
"Help me." She mumbles under my breath.
I blink.
"With what?"
She forces a smile. "Looking busy. Or intimidating. Or both." She lowers her voice again.
"I didn't ask for this."
I shrug, "The Good news is that they'll get bored. The bad news is that not soon."
She chuckles—barely. I glance sideways at her. Her hands are clasped too tightly in her lap.
"You burned bright up there."
"That's the problem." She added softly.
I'm not even thinking about the sync crystal until Instructor Voss says my name.
"Reyes. You're next."
I stand, ignoring the glances from the other students. The walk to the platform is short. The crystal is mounted on a metal pedestal, flickering faintly. Other students shift in their seats. I place my palm over it.
"Control, not flare." The Instructor watches.
I nod once, then exhale. I feel the fire first, always first. It's not like starting a match. It's like remembering heat. Like it was always there, waiting. A warm pulse builds in my chest and moves into my arm. The crystal glows bright orange, swirling with red at the edges.
Then I let the dark element trickle in—cold and sharp, like smoke curling inside the flame. The light in the crystal dims at the center, pulsing like an eclipse. Around me, the room has gone quiet. I don't push it any further. I don't dare. Not here. Not with the demon lurking just beneath my skin. I pull back.
The light fades. The crystal cracks faintly along the surface, just one hairline fracture. The Instructor raises an eyebrow before dropping her expression.
"Stable. A touch aggressive but contained."
I turn to go, but I feel it in my eyes. A few students whisper as I pass. Someone mutters close to A-tier. Someone else questioned about the flicker at the end. I sit back down, jaw tight. She hid it, I thought to myself, and I don't know whether to feel grateful... or angry.
My heart's still steady, but the flame behind it isn't. It's tapping at the door—the part I didn't let out. The part I never should. Before I can sink too deep into it, Sera taps my shoulder. She doesn't look at me straight away. She just watches the next student fumble through a sparkless projection. Then:
"You held back."
I say nothing. She turns slightly. Still not looking me in the eyes, but close.
"The crystal responded like it wasn't finished. Like something else was there, but you stopped."
I clench my fist on my knee.
"That's weird, huh? I poured everything I had." I responded finally. Of course, I'm lying.
She pauses before responding.
Her voice was gentle. "I'm not asking why. But I'm glad you didn't let it break."
I stare at her for a moment. I bet since the exam, she's noticed something about me. About my powers. Yet, she refuses to push me about it. That got to me. I turned away from her and looked back towards the Instructor. In the corner of my eye, I see her smile faintly as she turns back toward the platform.
I should say something to her, but Instructor Voss claps once before I can.
"Next Up: Squad formation drills."
She taps a crystal tablet.
"You'll be grouped by temporary rank balance. One Elemental core, one combat-type, one utility, one wildcard. Demonstrate cohesion, not dominance."
Her eyes cut through the room like a scalpel.
"Let's see who plays well with others."
My bracelet pulses and then displays a new message: Squad Sync: Temporary Pairing — Reyes, Daniel / Lionheart Sera / Vale, Tamy/ Kellen, Rhett.
Sera leans over once more; she's smiling. "Guess I'm stuck with you after all."
I awkwardly chuckle.
The Instructor taps her tablet, and the floor panels on the other side of the room slide outward, revealing a sunken training arena. Projection crystals come to life, generating a mock terrain of ruined stone paths, floating platforms, and high walls of simulated debris.
"Your objective is simple: cross the field and deactivate the core." The Instructor clarifies as she points toward the simulated battleground.
A tall, glowing pillar appears at the far end of the arena, sealed behind a metal lattice.
"You'll be scored on teamwork, time, and composure. Sabotage each other, and I subtract points."
She gestures at me. Then, the rest of my group.
"Reyes, Lionheart, Vale, Kellen. You're first."
First up, huh? I guess it's time to set a class example. I stand up, and the others follow. We walked down from our desks and dropped into the pit. My boots hit a cracked stone. The air is hotter here, manipulated by heat runes beneath the floor.
To my right was Tamy, rolling her shoulders, blades already gleaming. To my left was Sera, calm and focused. Her fingers glow faintly with light. And opposite me, leaning against a broken column, chewing gum like it's his job—Rhett. Arms crossed, half-bored expression.
"So, who's leading this disaster?"
Tammy looks already annoyed. "Not you, breezy."
"No one's leading. We split the roles. Daniel, upfront, I'll support with light. Tammy watches the flanks. Rhett, you clear obstacles." Sera addressed.
Rhett shrugs and spins a breeze between his palms. "Fine. But I don't do rescue missions."
The bell chimes. The match begins.
We sprint forward. I take point, waving through columns as projectile turrets activate, hissing red bolts across the floor. I throw a wave of fire into the bolts, forcing them upward into the sky. Tammy slides under two, flipping over a barricade and destroying one turret with a blade toss.
Rhett gusts forward, leaping between walls to scout the higher ledge, clearing debris with quick whirlwinds. Sera flashes between cover zones, healing minor scorch wounds and illuminating blind spots. We're moving like a real team—until the path splits.
"Two paths. Left's wide, lots of traps. Rights tighter, covered in black fog." Rhett says from above.
"Right, I can light it. Tammy, take rear."
Tammy grumbles but does so anyway. We press on through the fog. The moment we enter, I feel the pressure shift. The fog messes with my element. Fire sputters, heat bends. Sera's light cuts through, creating a narrow tunnel we can see in. Then we hear it, simulated enemies—shadow projections flickering along the corridor edges.
Rhett drops beside us. "Guess I do rescues now."
We break through the final trap, a platform shifting under our feet. I jump first, rolling across. Tammy lands hard, slicing two shadow clones. Sera leaps, but the platform shifts, and she stumbles. I grab her hand and pull her across. Rhett flies over. We run as one. The glowing core is dead ahead.
I send a surge of fire into the relay. Sera channels a beam of light. Tammystabs a final spike into the base, and Rhett gusts behind us, shielding from the last blast. The core powers down. The terrain fades, and we're back in the clean metal arena. We took a moment to breathe. A few students clap above.
"Time: 2 minutes, 43 seconds." The Instructor says stoically.
She nods once. "Efficient. Balanced. Not bad, 1-AZ."
Her eyes linger a second longer on me, then she returns to the rest. We return to our seats as the next group drops into the arena. Most of the others head back to where they were—front row, middle pack, wherever they think looks most confident. Sera doesn't; she follows me to the back row and sits beside me. It was not dramatic, just deliberate, as she had chosen it.
I smirk at her. "You're giving up your throne?"
She glances at me with a faint smile. "I didn't earn it yet."
We watch the next squad start their trial—two students immediately fumble their element timing, and a third nearly falls into a trap projection.
"...We did well," Sera stated.
"Yeah. I think so."
There was a brief pause.
Sera looked at me. "You didn't take over. You could've, but you didn't."
I shrug. "They probably listen to you over me. Besides, I didn't need to. You had it. "
She nods, but I can tell that landed deeper than she let on—another pause.
"Back there. When I slipped—
Thanks for grabbing me."
I gave her a half-smile. "You jumped without looking. I just caught you."
She smiles back. "Maybe next time I'll look."
"Maybe next time you don't have to."
She's quiet at that, but not cold. Just... thinking.
The training match continues below us—another team failing hard as a mist trap swallows half the squad. The tension in the room sips with every mistake. But up here? I can breathe, and she can too.
About an hour passes, and the last squad finishes its run. One student limps slightly as they drag themselves out of the field projection. The arena fades, returning the room to polished steel and flickering rune lights. Instructor Voss steps forward, her clipboard in hand, posture unshaken.
"You survived your first assessment." She looks around the room, her gaze cutting sharply through the air.
"Some of you followed orders. A few of you led, most of you panicked." Her eyes linger momentarily on a squad that failed.
"You'll improve. Or you'll be reassigned."
A few students shift nervously in their seats.
"Class dismissed. Return tomorrow with focus. Not excuses," she says flatly as she turns without flourish and exits.
As the room begins to empty, students filing out in clusters, Sera stands beside me and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. There's a softness in her tone I haven't heard all morning.
"Hey... would you like to walk with me?"
She's not smiling or being guarded, just asking. Something in me started to say yes. But I don't get the chance. Because—
The door slams open.
Headmaster Evelyn enters the training hall like a storm held in silk. Black uniform flawless, heels sharp against the metal. A few straggling students freeze mid-step. Her eyes scan the room once, then land on me.
Her voice was curt and precise.
"Daniel Reyes. With me."
The room was silent as everyone looked at me. Even Sera shifted slightly in her posture, lips parting to say something, but Evelyn's presence suffocated the moment.
"...Rain check?" I say to Sera.
She nods, barely. But her eyes follow me. I rise and walk toward Evelyn. And for the second time today, I feel like I'm being led to something I can't see the bottom of. The halls grow quieter as we walk. The further we go, the less foot traffic there is. It feels like we're slipping out of the academy and into its nervous system. Evelyn doesn't speak at first.
She walks with her hands clasped behind her back, gaze steady ahead. But I know she's thinking. Eventually—
"You showed restraint during the exam." She says to me without turning.
I don't respond. She doesn't need me to.
"Against the Reaper. Against Malik. Even when no one was watching... I was."
That gets my attention.
"Why?" I ask flatly.
She glances at me, sharp like a scalpel's glint.
"Because most students in your position would have broken. You didn't."
She leads me through a large floor carving with Dalton's crest. The hallway narrows, and runes glow faintly beneath our feet—security wards, advanced, old. She opens the door to her office with a quiet flick of her wrist. It's beautiful. Cold. Minimal. Tall windows stare down at the academy courtyard. Books line one wall, relics the other. In the center: a desk made of obsidian-streaked wood.
And across from it, a woman was already waiting. One leg crossed. Head tilted, cheek resting against a gloved hand. Her eyes meet mine: Wine and steel. Piercing. Calm as she half-smiles gently. Her presence feels sharp, like a blade not drawn but close to your throat. She watches me.
"Before we begin... tell me, Daniel," Evelyn asks me as she moves behind her desk.
"When you feel it—
That part of you that doesn't feel like fire—
What do you think it is?"
My throat tightens—the flame inside me shifts.
"...I don't know."
"Good." She responds.
Evelyn finally sits. She then gestures to the woman sitting across from her.
"Then you'll learn. Starting now."
She folds her hands. "This is Regalia Lionheart. She'll be training you personally."
Regalia's gaze doesn't waver. "Don't waste my time." She states calmly.