The training arena no longer resembled a place of learning.
It was a battlefield. A slaughterhouse.
The Hollow stalked forward with a languid, jerking gait, smoke trailing from its hollowed sockets, claws scraping lines of black against the floor. Behind it, the villains surged, emboldened by the cadets' panic, their eyes wild with the promise of finally breaking the so-called future of hero society.
The cadets screamed, stumbled, lashed out with uncontrolled Idols. Ice froze walls at random. Lightning ricocheted and nearly struck teammates. Wind carved gouges into the floor. The air stank of burnt ozone, stone dust, and blood.
And at the center of it all, Instructor Hayato stood like a wall.
---
His blade gleamed under the emergency lights, each strike a desperate note in the song of survival.
Steel rang against flame. Steel rang against stone. Steel rang against the Hollow's claws — and though the sound was sharp and clear, Hayato felt each impact in his bones, his body screaming at him to yield.
He didn't.
"MOVE!" he barked, his voice cracking with fury as he shoved Aoi aside from a villain's spear. His counterstrike dropped the assailant in a spray of blood, but three more villains surged forward to take his place.
Hayato's chest heaved, sweat pouring, his arms trembling from strain. He had trained these cadets to spar against one another, not to face the embodiment of despair itself. And yet, he planted his feet.
He was the wall.
If he fell, they all died.
---
On the far side, Instructor Keiji — normally the calm tactician — grabbed a cadet by the collar and dragged him behind cover. "Hold your ground! Don't run!" he shouted, voice hard as iron. "If you scatter, you're dead!"
Mika, another instructor, flared her Idol — shimmering crystal barriers sprouting around the younger cadets. She gritted her teeth, hands bleeding as the Hollow's aura cracked her walls like glass. Still, she reinforced them, sweat dripping down her brow. "Get up! All of you! Heroes don't curl into balls and cry!"
Her voice whipped through the air like a whip, snapping some cadets from their stupor.
Haruto rose shakily, lightning sputtering from his fingertips. Ayaka staggered up beside him, frost coating her arms. Rina clutched her glass shards, though they trembled in her bleeding palms. Even Akihiro, usually untouchable, clenched his fists, his golden aura flickering like a guttering flame.
The instructors had dragged them into formation, into something resembling cohesion.
---
But their defense was a disaster.
Mei's Echo Steps blurred her into multiple copies, confusing enemies — but she couldn't coordinate with Daigo, whose stone plates cracked under each strike. Renji's Sonic Pulse deafened allies as much as villains. Kaede's shadows bound a thug's leg — only for the Hollow to pass by and unravel the bindings like smoke.
The cadets fought like frightened animals. Claws, sparks, shards, screams. Their attacks slowed the villains but did little to turn the tide.
And still the Hollow advanced.
---
It raised its claw. The air bent.
A section of Mika's crystalline wall shattered into dust without being touched. The cadets behind it cried out as shards rained down on them.
Hayato launched forward, his sword gleaming — he struck the Hollow across its torso in a clean arc, the strike that would've cut steel beams in half.
The Hollow tilted its head. The wound evaporated. Smoke poured from the mark, sealing it like nothing had happened.
Hayato's breath caught in his throat. His grip tightened until blood slicked the hilt.
It wasn't killable. Not by him. Not like this.
Still, he stepped back into its path.
---
Keiji grabbed Renji by the shoulders, forcing him to look up. "Listen to me, brat! This isn't practice. This isn't show-and-tell. You either fight like you want to live, or you die like a dog. Which do you choose?"
Renji's lips quivered. Then he screamed — this time not from fear, but from fury. His Sonic Pulse rippled outward, and though it still rattled allies, it shoved back a cluster of villains long enough for Kaede's shadows to lash them to the ground.
Mika's voice rang next. "Cadets, FORM LINES!"
Slowly, shakily, the prodigies pulled together. Akihiro moved to the front, light radiating faintly. Haruto and Ayaka flanked him, their elements weaving in chaotic bursts. Tsubasa soared low, wing beats driving debris into villains' faces. Even the weaker ones like Aoi and Yumi braced themselves, trembling but ready.
It was pitiful. It was sloppy.
But it was something.
---
The Hollow lunged. Its claw swept, and villains scattered — they knew better than to get caught in its wake. It aimed not at them, but at the line of cadets.
Hayato intercepted it. His blade met the claw. Sparks exploded. His knees buckled, bones shrieking in protest. The floor cracked under the sheer force.
For a second, the cadets saw him — not as their strict, grumbling instructor, but as a man refusing to die. His sword arm shook, veins bulging, teeth bared.
"NOT… ONE… STEP!" he roared.
The Hollow pressed harder, claws grinding against steel. Hayato's arm quivered violently, his breath ragged. Blood dripped from his mouth. The cadets behind him cried out, frozen in shock.
And still, he didn't break.
---
Then, with a sickening creak, the Hollow shoved. Hayato was thrown back like a rag doll, smashing through a wall, coughing blood. His sword clattered from his grip.
The cadets screamed his name.
The Hollow turned its hollowed gaze upon them, its mouth tearing wider into something like a grin.
Behind it, the villains roared, surging forward again.
And the cadets realized:
Their wall had finally fallen.