The alarm clock rang out with a sharp, vibrating sound that echoed through the tiny apartment.
".Ugh."
Lian Feng tossed out his hand, silencing the clock. His dark, tangled hair was on end in wiry tufts. He sat up carefully, stretching out his thin arms and working his shoulders with a wince. Another night of running on the rooftops had stiffened his muscles.
He stumbled to the window and pushed back the curtain. Outside it stood the city of Hanzhou—a labyrinth of skyscrapers, lit billboards, and alleys that seemed to go on forever. It was a city that was never dark, where heroes roamed by day and monsters by night.
It was not any normal day today. Today was the day he took his entrance examination at Tianxia Academy of Heroes.
Lian's chest was constricted with excitement and nervousness. Tianxia was not any school—these were the crème de la crème hero academy in China. Thousands would try, but only a few would be accepted. It was where the strongest practitioners of the next generation refined their powers to become society's protectors.
And Lian was willing to risk everything to be accepted.
He pulled on his uniform shirt, buttoning it loosely as he checked himself in the cracked mirror. His eyes—sharp, brown, and restless—reflected a determination he didn't always feel.
"You've got this," he whispered to himself. "Mom's web, Dad's senses… you're not ordinary."
The walk to the exam site was crowded. Students of all shapes and sizes filled the plaza outside Tianxia Academy's grand gates. Some radiated confidence, others whispered nervously.
Qi—the word hung on the air. Everyone possessed a type of Qi, but not everyone was heroic. Some could summon lightning, others could toughen their bodies. Lian had seen a thousand gifts, yet always maintained a sense that he remained separate. His mother's Qi manifested in her fingertips—sticky strands which hardened and created strands of webbing. His father's Qi was a sort of sixth sense, reflexes sharpened to a superhuman level.
All together, those presents had made Lian something special.
He gazed up at the giant red banners that spanned the entrance of the academy:
"For Justice, For Harmony, For All."
A girl crashed into him as he stood there.
"Watch it!" she exclaimed, flashing with annoyance.
"Sorry—" Lian began, but then saw her Qi igniting. Little streaks of blue lightning crackled across her forearms.
The girl sized him up, did a once-over, then grinned. "Don't go all stiff on me now, country boy. The test isn't going to wait for you."
He attempted to answer back but was already gone, shoving through the throng.
Lian let out a breath. Great. First impression: perfection.
Inside, the applicants were funneled into a giant stadium. In the center was an instructor in a dark green uniform, his presence brooking silence.
"Hello, candidates!" the man's voice was boisterous. "I am Instructor Zhao, and I am conducting today's practical test. This test will inform us whether you have the skill, courage, and discretion to be a student of Tianxia Academy."
Behind him, a screen flickered into life, revealing giant robot figures with incandescent weapons at the ready.
"These robots are your adversaries. They all possess artificial Qi to battle nefarious villains. Your task: neutralize as many as you can within the allotted time. Efficiency, ingenuity, and mastery score points. Excessiveness will be penalized. And never forget—saving others, even other contestants—is more valuable than mindless destruction."
The crowd buzzed with power. Lian's fingers throbbed. His nerves cried out to run, but the part of him born of his father's legacy kept his muscles loose, waiting.
Zhao raised his arm. "Prepare. The gates open in sixty seconds."
The gates swung wide.
Anarchy flooded the simulated cityscape beyond—streets littered with debris, empty skyscrapers, alleys filled with darkness. Mechanical enemies lurched forward, glowing eyes sweeping for prey.
"Go!"
Students poured in. Fire incinerated from one boy's fists, another's body built crystalline armor. The air exploded in strength as Qi of every kind unleashed.
Lian sprinted ahead, heart racing. A robot whirled, its blade-arm whining as it attacked. His feeling of danger spiked—a hard thrum at the back of his skull.
Move.
He dodged, the blade zipping past his old head. With the same action, he flicked his wrist.
Thwip!
A strand of web shot out, wrapping itself around a streetlamp. Lian swung on over, gravity pushing him over the robot's shoulder. He twirled in mid-air, pulling with every ounce of strength—his web stretched, slamming the robot's head into the pavement. Sparks exploded as it convulsed, disabled.
Students in the audience gawked.
"Did he just—?"
"That's a strange Qi…"
Lian didn't give up. He attacked again, soaring over the bombed street, weaving between crumbling buildings and enemy machines. Wind screamed in his face, and in the midst of chaos, a smile spread onto his lips.
This… this is where I feel alive.
But his instincts screamed louder next.
Danger—left!
A giant robot emerged from the wreckage, twice the others' size, charging up its cannon arm. A boy nearby stood frozen, paralyzed with shock and unable to move.
"Get down!" Lian yelled.
He threw out a web, ensnaring the boy's coat, yanking him aside as the cannon went off. The street erupted, fire and shrapnel raining down.
The boy swallowed. "You—saved me..."
"Run!" Lian yelled, already racing toward the machine. His head was reeling—he couldn't maintain that kind of firepower directly.
Think, Lian. Dad's reflexes. Mom's webs. Bring them together.
The cannon began to glow, reflashing. Lian dodged left and right down the road, dodges precisely timed to seconds of a split. He flowed like water, all of his reflexes operating on instinct. He fired webs at available refuse, pulling trash into the machine's mechanisms.
Whirr—GRRRK! The cannon jammed.
Lian seized the moment. He swung high, wrapping webs around the robot's neck. With a heave, he hauled, using the machine's own weight against it. It toppled, colliding with the ground.
The stadium echoed with cheers from the watching instructors.
Moments merged into each other as Lian fought, rescued, swung, and parried. His lungs burned, his arms ached, but battle rhythm carried him on.
He panted on a rooftop, gazing out over the city littered with scrapped machines by the time he completed the test.
The buzzer sounded. "Time's up!"
Student after student, they made their way back to the gates, some limping, others smiling proudly. Lian was at the side of the lightning girl from the morning, her uniform smoldering but her smile still intact.
"You're not as hopeless as you appeared," she said, looking at him. "Name?"
"Lian Feng."
She smiled. "Xia Yun. Don't forget it. I'll be number one."
Lian weakly chuckled. "Guess I'll be right behind you then."
Her smile faltered—barely.
Beyond hearing, Instructor Zhao shouted out above them. "Results tomorrow. For now—rest. You've earned it."
As the crowd dispersed, Lian gazed up at the great gates of the academy again.
Tomorrow… everything changes.
And deep within his mind, his sense of foreboding stirred quietly, a whisper of storm-borne rumors to come.