The atmosphere at Vanguard Academy change that fateful morning. It wasn't just the normal morning breeze. It was something much stronger.
A loud alarm that resonated through the entire repurposed factory rang out from hidden speakers. It was able to cut through the sleep of the two thousand survivors.
Everyone stood up quietly from their bunks, changed into their training uniform and began to move towards the training field. Their movements were soo quiet and orderly.
The intense trainings they've gone through for the past six months had shaped them into shadow assassins and have taken away any form of inefficiency.
Damilare moved with them. He was a ghost in the poorly lit repurposed factory. This has been the daily routine for the past few months, so he was used to it.
The terror he had faced since planet earth fell apart had brought him to this point. And today, a new phase of his life was about to start.
He found his teammates standing at one corner of the assembly. They survived the bloodbath and became a team.
Ragnar was six feets tall. He had a broad chest with some sort of mustache. He stood upright and crossed his arms.
Sophie and Bran also stood with Ragnar as they were anxious about the coming event, not knowing what to expect.
In front of the whole crowd, a giant portal called the Gateway Arch stood before them. It was massive and definitely nothing like what they've ever seen.
"So, here we are," Bran quietly said. "It feels like we've been waiting for today for ages.
Ragnar scoffed. He kept his eyes fixed on the giant Gateway Arch before them.
"I honestly don't know how to feel about this. I have a bad feeling about this. It seems i'm going to regret this decision."
Sophie glanced at him. " On the bright side, Ragnar. If you die, at least you would stop having nightmares of instructor Rostova."
Ragnar smirked faintly. This was a part of them as they'd randomly crack jokes. This was how they unburdened themselves of reality.
These individuals had stood by his side through good times and bad ever since he entered the Academy.
Since his family, he had not experienced companionship like the one he shared with them.
Everyone had their own goals.While others chased survival and power, he went after vengeance and reclamation.
The two thousand aspirants had gathered together on the large training field. Their faces were filled with anxiety and fear, some with determination and focus.
The nervous chatter of the croud died immediately as a new figure appeared on an elevated platform.
This was Chief Instructor Elara Rostova.
She wore a grey combat gear. Her face was void of any emotion, and she had a scar that cut through her left eyebrow.
There was a rumor about her that she possessed a rare A-Grade Talent. Some said not only had she survived the verge but she had conquered the whole ten Celestial dimensions.
Her presence alone commanded an authority that needed no explanation.
Her voice resonated across the training field. It was amplified by some hidden speakers.
"Listen up, aspirants!" she started. Her voice lacked emotions.
"For six months, we have broken you. We have starved you, beaten you. We've done all sorts of things to you.
We did not do this out of cruelty to you, but of necessity.
The world you knew is gone. The rules of love and compassion that governed it as well are now.... recipe for a swift and clean death."
She paced along the walkway of the raised platform .
"There is only one truth in this world. The strong survive, and the weak are meat for the strong.
Hesitation is a cancer. Mercy is a disease. Today, we offer you the cure."
Her emotionless eyes swept over them.
"You are about to step into the Astral Verge. This is not a test. The monsters are real. The danger is real. Death... is permanent.
You have one primary assignment in this phase, which is to awaken a Talent. You have to complete this phase with a minimum of a C-Grade Talent.
Anything less than that means failure. And in this Academy, we do not tolerate failure."
A wave of worry swept over the crowd. A C-Grade was seen as the standard, the most commot form of awakened ability.
Instructor Rostova allowed the weight of her words sink into everyone's heart.
However…. survival is not just our only goal. We are not creating survivors, we are creating human weapons. Your performance within the Verge will be monitored. Your kill count will also be tracked.
Aspirants who are exceptionally skilled in combat and achieve a high number of kills will receive special acknowledgment and rewards from the academy when they come back.
Do you understand?"
The atmosphere changed immediately. The anxiety everyone was feeling disappeared, and now there were countless eyes reflecting various emotions.
Greed. Ambition. Bloodlust. Damilare noticed a group of muscular men close by sharing sly grins.
The test was no longer just about making it through the Verge, now it had turned into a competition. He glanced at his team.
Sophie squinted a little, trying to size things up, while Ragnar repeatedly tightened and loosened his large hands.
They understood. This changed everything.
"Assistant instructors, distribute the Nexus Interfaces," Chief Instructor Rostova commanded.
A group of instructors moved out from where the were and move through the aspirants.
They gave each aspirant a stylish, blue wristband. Damilare collected his own wristband. It felt so cool and smooth to touch.
He put it on, and it tightened quietly. It molded into his skin.
Few minutes later, a faint holographic light came to life on its surface.
"The Nexus Interface is crucial for you in the Verge," Rostova explained. "Once you enter, it will show your abilities, keep count of your kills, and most importantly, assess and show the level and type of talent you have awakened.
Do not lose it. Do not break it."
Hooked by his curiosity, Damilare focused on the flashing screen. He saw a basic set of stats shining back at him.
Strength: 10
Vitality: 11
Agility: 9
Spirit: 10
Adaptability: 9
The numbers seemed… ordinary. Nothing special. He was not as strong as Ragnar. His speed or reflex was nothing compared to Sophie's.
He felt a little bit disappointed,but he chose to ignore it. His current stats didn't matter much, anyway.
His family was the source of his motivation and the driving force behind his true strength.
The image ringing in his head of how his world had crumbled and the need to restore his family to what it used to be was his true strength.
As the final pieces of the interface were handed out by the assistant instructors, a new person showed up on the raised platform.
He appeared both old and ageless. He had this aura that distinguished him from the experienced scholars of the Academy.
This was no other person than the headmaster, Donald Wexford.
He didn't have the same big muscles as the instructors, but there was something different about him. An unspoken strength and confidence.
Donald stepped forward. He kept his calm and said nothing. His eyes looked through the two thousand aspirants, standing in an orderly manner on the training field.
His voice wasn't amplified, but he spoke clearly enough for everyone in the field to hear him.
He spoke gently, his deep baritone voice carefully choosing each word. This helped to ease the tension instructor Rostova had created earlier.
"Aspirants of the tenth set," he started his speech. There was absolute silence across the field.
"You stand on the edge of a new beginning. You have faced hardship. You have accepted aggression.
You have taken this opportunity, hoping to regain a world that was taken from you."
He gestured with his hands as he spoke.
" what you have learnt here is just the basis. Your true test, begins now. Go. Slay your demons. Claim your power. And return to us as the weapons humanity needs."
With his final word, he began the incantation.
With all that being said, he began the incantation.
"Zha'kur ven'tahl orix nuvath, kryn varu xal'tesh!"
The language sounded unfamiliar. It consisted of strange clicking sounds and musical syllables that were not easy to pronounce.
He moved his hands through the air as he drew complex shapes that turned into bright blue lines of light and floated in front of him.
The Gateway Arch responded. The soft hum grew into a strong, rumbling noise.
The space within the Gateway Arch started to glow and change shape.
Colors that have never been seen, like purples turning into gold, started to move. A shining vortex of energy appeared. It was a fluid portal that moved and vibrated with great power.
The portal to the Astral Verge was open.
For a split-second, the two thousand aspirants stood still. They were astonished by the beautiful and terrifying sight of the opened portal. Then, the spell broke.
The crowd roared in excitement, fear and a strong craving for power. They moved forward.
" Yes, this is it!" Ragnar screamed, a crooked smile splitting his face. "See you on the other side.... If you want!"
"Just make sure you don't get yourself killed in the first five minutes, Bran!" Sophie said, with a smile on her face as she pushed him forward lightly.
Damilare took one final look at his team. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply.
People often say, just before a man passes away, his entire life plays out in his mind. It seemed as if this was the end of it all for him. He recalled the whole tragedy that had befallen him since the end of the world.
With this, he opened his eyes and ran into the unknown.