They followed Iori for nearly an hour.
Not because the distance was long—but because the path refused to stay the same.
The terrain bent subtly, angles stretching, ground folding inward before releasing again. Kaito felt it immediately. His left eye tracked invisible lines, recognizing distortions that weren't fractures, but old corrections—spaces rewritten long ago and never fully undone.
— This place is wrong, Ren muttered.
— It's forgotten, Iori replied without turning.— There's a difference.
They stopped in a wide clearing surrounded by broken stone pillars, half-swallowed by earth. At the center stood a circular platform carved with symbols identical to those on the Key—except these were older. Deeper. Scarred by use.
Iori stepped onto it.
— Drop your weapons.
No one moved.
— Now, he repeated.
Ryuji hesitated—then planted his katana into the dirt. Ren followed, laying his rifle down carefully. Shiori set his tools aside. Even Saeko loosened her stance.
Kaito was last.
The broken blade resisted as he let go, vibrating faintly before falling silent.
The moment the weapons left their hands—
The platform activated.
Light surged upward, forming a lattice that wrapped around the clearing. The air thickened. Sound dampened. The world closed.
— Welcome, Iori said, finally turning to face them.— To the place where people learn why they die.
Ryuji clenched his fists.
— You promised answers.
— And you'll hate every one of them, Iori replied.
He walked slowly in front of them, eyes sharp, dissecting.
— You lost to Kuon because you tried to beat him individually.— You fought like seven fighters, not one unit.
He stopped in front of Ryuji.
— You rely on forward momentum.— When the world denied you progress, you kept pushing anyway.
Ryuji swallowed.
— That's how I fight.
— That's how you lose, Iori replied flatly.
He turned to Ren.
— You wait for perfect conditions.— Against a Ten, those conditions never exist.
Ren frowned.
— Then what's the alternative?
— Fire anyway, Iori said.— And accept that missing is data.
Ren didn't respond.
Iori moved to Haneul.
— You stabilize too much.— Sometimes collapse is necessary.
Haneul's eyes widened.
— That could kill—
— Yes, Iori agreed.— That's why you hesitate.
He stopped in front of Kaito last.
The silence stretched.
— You're the worst of them, Iori said calmly.
Kaito didn't flinch.
— You don't fight to win.— You fight to delay.— That works until someone decides not to end you at all.
Kaito clenched his jaw.
— Then tell me how to fix it.
Iori studied him for a long moment.
— I won't.
The Key in Kaito's hand pulsed faintly.
Iori stepped back onto the platform.
— I don't train people, he said.— I train outcomes.
He raised his incomplete Key.
— This place reacts to unresolved potential.— With one Key, it remains dormant.— With two…
He brought the fragment close to Kaito's.
The air snapped.
The platform exploded with light.
Reality fractured—not violently, but precisely—splitting the clearing into overlapping layers.
The team staggered as the world divided.
Ryuji found himself standing alone on a scorched battlefield, Saeko beside him. The ground trembled under invisible pressure.
Ren blinked—and was suddenly on a high ridge, rifle in hand, wind screaming past him.
Kaito gasped as the world folded inward, Jun and Haneul appearing at his sides within a shifting void of unstable symbols.
Shiori stood alone in a chamber of floating fragments, tools scattered around him.
Iori's voice echoed through all spaces at once.
— One trainer.— Three paths.
— I won't fight you, his voice continued.— I won't save you.— I will observe.
Ryuji clenched his fists as the air around him grew heavy.
— And if we fail?
Iori's voice was calm.
— Then you learn why.
The ground before Ryuji split open.
A reflection of Kuon stepped forward.
Incomplete.
But terrifyingly real.
Saeko inhaled sharply.
— That's not him…
— No, Iori replied.— It's the part of him that beat you.
Ren's scope flickered as multiple targets appeared simultaneously across his ridge.
Haneul felt the void around them begin to collapse inward.
Kaito's left eye burned as symbols flooded his vision.
— This isn't training…, Kaito said.
— Correct, Iori replied.— Training assumes survival.
The worlds closed.
The trials began.
Far away, deep within the Association's structure, a new pattern formed.
POTENTIAL CONVERGENCE DETECTEDMULTI-OUTCOME SIMULATION: ACTIVE
Iori stood alone on the platform, watching every scenario unfold.
— Let's see who lasts, he murmured.