The day was warm, but an air of expectancy hung over the Rath Chakra Guild's headquarters. Haider Ali, the guild leader, sat in his intricately designed office, waiting for someone. The room was adorned with symbols of the guild's rich history: a gilded wheel with flames etched into its spokes, crossed swords decorating the walls, and an ancient banner that fluttered gently in the breeze from an open window.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. "Enter," Haider said, leaning back in his chair.
The door creaked open to reveal a striking figure. Aafreen, with her long white hair flowing over her simple yet elegant attire, stepped in. Her presence was commanding yet serene, a blend of poise and latent power.
"You summoned me," she stated simply, standing by the window and gazing out at the bustling training grounds below.
"I did," Haider said, his voice steady yet firm. "You're familiar with Aamir Singh, aren't you? The boy from the trials?"
Aafreen nodded. "The one who fought the predators? He's talented, but unrefined. Why?"
Haider rose from his chair and walked to the window, standing beside her. "I want you to monitor him. His potential is beyond what we've seen, but he's an uncut gem. I need you to ensure he doesn't falter—quietly. Intervene only if absolutely necessary."
Aafreen's brows furrowed slightly. "You're asking me to babysit him?"
"No," Haider said with a chuckle. "I'm asking you to nurture a seed that could grow into something extraordinary. This boy could redefine what it means to be a warrior, Aafreen. I feel it in my bones."
For a moment, silence filled the room as Aafreen considered his words. Finally, she nodded. "Very well. I'll keep an eye on him. But if he stumbles, he must rise on his own."
"Agreed," Haider said, smiling.
Two days later, the guild's main hall was abuzz with activity. Students milled about, some confident, others nervous. The Power Measurement Test was not only a rite of passage but also a definitive ranking that would determine their standing within the guild.
Aamir stood among the crowd, his expression calm but focused. He had grown accustomed to the whispers around him—some admiring, others doubting.
"Let's see if the non-mage can live up to the hype," a student sneered as he passed by.
Aamir ignored him, his mind set on the tasks ahead.
The first test was speed. A circular arena with glowing markers was set up, and students were required to race through a series of obstacles while maintaining precision. When Aamir's name was called, the murmurs grew louder.
"Let's see what he's got," someone muttered.
Aamir took his position, his body taut like a coiled spring. His adrenaline energy surged through his body. At the signal, he exploded into motion.
His speed was astonishing, his movements fluid and precise. He weaved through the obstacles with an agility that left many in awe. When he crossed the finish line, the scoreboard lit up with his time—faster than most Students who had taken the test before him.
The hall fell silent for a moment before applause broke out, though not everyone joined in.
"Beginner's luck," a voice scoffed from the crowd.
The strength test came next. Aamir approached a reinforced target designed to measure the force of his punches. He took a deep breath, focused his energy, and struck. The target cracked slightly, its energy gauge surging higher than expected.
"Impressive," one examiner murmured, jotting down notes.
Finally, the test for body control required balancing on a narrow beam while dodging magical projectiles. Aamir's precision and reflexes shone once again, earning him nods of approval from several guild officials.
The final test was the most anticipated—the Chamber of Adrenaline Energy. This enchanted device measured the potential of a student's adrenaline energy, a critical component for both magical and physical warriors.
Aamir stepped into the chamber, feeling the air grow thick with magic as the device activated. A faint hum filled the room, and the crystal panels began to glow.
But then, the humming stopped abruptly. The panels flickered, displaying "Error."
The examiners exchanged puzzled glances. "That's odd," one of them said. "Let's recalibrate and try again."
Aamir stepped out, waited, and re-entered the chamber. This time, the hum grew louder, the glow more intense. But once again, "Error" flashed across the panels.
"Is it broken?" someone whispered.
"We'll try the secondary chamber," an examiner said, motioning Aamir to follow.
The second chamber, larger and more advanced, was prepared. Aamir stepped in, and the process began anew. The same result followed: "Error."
By now, whispers filled the hall.
"What's going on?"
"Is he too weak, or too strong?"
Haider Ali, observing from a balcony above, leaned forward with a curious smile.
After some deliberation, the guild officials made an unprecedented decision. "Due to the repeated errors in measurement, we're placing Aamir Singh at Gladiator Level," the lead examiner announced.
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Gladiator Level was a rank reserved for those with extraordinary power.
While some students admired Aamir's accomplishment, others were less convinced.
"Gladiator Level? That's ridiculous," one student muttered.
"He's just lucky the chambers malfunctioned," another added.
Aamir paid them no mind. He wasn't here to win their approval—his focus was on his own growth.
Later that day, Aamir was called to the guild's equipment room. There, he was handed his new uniform.
The outfit was a striking mix of yellow and gold, its design both practical and elegant. On the left side of the chest, the emblem of the Rath Chakra Guild was proudly displayed: a wheel with yellow flames and a crossed sword in hand.
As he donned the uniform, Aamir felt a surge of pride and responsibility. This was more than just clothing—it was a symbol of his belonging and his potential.
With his new uniform, Aamir made his way to the administration office to collect his room key. Behind the desk sat a man whose size seemed to defy the chair beneath him. The nameplate on the desk read Raghav Kumar.
"Name?" Raghav asked without looking up, his voice gruff.
"Aamir Singh," Aamir replied.
Raghav scanned a ledger, muttering under his breath. Finally, he handed Aamir a key. "Room 207. You'll be sharing with two others. One's already there—Kunal Kumar. The other hasn't arrived yet."
"Thank you," Aamir said, taking the key.
As he turned to leave, a voice behind him snapped, "Move aside if you're done!"
Aamir glanced back to see a tall, confident student waiting impatiently. Shrugging, he stepped aside and made his way to the dormitory.
The dormitory room was spacious, with three beds neatly arranged and individual closets for each occupant. A balcony overlooked the training grounds, offering a breathtaking view.
One of the beds was already occupied. A boy lay there, engrossed in a book titled The Ancient Era and the War. He looked up briefly as Aamir entered.
"You must be Aamir," the boy said, marking his page and sitting up. "I'm Kunal."
"Nice to meet you," Aamir replied, placing his belongings on an empty bed.
Kunal's gaze lingered on Aamir's uniform. "So, you're the Gladiator Level guy everyone's talking about."
Aamir smirked. "Seems like it."
"Don't let it get to your head," Kunal said with a grin. "But... congrats. That's no small feat."
"Thanks," Aamir said, appreciating the sincerity in Kunal's tone.
As the evening settled in, the two began to discuss their journeys, bonding over shared aspirations and challenges. The third roommate had yet to arrive, leaving the two to ponder what the next day would bring.
As Aamir gazed out from the balcony that night, the campus lights flickering like stars, he couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The tests were over, but the real challenges were only beginning.
He decided to do meditate and he sat in the balcony, crossed his legs and started to spread his adrenaline energy through his body and started to meditate.
Little did he know, his actions had already set wheels in motion—both within the guild and beyond.