Lyra'kaidos locked eyes with her master, the unspoken challenge sparking a determination within her. To wield a revered Psyrixal, like her peers, she knew she must sharpen her assaults and fortify her defenses. 

"He doesn't look like he's playing games today. I can see from the look in his eyes. We both want the same thing. Deep breaths..." She calmly inhales and exhales "I can do this." she whispers to herself. 

Before surrendering to the unknown, Lyra's mind raced; beside her stood her Ka La Ma Era Ila Ma – her fellow scholars – and then, with purpose, entered the luminous cyan circle. 

With a commanding gesture, The Vorakai (Royal blade keeper) rose, and the assembly fell silent.

"Zhilakai Voraxysyn! We have gathered here once again for the Psyrixal attunement. This is the one thousandth time we are doing this... Hehe... It's officially been a millennium since our father; Valkorvus Zha'rielvora, the unyielding combatant, put an eternal rest to the malefic, Kalidor Arktovolt." He goes on one knee in front of the Collosal, gold colored statue of Valkorvus and the gathering responds with the same action. "Honor forged, victory claimed!" The assembly's voice, loud, and firm as they proclaim a victory quote. 

There are four hundred and twenty students, who are competing for a weapon that would align with their mind, and soul, increasing their combat abilities to a greater extent than their base form would. The Zha'rielvora's call this weapon the Psyrixal, which simply means "Soulsteel". Every year, they would all come together in the Thikor Zha – Balanced dwelling – for this event. It was created back in the Aethoriksyn era, the "era of ancient harmony", following the victory of Valkorvus.

The Vorakai rose from his kneeling position, facing the students. His husky tone softened, tinged with concern. "Contestants," he began, "you have all prepared for this day. Some never had the opportunity to step foot into this place, but you are all fortunate to become competitors in this annual event. Are you all ready for the upcoming obstacles ahead? Or..." He pauses and turns to Lyra, who's gazing at the layout and designs of the infrastructure.

He walks up to her, calling her attention assertively. "Daughter of the Aethonar (Wisdom Warrior)! " She flinches and responds hastily "Sir! Victory claimed... Um... I was definitely still here." She gives him a nervous smile. "You better pay attention to what I have to say about this challenge. Don't think being the daughter of the Aethonar would be grace, if you fail this competition. We get that the place is dazzling but your on a mission, young woman." His words are straightforward but his expression is neutral and relaxed, "get your head outta the clouds because you are part of the team going subterranean." Some of the other students snicker at the confrontation. Lyra folds her lips in embarrassment, and gives him a weak response. She finds her father and master's eyes, both having a look of skepticism on their faces. She nervously waves at them, and looks away shyly.

"Teachers, your students are about to embark on a life changing journey. You have 15 minutes to engage with them. Make it count." The Vorakai brings his communiqué to a temporary end, leaving the students a few minutes of interaction. 

Lyra'kaidos drew near, her master's imposing figure looming beside her father, their eyes converging upon her.

"Is this some kind of joke to you?" Her master asks, "You just had to get noticed by the Vorakai." He says, disappointedly.

"Whoa! Hear me out. At least.... He noticed me. How about that?!" Lyra says, defensively. Her defense crumbles immediately her father chips in.

"Lyra!" He yells irritated by her actions, "Kraval here has taught you everything he knows about being a good combatant. I don't see any reason why you should be looking at the ceiling when you're being addressed. When I first got my Psyrixal attunement, I was literally your age. I was only nineteen years old, just like you are, when I earned myself my very own Psyrixal. And a few years after that, I worked my way up to the Voraethor (sun guardian) before I rose to the Ae–"

"Aethonar!" She cuts him off, "I know, okay? I just do not understand why you always have to brag about it all the frickin' time. Give me a break." She feigns dizziness.

"Can you be serious, right now?!" A hint of anger following his cry for her seriousness.

Lyra's expression suddenly becomes serious, and her voice deepens a little while expressing her frustration "Father. I know what I want for myself. You know more than anyone that I don't need someone to direct me on how to go in life. I'm not a child anymore. I'm an exceptional Zha'rielvora. So don't be shocked when I clear this shit in one go." She self proclaims.

"Calm down now." Her master intervenes, "Don't get so cocky. This isn't your average class activities. This is a competition that would forge your path into being a great Kalyndori (Tribe Protector) or even second in command; the Zhilakorin (Harmony Guardian)." 

The facilitator announces a seven-minute remaining timeframe. Students start getting ready to begin their mission. "Uh... Vykar. Master. Yeah, I say this with respect... I am not gonna be any of those things." Lyra declares, "I am gonna be the protector of realms! Or the one who would craft a forever balanced vylaxys." Her master, and her father, both shoot her a disapproving look.

"What the hell are you saying? You can't even build a toy, let alone forge balance for the planet." Her master opposes.

Lyra gets disappointed, and gives an excuse to head back to the circle.

"Good luck, lunakhrai." Her father mutters 

As Lyra walks angrily to the circle, she turned to see Kryo'nya, her childhood slash best friend, standing before her, clad in an outfit identical to hers – a dark, hooded cloak with a subtle sheen, perfect for stealth and shadowy endeavors. The cloak's folds were expertly draped, concealing his figure and movements, but his sleek, white hair spilled freely, framing his face. His piercing orange eyes sparkled with mischief. A utility belt wrapped around his waist, holding various daggers, pouches, and tools of the trade. His boots were black leather, soft and flexible for silent movement.

Lyra chuckled, "Dude, what are you wearing? Kinda looks like mine."

Kryo'nya grinned, swirling to show off his attire. "At least my boobs are completely covered," he teased.

Lyra playfully jabbed him in the chest. "Bro! My boobs aren't exposed. You're the weird perv trailing off. My eyes are up here, buddy."

Kryo'nya pursed his lips, introducing himself with a cheesy flair, "My apologies, little Aethonar. I'm Kryo'nya Veloxi." He took Lyra's hand, planted a kiss on it, and gazed into her eyes "I'm not that kind of man. I would never fixate my gaze on your cleavage."

Lyra's gaze roamed his features: his bright orange eyes mirroring her own, eyelashes batting like a lady's, and a heartwarming smile. His jawline, though, was distinctly masculine, softening his otherwise feminine appearance – the slicked-back white hair, the delicate facial structure. He almost looked like a lady, but the sharp angles of his face and the mischievous glint in his eye betrayed a masculine charm.

"Wow! You're definitely a dreamy guy." Lyra said, her sarcasm dissolving into laughter.

Kryo'nya smiled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Lyra's laughter faded, and she studied Kryo'nya's expression. "So, what brings you here?"

Kryo'nya's smile faltered for a moment before he regained his composure. "Isn't it obvious? To show some love before you probably get beaten up to a pulp. Unlucky for me, I don't get to see it." He feigns disappointment.

Lyra looks at him unamused. "Thank you so much." A sarcastic appreciation escapes her mouth.

Kryo'nya shrugged. "Perhaps we can... collaborate. I have skills that might benefit your endeavors."

"But you can't join me," she said. "How did you even get in here? This is strictly Zha'rielvora's domain. You should have been stopped by the guards before entering this land. This breach proves the guards are slacking."

"Chill your horses," he implies. "The guards are doing their jobs. I'm just too fast for their normal eyes to see." He points at his legs slowly taking the form of a shadow. 

"What's up with the emphasis?" She comments.

The crowd's anticipation peaks as the challenge draws near. Suddenly, Lyra's hand wraps around Kry's, and she bursts into a sprint, towing him to their circle.

Kry's laughter echoes through the arena as he recovers from the surprise.

"Lyra! Chill out!" he reminds her, his voice laced with amusement and caution.

Breathless, Lyra releases his hand, her eyes aglow with excitement within their designated circle.

"Yeah?"

"If I go in with you... don't you think it would mess with the sensors?"

"What sensors?"

"The ones that know how many people are in each circle. When I checked with my Speedlink, I saw four hundred and twenty bodies. In your circle, I saw one hundred and five." 

"Sooo... What's the problem here?" She questions his explanation.

Kryo'nya shakes his head in disbelief and replies her. "Man," he exclaims. "Sometimes, you are as dense as that chakram dagger on your belt."

"I'm not you moron." She counters "I know you could easily use your shadow powers or whatever to cloak your self."

Kry looks confused at first glance, but realizes her idea is very useful. He pretends to have the idea in mind but she doesn't buy it. They bicker a bit before they get interrupted with an announcement.

The Vorakai gives them quick warnings and tips so they'd know how to go about their mission. "The facilitators will take it from here. Each group has their own facilitators. 10 facilitators assigned to each group for protection. This mission isn't ordinary. I know you were all told about this before you got here." His voice becomes almost inaudible. It was almost like he didn't want to speak. "People have lost their lives from this. The places some of us were sent to, cost us our comrades lives." He pauses to gather his composure and resumes, "I hope everyone comes out safe. Subterranean people are probably gonna have it the hardest because there's not much light under vylaxys. Either way, I wish you all Good luck."

The floor within each circle begins creating patterns resembling various structures. Lyra's circle projects a temple, its intricate details unfold before her eyes. As she analyzes the pattern, it starts to look eerily familiar.

Before she can pinpoint the connection, Lyra is suddenly transported to an ancient-looking forest. A massive, worn-out building looms before her, covered in moss, vines, and teeming with creatures.

Lyra recognizes the structure instantly, but her excitement is short-lived. She turns to share her discovery with Kry, only to realize he's nowhere to be found.

Panic sets in as Lyra scans her surroundings, noticing the sparse number of students. Some are already showing signs of fear, anxious about being left without a facilitator.

Taking a deep breath, Lyra pushes aside her own confusion and focuses on calming her teammates. "Hey, it's okay. We'll figure this out," she reassures them, trying to project confidence.

As she speaks, Lyra's eyes continue scan

ning the surroundings, searching for any sign of Kry or a clue to what's happening.