As Theos entered his Combat Mastery class, his attention was immediately drawn to a familiar face—the arrogant student from the trials. His smug demeanor, which had grated on Theos's nerves earlier, was still firmly in place. The student stood apart from the group, his posture exuding an overconfidence that bordered on disdain, as though he considered himself superior to everyone else.
I should talk to him, Theos thought, his curiosity momentarily outweighing his irritation. Extra connections can't hurt. He took a step toward the student, but before he could get closer, the atmosphere in the room shifted.
The air grew heavy, charged with an invisible pressure that pressed against Theos's skin. A voice—deep, resonant, and unyielding—rippled through the space like distant thunder. It wasn't just sound; it carried an undeniable weight, an ancient authority that silenced every conversation and commanded absolute attention.
Theos, along with the rest of the class, turned toward the source. Above them, a massive projection flickered into existence, radiating raw energy. It displayed a stadium of impossible grandeur. Towering obsidian pillars stretched skyward, their surfaces etched with glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. The arena's floor shimmered with spiraling patterns of light, as though the structure itself was alive. Its scale was overwhelming, almost suffocating.
The voice boomed again, its words reverberating with finality:
"This is where you will be trained. Do not falter. Your efforts here will shape your very existence."
As the last word faded, the projection shifted, zooming in on the arena. Figures began to emerge from the glowing runes, materializing like shadows given form. They were humanoid but moved with an unnerving fluidity, their predatory grace almost alien. Their armor gleamed faintly under the rune-light, but their faces remained hidden in shadow.
Theos felt a chill creep down his spine. There was something profoundly unsettling about these beings, something that gnawed at his instincts.
"Those… are our opponents?" someone whispered from the back, their voice trembling with fear.
The voice returned, sharper and more menacing:
"They are what you will become if you fail."
The room fell deathly silent. A shiver ran through Theos as he processed the implication. He glanced at the arrogant student, whose confident smirk had vanished. In its place was a mask of uneasy determination. For a brief moment, Theos felt an unspoken connection between them—a shared understanding of the grim stakes they faced. This wasn't just training; it was survival.
But even as the weight of the situation bore down on him, Theos felt an unexpected calm. His mind turned to the technique he had mastered—the one born of relentless effort and raw power.
He remembered the fireball: a medium-sized flame spinning in perfect control above his palm, fueled by primal energy. He had spent countless hours refining it, pushing himself to the brink until the technique was sharp and devastating. It had proven its worth when it left a molten crater during a test, shocking even his peers.
Now, that power would be his ace.
Theos clenched his fist, his resolve hardening. It won't be easy, but it doesn't have to be perfect. I've done it before. I'll do it again.
He looked back at the shadowy figures in the projection. Their movements no longer stirred fear but determination. Whatever lay ahead, he would meet it head-on.
Turning to his classmates, he raised his voice, steady and commanding, cutting through the unease. "Listen up! I've got a technique powerful enough to obliterate everything here—but I'll need time to pull it off. Cover me until I'm ready!"
His words hung in the air, drawing everyone's focus. Some students stared at him with wide-eyed doubt; others narrowed their gazes with steely resolve. Slowly, the atmosphere shifted. The tension was still present, but it was now tempered by a fragile unity.
For better or worse, Theos had taken the lead.
As his declaration settled, Theos's thoughts began to race. Something about the shadowy figures still felt off—something that didn't add up.
"These things aren't that strong," he said aloud, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "It's the energy they possess that makes them dangerous. It doesn't feel like their own."
The room fell silent again, students exchanging wary glances.
"What do you mean?" someone asked, their voice taut with tension.
Theos frowned, piecing together his suspicions. His eyes returned to the projection, narrowing as he studied the glowing runes and the faint trails of energy radiating from the figures.
"It's like…" He hesitated before pressing on, his voice growing firmer. "It's like it's not their energy at all. Wait—what if it's the teachers' energy?"
A ripple of shock swept through the group.
"That's impossible," someone muttered.
"Is it?" Theos shot back, his tone sharp. "Think about it. Why else would we be trained here? Why would they create opponents with this much power—power that feels controlled, almost restrained?"
The arrogant student spoke up, his voice laced with skepticism. "You're saying they're funneling their energy into these things? For what? To scare us?"
"No," Theos replied firmly. "To test us. To push us to our limits. This isn't just about fighting; it's about how far we're willing to go to survive. They're forcing us to adapt to energy far beyond what we've encountered before."
The group fell into uneasy silence as the weight of Theos's words settled over them.
"And what happens if we fail?" a voice whispered.
Theos didn't respond immediately. He didn't need to. The voice from earlier had already made it clear. Failure wasn't just an option—it was a transformation, a fate worse than death.
Finally, he spoke, his voice calm yet resolute. "We won't fail. We fight smart, we fight together, and we win. Guard me while I charge my technique, and we'll end this before it even begins."
The class rallied around his confidence, their fear giving way to determination. Even the arrogant student nodded begrudgingly.
"Fine," the student said. "But if your plan doesn't work, we'll need a backup."
"Trust me," Theos replied, his gaze fixed on the projection. "It'll work."
Still, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of his mind. If the energy really did belong to the teachers, what else were they hiding? And what would happen when Theos finally unleashed his own power against it?