The following day, the entrance ceremony for the new Elites took place in the grand hall of the training compound. The room was packed with new recruits, all of us seated in rows of polished wooden benches that faced a raised platform. The walls were lined with banners bearing the insignia of the Elites—a gleaming silver star surrounded by a golden ring.
The energy in the room was electric, a mix of nervous anticipation and pride. I sat between Xavier and Cherry, with Heesung and Kaito just a few seats away. We whispered among ourselves as we waited for the ceremony to begin.
"Do you think they're going to make us do something crazy again?" Cherry asked, her voice barely audible over the murmurs of the crowd.
"Doubt it," Xavier replied, grinning. "This is more about pomp and tradition."
"Let's hope so," I muttered, still sore from Asahi's brutal training session the day before.
The room fell silent as the doors at the back of the hall opened. The Elite Council members entered, their presence commanding instant respect. Leading them was Sora, the Chief of Elites, his black hair with yellow streaks shining under the overhead lights. He walked with the calm confidence of someone who had seen and conquered countless battles.
Behind him were the four council members who had taken on trainees: Cheern with her exotic hair and red-violet eyes, the kind-looking man with glasses, the girl with blond hair and sky-blue eyes, and finally, Asahi, his expression as stern as ever.
Sora stepped up to the podium at the center of the platform, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd.
"Welcome," he began, his voice steady and clear. "You've all made it through the first hurdle of becoming an Elite. But let me make one thing perfectly clear: getting in is the easy part. Staying here, earning your place, and rising through the ranks—that's the real challenge."
His words hung heavy in the air. I could feel the weight of his gaze as if he were speaking directly to me.
"There are a few things you all need to know," Sora continued. "First, being part of the Elites is not a guarantee. Your council members have full authority to remove anyone they believe is not suited for this life. If you're not giving it your all, you're out. No exceptions."
The room tensed at his statement. I stole a glance at Asahi, who stood with his arms crossed, looking as if he wouldn't hesitate to kick someone out.
"Second," Sora said, his tone softening slightly, "each of you will need to select a secondary weapon from the opposite category of your primary specialty. Bladed specialists must choose a firearm, and firearm specialists must choose a bladed weapon. This is not negotiable. Versatility is key in the field."
I exchanged a look with Xavier. He seemed unfazed, but I couldn't help wondering what kind of firearm I would choose. I'd barely touched one before.
"Lastly," Sora said, his expression growing serious again, "your future in the Elites depends on your performance and the judgment of your council member. After your term in the Low Elites, your council member will decide your next step. If they believe you're ready, you can skip ranks. If not, you'll either move up slowly—or not at all."
The weight of his words settled over us like a heavy blanket. This wasn't just about surviving the training; it was about proving our worth every single day.
"Now," Sora concluded, his voice firm, "welcome to the Elites. Work hard, stay focused, and don't disappoint."
The room erupted in applause as Sora stepped back, allowing the council members to take turns addressing us. Each of them spoke briefly about their expectations, their voices blending into a blur as my mind raced.
This was it. The real journey was just beginning.
---
After the ceremony, we were all taken to a large, sleek room lined with rows of lockers. Inside, we were handed our uniforms. Each piece of clothing was carefully tailored to suit the individual, not only in size but also reflecting our unique attributes. The defining feature of every uniform was its color—each one matched the eye color of the wearer, a subtle but striking detail that connected us all.
When I opened my locker, I couldn't help but let out a small gasp. My uniform was black with accents of vibrant blue, the same shade as my eyes. It consisted of a fitted tank top tucked into military-style pants with several utility pockets. The boots were heavy and durable, designed for long days and hard terrain. Along with the basics, I was given a black jacket that was both stylish and functional, fireproof gloves to protect my hands when using my powers, and a sleek mask that would keep my identity hidden during missions.
"Not bad," Xavier said from beside me, inspecting his own uniform. His outfit was more casual than mine—a loose tank top, cargo pants, and sneakers. Over that, he had a massive jacket that looked heavy but surprisingly practical, and his mask resembled a futuristic gas mask. "They must've known I like to keep things light."
Heesung's locker was nearby. He pulled out a skin-tight black t-shirt that clung to his muscular frame. It was paired with military pants and the same bulky boots as mine. His jacket was similar to mine, though it was slightly larger and had more compartments. "Guess they want to make sure we look intimidating," he joked, flexing playfully.
I smirked at him, but my attention was quickly drawn to Kaito. When he stepped out in his uniform, I almost didn't recognize him. His outfit screamed "professional and deadly." He wore a long-sleeved button-up shirt with a tie and a tailored vest that emphasized his broad shoulders. His pants were slightly tight, adding to the sharp, business-like look, and over it all, he had a long coat that flowed dramatically when he walked. He looked like he belonged in a spy movie, and I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
"What?" Kaito asked, noticing my expression. "I think it suits me."
Cherry, meanwhile, looked stunning as always. Her uniform was sleek and practical, a tight long-sleeved shirt and fitted pants that allowed for easy movement. She wore shoes instead of boots, which seemed to suit her style better. The violet accents in her uniform shimmered under the lights, matching the brightness of her eyes.
"Guess they're making sure we're all ready to look the part," Cherry said, twirling a little to show off her outfit. "Not bad, huh?"
"Not bad at all," I replied, tugging on the jacket to test its fit.
Once we were all suited up, the council members returned to check on us. Asahi, in particular, took a long look at our group, his single visible eye scanning us critically.
"You all look fine," he said after a pause, his voice gruff as always. "But looking the part isn't enough. You're Low Elites now, but don't let that title fool you. If you don't work hard, you'll be gone faster than you can blink. Got it?"
We all nodded, the weight of his words settling over us. Asahi's approval might be rare, but it was clear he expected nothing less than perfection from us.
The uniform wasn't just a piece of clothing—it was a symbol of everything we had worked for and everything we still had to prove. As I adjusted my mask and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I felt a strange mix of pride and determination.
This was just the beginning.