The air in the room was heavy, thick with tension as the battle royale neared its end.
The number of participants dwindled with each passing second, but in this corner of the room, two dominant figures faced off: Sery Crimson and Ayla Sky, heir to the Empress of West.
Ayla offered a slight, amused smile, almost nonchalant, her piercing gaze fixed on Sery.
— "Oh, if looks could kill, you'd have made me disappear already."
She spoke with a detached amusement, as though the intensity of the showdown did not concern her.
Sery, boiling with anger, refused to back down.
— "Say that again, Ayla. Heir or not, it doesn't give you all the rights. Here, being the child of an empress means nothing." Her voice was sharp, vibrating with barely contained rage.
Ayla raised an eyebrow, still unnervingly calm.
— "Sery, you know we're supposed to be friends, even if it's been a while since we last saw each other. Since we were one, you, me, and the others have always been close. Forget those idiots—let's team up. They're not worth exhausting ourselves over." Her words were firm, but devoid of contempt—just a cold certainty.
— "You look down on them, Ayla, but everyone starts from nothing," Sery shot back, her anger breaking through her composure.
Ayla let out a low chuckle, a glint of defiance in her eyes.
— "So, the Crimsons only move when their masters order them to? Like dogs?" Ayla's provocative tone snapped through the air like a slap.
That was the last straw for Sery. She had been holding her frustration back for too long. Since the start of the battle royale, Ayla had been crushing her opponents with untamed savagery, leaving behind a trail of blood and pain.
Participants she defeated were forcibly teleported away, their injuries so severe that immediate evacuation was the only option to prevent permanent damage. For Sery, it was unacceptable. At eight years old, it was cruel—even in trials like this.
Sery lunged, the rage within her bursting like an untamed fire. She refused to use a weapon against Ayla, but that did not make her any less dangerous. Ayla, seeing the attack coming, tossed her sword aside, a predatory smile curving her lips.
She, too, preferred hand-to-hand combat. With a swift movement, she aimed a kick at Sery's chin, seeking to knock her out in one blow. But Sery dodged by a hair's breadth, her speed and precision allowing her to tackle Ayla to the ground with surprising force for her age.
Ayla, displaying impressive flexibility, struck Sery in the back of the head with a sharp kick.
The two girls got up simultaneously.
As they prepared to launch into another attack, the cold, mechanical voice rang out through the room, abruptly halting the fight.
— "Stop the match. The final ten participants have been confirmed. Any violation of the rules will result in immediate disqualification."
The two girls froze, their breaths heavy.
The next trial would begin soon, but the intensity of the moment lingered. They still stared at each other with that same glint of defiance in their eyes, knowing this was only a pause in a much larger struggle to come.
—————-
— "It seems Azhel was right. Elyone has indeed finished first," announced the Empress in a calm tone, though with a satisfaction she struggled to conceal.
Her eyes sparkled with a hint of approval as she watched the final moments of the battle.
Leonord, seated beside her, nodded, a smile of astonishment tugging at his lips.
— "Young Dantes is impressive. To dominate his opponents like that and gain a loyal ally from the outset? His strategic thinking is equally remarkable. He might even surpass you, Emperor Dantes."
Yelena, the Empress, slowly turned her gaze toward Leonord, her eyes piercing through his mask of flattery.
— "Yelena," intervened Zoey, her voice carrying sincere concern, "I'm worried about Ayla. Your daughter seems far more ruthless than before. Wasn't she so gentle when she was younger? Has your husband's death affected her?"
Yelena, maintaining a neutral expression, studied her interlocutor carefully. Zoey's question carried genuine concern but was also tinged with unease.
— "I don't know," she replied calmly, her gaze drifting momentarily into the void. "I only asked her not to bring shame upon me. But it's true that losing her father has likely marked her more deeply than I realized."
The Empress hid a trace of worry, skillfully playing with her words. She had noticed the change in her daughter, but the older Ayla grew, the more distant she became.
— "Lunar and Zikron, on the other hand, seem to misunderstand the importance of alliances," added Krys Dantes with a tone of feigned innocence, though the venom of provocation was palpable. "Isn't that fundamental in trials like these?"
Azhel, who had remained silent until now, suddenly turned his attention to the last combatants he had just observed.
— "Lunar's opponent…" he asked abruptly, ignoring Krys's jab. "What family is he from? I might consider bringing him into my empire. He seems eager to follow Lunar, but that could change…"
Before anyone could respond, a cold, feminine, and perfectly mechanical voice echoed through the dome.
— "The first test is over. Test number two will begin in five minutes. Participants, take your positions."
The air grew heavier, as if a new wave of anxiety swept through the imperial families. Even the emperors straightened slightly in their seats, attentive to what was coming next.
Aeros, the artificial intelligence in charge of overseeing the exam, continued, indifferent to the palpable tension.
— "The theoretical test, deemed too complex for the children, will be replaced by a strategic trial. The trial will be 'The Game of the Four Kingdoms.'"
The elite families were stunned by the sudden change, but the Empress allowed herself an enigmatic smile. The turn of events was becoming truly interesting.
————-
In the organizers' room, a heavy silence had settled, so oppressive it seemed almost tangible.
— "Why did you change the exam?" exclaimed a man, slamming the desk beside him violently.
The sound echoed through the room, but the other man didn't flinch. He merely lifted a calm and cold gaze.
— "First of all, calm your energy and lower your voice when you speak to me." His voice was composed but firm.
A woman, attempting to diffuse the situation, spoke up, her tone filled with confusion:
— "Mr. Aaron, could you at least explain why Aeros changed the rules of the exam?"
She didn't understand. No one here understood why, all of a sudden, the theoretical exam had been replaced with such a brutal trial.
Aaron Stelar. That name echoed through the seven empires like a legend. Known as "The Prophet," he was a figure both respected and feared. His long black hair fell down his back, framing sharp hazel eyes. His face, with soft and slightly feminine features, contrasted sharply with his imposing build.
He fixed the young woman with an intensity that evaporated any hesitation, then answered:
— "Listen, I'm sure you've all seen the battle royales, haven't you?"
The staff nodded, almost mechanically.
— "Good. So now, haven't you noticed that they're abnormally strong?"
A murmur rippled through the room. One examiner, perplexed, dared to voice what many were quietly thinking:
— "It's true that this generation is much stronger than the last, but is that enough to suddenly change the exam?"
Other heads nodded in agreement. The atmosphere was tense, each question hanging in the air like a doubt impossible to dispel.
Aaron looked at them all, his eyes carrying a glint they couldn't decipher. He shook his head slightly and sighed before declaring:
— "I wasn't the one who changed the rules. Aeros did it himself."
A chilling silence fell over the room before it shattered like a storm.
— "What? Are you telling us that the artificial intelligence did this on its own?" the examiner exclaimed, visibly shocked.
Aaron, still calm, replied in the same even tone:
— "Yes. You seem to forget that Aeros has its own consciousness. It's capable of making this kind of decision by itself. It's thanks to it that most of the world's knowledge exists."
Nervous murmurs rose in the room. Glances were exchanged—some filled with doubt, others with restrained anger.
— "Four of the seven emperors are gathered here today, and the exam is being broadcast on every screen in the world. How are we supposed to explain this?"
The young woman's remark sent a shiver through the room. Everyone knew how critical the situation was. But Aaron, unshakable, barely turned his eyes away from the giant hologram projecting the exam images.
With an almost unsettling nonchalance, he declared:
— "We'll tell them that Aeros is beginning to wake up."
The people in the room froze, their shoulders tense, but they nodded in unison, like a single body. Even though some showed obvious discontent, no one dared to oppose him. Because here, Aaron was in charge. His words were law.
————-
Zikron stood before Ester, who remained seated, frustration clearly visible on his face. With a warm smile, Zikron broke the heavy silence that surrounded them.
— "Listen, the test is over. I don't know why you're glaring at me, but I sense potential in you," he said, his voice vibrating with unwavering energy.
Ester retorted, anger boiling within him:
— "It's easy to say that after you crushed my strategy. If you hadn't been there, I could've proven that I'm not useless. You, geniuses, I hate you! You have everything, and you train as if it's your right. Us ordinary people are left behind."
Zikron listened, his gaze fixed on him with an unexpected intensity.
— "What makes you think I'm a genius?" he shot back, a spark of challenge in his eyes. "There's no one like me. Geniuses are everywhere, but I'm unique. And believe me, I see a spark in you."
Ester froze, surprised by Zikron's disarming confidence. How could he see something of value in him? The hatred he carried slowly evaporated, replaced by a bitter laugh.
— "I'm not a genius."
— "You're underestimating yourself," Zikron replied, determination clear on his face. "You want to prove your worth? Stop looking for excuses. Blame me if you want, but look deep inside yourself."
He extended his hand, inviting him to cross an invisible boundary.
— "What if you prove all of that in the strategic test? Let's team up. We could crush anyone together. You can shine as much as you want, but it'll be by my side. What do you think?"
Ester hesitated, perplexed. The others had always avoided him because of his sinister look; the orphanage had never been a place for friendship. But right now, Zikron was offering him a hand that didn't seem to judge him.
Timidly but resolutely, he took Zikron's hand.
— "Let's crush them."
A brilliant smile lit up Zikron's face. He then turned to the other eight participants, a new energy in his demeanor.
— "The next test will be the Kingdoms' trial. We'll probably be on the same team. Let's get to know each other," he declared, his voice vibrating with enthusiasm.
In that exchange, Ester felt a glimmer of hope. Next to Zikron, he began to imagine that his solitude could give way to an unexpected camaraderie, an alliance formed in adversity. This moment sparked an ambition he had never dared to imagine.
Zikron stood facing Ester, observing him with his usual smile.
— "The trial will begin in five seconds, the candidates will be teleported."
The next instant, a sensation of emptiness twisted in his stomach, a familiar shiver from the teleportation. When he opened his eyes, he found himself inside the courtyard of a castle. Around him, the other participants appeared, Ester among them. Before anyone could react, a notification rang through the room, followed by the cold voice of Aeros:
— "Welcome to the 4 Kingdoms trial. The trial will last two hours. Here are the rules..."
Trial Mechanics:
Team Distribution:
Four teams are formed, each with a starting bastion and basic resources. A leader is appointed to guide the team.
Main Objective:
Destroy or capture the enemy bastions within 2 hours. Each bastion taken earns points. A team is eliminated if it loses its bastion or all of its members.
Capture of Strategic Points:
Several key points in the arena offer advantages (weapons, food, traps). Teams must choose the most important ones.
Resource Management:
Each team must manage its members and resources to protect their bastion, attack, or capture points.
Random Events:
Every 30 minutes, events disrupt the arena: storms, attacking creatures, or sabotage.
Alliances and Betrayals:
Temporary alliances can form, but betrayal is common and strategic.
Final Phase (90-120 minutes):
Remaining bastions are in danger. Creatures become more aggressive, and each team must choose between defense or attack to win.
Zikron listened half-heartedly, his eyes drifting over the faces around him. Some were recognizable, children from powerful families, others just nameless faces. His thoughts wandered, but Aeros's voice continued, outlining the trial mechanics: bastions, control points, resources. It was a battlefield disguised as a game.
At the end of the explanation, Zikron placed a hand on Ester's shoulder.
— "I'll let you handle this," he said with a smile.
— "I'll see who wants to be the commander."
Ester looked at him in surprise.
— "You should be the one leading. Why let them choose?"
Zikron shook his head with calm assurance.
— "My father says that a true leader is the one chosen by those he leads, not the other way around."
His eyes shone with deep pride, the kind only those born into high circles could understand, but in him, there was more. A rare sincerity.
Ester sighed, visibly annoyed but intrigued.
— "Do whatever you want," he muttered, before turning away to continue reading the rules, his mind elsewhere.
Around them, the other participants had overheard. Zikron stepped into the center of the room.
— "We have five minutes to choose a leader. Do you want to vote, or how do we handle this?"
A murmur spread through the crowd. Some were wary, others impressed. But slowly, as though responding to an invisible force, ten participants stepped forward. Children, like the rest, but their posture betrayed something more: natural representatives, those who, even in silence, commanded respect.
Zikron observed them one by one, with a smile that said everything and nothing at once. He didn't know them all, but that didn't matter. This was just the beginning, and the real trial was starting now.
Ester, still beside him, met his gaze. He wasn't sure what he saw in Zikron's eyes. Respect? Arrogance? Or perhaps... a glimmer of camaraderie.