Six hours ago.
The massive training facility, its high glass windows framing the morning sun, was alive with restless energy. Golden light poured in, streaking across polished floors and illuminating every tense face. The vast space buzzed with anticipation, the air thick with unspoken competition and the faint echo of murmured conversations.
Angelica stood at the edge of the arena, her frame relaxed yet commanding. She leaned against a marble pillar, her emerald eyes sharp and unyielding as they swept over the gathering.
The loose strands of her brown hair caught the sunlight, softening the severity of her expression, though nothing could dull the focus in her gaze. Her attire was an immaculate blue shirt adorned with the academy's insignia and tailored cream pants,
They whispered as she looked on, voices dropping to near silence. One student elbowed another, straightening under her watchful eyes. A ripple of apprehension and admiration passed through the crowd as if her glance alone weighed and measured their worth.
Yet Angelica gave no indication she noticed, her expression calm and unreadable.
At the center of the arena, Mathew's voice cut through the din, commanding attention as he laid out the rules with the practiced cadence of a seasoned instructor.
At opposite ends of the facility, Kiara and David moved with quiet vigilance, their eyes scanning the edges of the space, ready for the unexpected.
Angelica stayed motionless, observing the scene with a quiet intensity. The unfolding preparations played out before her like a well rehearsed performance, every movement noted.
A hint of a smile ghosted across her lips as a particularly nervous student fumbled with their stance. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving her as unreadable as ever a still point in the midst of a brewing storm.
The audience hummed with a mix of excitement and restless energy, their eyes locked on the two figures who stood at the center of the arena.
The first was a striking figure, his raven-black hair falling in sharp angles around his face. Standing tall at 5'11", his toned frame was wrapped in a form-fitting black training suit, the fabric stretched taut over the muscles of his arms and chest.
He wielded a long sword with effortless grace, his posture poised like a dancer, his presence almost otherworldly. His dark eyes gleamed towards the figure that stood before him.
Slightly shorter at 5'10", His blonde hair, swept back from his forehead, glinted in the sunlight as his strong jawline caught the light. Brown eyes, warm yet sharp, scanned the one in front of him, assessing every detail with a quiet focus.
His broad shoulders and muscular build were accentuated by the black training suit he wore, the fabric clinging to his frame, showcasing the power that lay beneath.
He held a War Hammar, ready to strike, but there was a calmness to him an assurance that didn't need to be announced, only understood.
"Aaron Solarius and Thane Eldrath get ready" Mathew who stood beside both Announced
Thane was the blonde boy powerful, charismatic, and on a clear trajectory toward greatness.
The crowd buzzed with his name, their voices filled with admiration and anticipation.
"Thane"
"Thane"
"Thane's going to crush him," someone said.
"Of course he is. It's Aaron."
The remark drew snickers and scoffs.
"Thane"
"Thane, I love you!"
"..."
"Dude you are a guy"
"..."
"Thane, Thane, Thane…."
"..."
***
Aaron got into stance eyes narrowing as he saw Thane approach, Thane stopped in front of him, his expression a mixture of excitement and something else,
A strange intensity that Aaron couldn't quite place.
"This is our first fight," Thane said, his voice smooth,
Thane extended his hand, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"I've been waiting for this for eleven months. It's like something was keeping us apart, but now? Let's have a blast."
To the onlookers, it seemed like a simple gesture of sportsmanship, a sign of mutual respect before the clash.
But to Aaron, there was something off about it, like it was too deliberate, too... purposeful
Aaron didn't know what Thane's aspect was, but he had some idea of what it does and that's all. He didn't know anything else about Thane's aspect.
As he looked at Thane's hand, a thought crossed his mind: touch might be a factor in activating his aspect.
Aaron hesitated, his eyes flicking between Thane's hand and his face.
Did he come to me to touch me and trigger his aspect on me before the fight started?
He shook his head, dismissing the thought.
No, Mathew's right there. If Thane activated his aspect, Mathew would notice. He'd stop it.
Mathew, positioned just off to the side, was already signaling them to get ready. Aaron's gaze lingered on Thane's hand for a moment longer.
It seemed like everyone else around them saw it as just a simple, friendly gesture, but Aaron's mind raced with doubt.
Finally, he reached out and shook Thane's hand, the connection brief but electric.
***
Thane Eldrath, heir to the illustrious House Eldrath, one of the Nine Great Houses of the Human Domain, had been raised to pursue greatness with every breath and to claim victory with every action, Nothing else mattered.
Yet, when he entered the pre-academy, the unshakable focus on becoming Number One faltered.
The cause was Adrian Wilson. Adrian, the undisputed pinnacle of their peers, cast a long shadow over even the most ambitious heirs of the great houses.
But Thane did not waver long. His hunger for strength and his unrelenting drive to face powerful opponents pushed him forward. He trained endlessly to stand as the number 1. His every action and thiughts was to to defeat Adrain.
However, Aaron was a different story. At first, Thane had no strong opinion of him. The whispers were clear: "Embarrassment. Failure. Dead weight."
Yet, when Thane saw Aaron in battle, everything changed. The sharp, honed precision of Aaron's movements stirred something primal within Thane, a recognition of a kindred spirit.
The useless rumors disintegrated like ash. Aaron was no failure; he was the embodiment of a beast, and Thane could not ignore the fire that flared in his own chest at the sight.
He waited for the day he could face Aaron in combat.
Thane's aspect, Weaver of Burdens, thrived on the fears and sins of others, feeding its power and warping the gravity of the sins around him.
For now, it lets him manipulate the weight of objects he touches or amplify the gravity in his vicinity.
The intensity depended on the weight of the emotions of fear and sins that he could draw from his opponent. And Aaron? Thane could only imagine what lay beneath that stoic surface.
Now, at last, the day has come.
"This is our first fight," Thane said, his voice smooth, steady.
He extended his hand, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"I've been waiting for this for eleven months. It's like something was keeping us apart, but now? Let's have a blast."
Aaron shook his hand. The touch sent a thrill through Thane.
Let's see the weight of your fears, and sins.
Thane thought as he activated his aspect.
Suddenly, the world disappeared.
Thane blinked, finding himself in an endless white void.
What's happening? Where am I?
The air trembled, rippling violently as thick, viscous energy seeped through the space.
It radiated a crushing, overwhelming power, so immense it felt like his body would collapse under its weight.
The energy leaked from all sides, barely contained, and the pressure squeezed the air from his lungs.
A sickening sensation washed over him, as though fluid were pouring from his pores, his very being unraveling.
The space trembled again, rupturing as the energy surged outward.
And then, with a violent jolt, Thane senses hurled back into the real world. He layed on the ground gasping for breath, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.
The ground beneath him was slick with the fluids he had released, sweat, bile, and worse spilled in his sudden, uncontainable agony.
Blood seeped from his pores, trickling down in thin, crimson streams, mingling with the other fluids that stained his once-pristine form.
His limbs shook violently, refusing to obey him, and his body felt as though it had been ripped apart and barely stitched back together.