Scene 1: The Arena Stirs with Anticipation
The coliseum stood at its peak—a grand, high-tech arena where thousands gathered to witness the greatest warriors of their generation clash. Massive holographic screens floated above, displaying the battlefield from every angle. The tension in the air was thick, an electric storm of emotions from spectators, competitors, and elite figures watching from their high podiums.
Among the figures in the observation deck, Vice Principal Avantika Rao sat with an impassive expression, flanked by Raghuvaran, Kalendra Tetsuro, and Rajan Awasthi. Even the typically jovial Rajan had grown quiet, his sharp eyes locked onto the battlefield.
Down on the fighting grounds, the remains of previous battles littered the field. Deep craters, scorched trenches, and cracked stone slabs served as reminders of the battles fought before. And now, it was Armaan Malik's turn.
💥 Standing at one end of the battlefield, battered but unbroken, was Armaan Malik.
His uniform was torn, blood seeped from gashes across his arms and torso, and his knuckles were swollen from relentless combat. Yet, his breathing remained steady. His dark, determined eyes burned with unwavering resolve. He had pushed past his limits already, but he knew—this wasn't enough.
Across from him, standing with an eerie calm and an unshaken aura of dominance, was his opponent.
💥 Kaiser Valken – The Phantom Swordsman.
The number one first-year of Vritra Dominion Academy, a swordsman so precise he was known to slice through raindrops mid-fall.
His presence alone made the battlefield feel heavier.
His hair—long, raven-black, tied into a loose ponytail—swayed slightly in the faint wind. His piercing steel-gray eyes remained cold, void of emotion.
His uniform, unlike Armaan's, was pristine. The sleeveless combat gi was laced with black plating on the shoulders and forearms, but his weapon was what made the crowd tremble.
Sheathed at his waist was his katana—Kuroshin.
A blade so thin and sharp, it was almost invisible to the naked eye when swung at full speed.
Kaiser had no wasted movements, no wasted breath. His posture alone was a declaration of superiority.
He tilted his head, assessing Armaan with a casual glance. "You've done well to make it this far."
Armaan wiped the blood from his lips, his breath labored but his voice steady.
"I'm not done yet."
The announcer's voice boomed through the coliseum.
MATCH BEGIN!
Scene 2: The Phantom Blade vs. The Smoke Warrior
Kaiser disappeared.
In less than a blink—BOOM!
Armaan barely reacted before a thin, blinding silver flash whistled toward him.
A sword swing too fast to register.
Instinct took over.
Armaan ducked—barely.
SHINK!
A deep slash appeared on his shoulder, the blood spraying mid-air before he could even process the cut.
Kaiser stood already behind him, his katana now resting casually on his shoulder. His movements were effortless.
"You're fast," Kaiser admitted. "But your smoke won't save you forever."
Armaan gritted his teeth. His heart pounded violently.
I can't keep up.
He's too fast.
I need… more power.
Then it happened.
Scene 3: The Evolution – Armaan's Level 1 Awakening
Inside Armaan's body, something shattered.
A floodgate burst open—not just of hybrid energy but something more primal, more raw.
His hybrid core pulsed violently.
His blood felt like liquid fire.
His breath came ragged and sharp, but deep in his mind, a switch flipped.
Then—absolute silence.
The First Change – The Micro-Exhaust System
Time slowed to an unbearable crawl.
Tiny, microscopic holes, no larger than the point of a pin, opened across his body—across his forearms, shoulders, spine, and calves.
These were not mere openings—they were high-pressure exhaust vents, thrusters woven into his very being.
As he exhaled, smoke erupted violently from every vent, creating propulsion so powerful it cracked the ground beneath him.
He didn't just move. He warped.
The Second Change – The Phantom Blades
From his forearms, two sleek black blades extended, shimmering between solid and vapor.
These weren't mere weapons. They were extensions of his smoke, sharper than steel, able to phase between states—slashing through armor and flesh alike.
Each movement left behind ghostly afterimages.
He was now the smoke.
The Third Change – The Exo-Armor Adaptation
His chest expanded, his shoulders broadened.
Segmented exoskeletal armor materialized across his torso—lightweight, sleek, built for speed.
A deep, dark silver-gray, marked with thin glowing lines, pulsing with hybrid energy.
His fingers sharpened slightly, reinforced to tear through defenses.
The Final Change – The Smoke Engine Wings
Then—the finishing touch.
From his back—two jagged, bladed wings unfurled.
Not made of feathers or flesh, but of pure smoke energy, reinforced with hybrid force.
They flared violently, scattering dust and debris.
With every burst of movement, they fired concentrated propulsion, allowing him to maneuver like a missile mid-air.
His very being had become a weapon.
Armaan's eyes snapped open.