I. The Aftermath of the Battle
The smoldering ruins of the fortress exhaled plumes of smoke and dust, the echoes of collapsing stone finally fading into an uneasy silence. The battlefield, once a cacophony of clashing steel and monstrous screeches, was now a graveyard, littered with the fallen.
Raj's muscles screamed in protest, sweat stinging his eyes. He stood atop a jagged pillar, surveying the war-torn landscape. Their strategy had been brutal but effective—using the environment against the regenerating creatures, collapsing sections of the fortress to bury them alive.
But victory was a mirage.
The first true trial of the Earth Defense Exam had ruthlessly culled their numbers. Only the strongest, the cunning, the adaptable remained.
A massive holographic display flickered to life in the bruised sky, updating the grim tally.
[Total Participants: 2,000] → [Remaining: 783]
Raj's fists clenched. "Over half gone already."
Bruno, standing beside him, whistled low. "Damn. They weren't kidding about thinning the herd."
Ron, a few feet away, sheathed his Astra blade, his golden eyes still scanning the battlefield, alert. "And it's not over."
Raj followed his gaze. A new structure had risen from the rubble—a colossal circular arena, its perimeter ringed by towering metal barriers.
A fresh message blazed across the sky.
[Final Selection Begins in 6 Hours]
The real battle was about to begin.
II. The True Nature of the Exam is Revealed
A deep, mechanical hum vibrated through the battlefield, the air itself shimmering with an unseen energy that made Raj's skin crawl.
From the center of the arena, a colossal projection materialized—Supreme Commander Rayan, the EDF's most formidable warrior. His very presence radiated power, silencing the battlefield with a single glance. Even Ron, usually impassive, straightened slightly.
Rayan's voice boomed across the ravaged landscape. "To those of you who still stand, congratulations. You have survived the first culling." His gaze swept over them, cold and assessing, like a hawk eyeing its prey. "But survival is not enough. Warriors are not forged in comfort—they are tempered in the fires of war. And now, we will discover which of you are truly worthy."
The holographic map shifted, zooming in on the imposing arena. "This is the Final Selection Arena. In six hours, all remaining candidates will enter. Only those who prove themselves will advance to the final stage of the Exam."
Raj's eyes narrowed. Another battle? No. This feels different.
Bruno clicked his tongue. "I don't like the sound of 'prove themselves.' What exactly do they have planned?"
Rayan continued, his voice resonating with authority. "The next trial is not simply about strength. It is about dominance."
The hologram shifted again, revealing two starkly contrasting ranks.
[Preliminary Ranks: 1-200] – Safe Zone
[Ranks 201-783] – Elimination Zone
Raj's jaw tightened. They're dividing us.
Rayan's voice remained chillingly calm. "The top 200 candidates have secured their place in the final stage."
"The rest of you?" His eyes, visible even in the projection, darkened. "You will fight for your right to exist."
The battlefield exploded in a cacophony of panicked shouts.
III. The Division – Strength vs. Desperation
Instantly, warriors scrambled to check their rankings.
Raj, Bruno, and Ron remained motionless as their numbers updated.
Raj Aryan – Rank: 198
Bruno – Rank: 210
Ron – Rank: 57
Raj exhaled slowly. Barely inside the safe zone.
Bruno, however, cursed viciously. "Damn it! I'm in the elimination zone."
Ron remained silent, but Raj could feel the tension radiating from him.
The warriors in the Safe Zone were already moving, creating distance between themselves and those ranked below them.
And those in the Elimination Zone? Their eyes burned with desperation, their gazes locked on those above them. Six hours. Six hours to change their fate.
Raj glanced at Bruno. "You need to move."
Bruno scowled. "No shit, Sherlock. I have six hours to climb ten spots, or I'm out."
"And the only way to do that is by taking down someone ranked above me."
Raj's fists clenched. They're forcing us to turn on each other.
Ron finally spoke, his voice flat. "This isn't about skill anymore."
"It's about survival."
IV. The Betrayals Begin
As the implications sank in, the first skirmishes erupted. Across the battlefield, temporary alliances dissolved into brutal betrayals. A group of five, who had fought together just moments before, imploded as two members turned on their comrades, seizing their higher ranks. A lone warrior, perched on a high vantage point, used a ranged Astra technique to snipe two weakened recruits, instantly boosting his own ranking. A squad of heavily armored fighters formed a tight defensive circle, methodically eliminating solo targets to climb the ladder.
Raj's stomach churned. This isn't a battle. This is a purge.
Bruno tensed beside him. "I need to move. Now."
Raj knew the truth. If he didn't let Bruno go, he'd become a target himself. He met Bruno's gaze. "Don't die."
Bruno grinned, a flash of his old bravado. "Same to you, strategist."
And then—he was gone, melting into the chaos.
Raj turned to Ron. "What are you going to do?"
Ron's golden eyes remained cold. "I don't need to fight anymore. But I'll watch."
Raj understood. Ron would observe, studying the warriors who would ultimately reach the final stage.
Raj, however, faced a different dilemma. He was Rank 198. Barely safe. And there were warriors below him who would kill for his spot.
The hunt was coming for him.
V. The First Challenger – The Test of Rank
Raj had barely moved when he heard the voice. "Raj Aryan."
He turned slowly.
A warrior stood before him, tall and imposing, clad in an Astra-enhanced exosuit. His rank flashed above him—Rank 215.
"I'm taking your spot."
Raj's eyes hardened. He wasn't afraid. He wasn't going to run. He had spent his life fighting opponents stronger than him.
If this was what it took to survive—Then I'll show them why I belong here.
Raj squared his shoulders, stepping forward.
"Try it."
The battle for survival had begun.
I. The Challenger Approaches
Raj's heartbeat echoed a steady rhythm in his ears, his breath a controlled flow of air in and out of his lungs. He had faced countless opponents in the brutal training grounds of the Gurukul, learning to fight with honed instinct and precision, relying on skill rather than the crutch of Astra. But this was different. This wasn't just a sparring match; it was a fight for survival, a test of his resolve against the unforgiving reality of the Earth Defense Exam.
His challenger, Kieran, Rank 215, stood before him, a hulking figure encased in an Astra-enhanced exosuit that hummed with contained power. The warrior's broad shoulders and imposing physique spoke of raw strength, further amplified by the glowing kinetic energy that crackled around his right gauntlet.
"You're ranked 198," Kieran stated, his voice laced with a casual confidence that bordered on arrogance. "That means I need to take your place."
Raj cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders as he assessed his opponent. Thick armor plating covered Kieran's arms and chest, promising formidable defense. Kinetic boosters embedded in his boots hinted at enhanced speed. But the bulky suit also suggested limited flexibility, a potential weakness to exploit.
He's built for brute force, Raj thought, his eyes narrowing. But power means nothing if you can't land a hit.
He took a step forward, his gaze unwavering. "Then take it."
Kieran's smirk widened. "Gladly."
II. The First Clash – Power vs. Precision
Kieran exploded into motion, his kinetic thrusters roaring as he propelled himself forward with astonishing speed. His armored fist shot towards Raj's ribs, aiming to crush him with a single, devastating blow.
Raj reacted instantly, his years of training ingrained in his reflexes. He sidestepped the attack with a fluid twist of his body, the force of the near miss stirring the air around him, kicking up dust and loose pebbles.
Kieran didn't hesitate. His exosuit's AI recalibrated, the boosters firing again to reorient him mid-air.
Raj allowed himself a small smirk. Fast, but predictable. All straight lines and brute force.
Kieran lunged again, this time swinging from the left. Raj ducked low, weaving under the strike before planting his palm against Kieran's shoulder. With a sudden pivot, he used Kieran's own momentum against him, amplifying the force and sending the larger warrior stumbling forward.
Kieran skidded to a halt, his exosuit struggling to regain its balance. He scowled, his arrogance momentarily faltering. "Not bad."
Raj exhaled, his voice steady. "Not good enough."
III. Adapting to the Fight
Kieran charged again, this time with a hint of caution. He adjusted his trajectory mid-movement, forcing Raj to remain on the defensive.
But Raj had spent his life reading opponents, anticipating their moves, understanding the subtle language of combat. Kieran, reliant on his suit's predictive AI, expected Raj to react like any other Astra-enhanced warrior.
Raj refused to play by the script.
As Kieran launched another devastating punch, Raj did the unexpected—he stepped into the attack.
Kieran's eyes widened in surprise. Why is he getting closer?
Raj's body twisted, a blur of motion as he slipped beneath the strike. In one fluid movement, he delivered a brutal palm strike to the exposed joint of Kieran's shoulder armor.
A sharp crack echoed across the battlefield as Kieran's arm jerked unnaturally, his thruster sputtering and misfiring.
"Tch—what the—?" Kieran sputtered, his voice laced with disbelief.
Raj pressed his advantage. Before Kieran could recover, he shifted again, his knee slamming into the side of the warrior's ribs—the weakest point in the exosuit's plating.
Kieran staggered back, coughing in pain. His armor was strong, his boosters powerful, but Raj was exploiting the gaps, targeting the joints, the seams, the vulnerable points where metal met flesh.
Kieran growled, his pride wounded. "Alright. No more playing around."
His gauntlet flared with intensified energy, the power levels spiking dangerously.
Raj's muscles tensed. The warm-up is over. Now comes the real fight.
IV. The Final Blow – Strategy Over Power
Kieran unleashed the full force of his Astra charge.
His boots ignited with raw energy, the exosuit's limiters disengaging as he pushed his body beyond its normal capabilities. He became a blur, closing the distance with terrifying speed—too fast to completely evade.
Raj managed to partially deflect the blow, but Kieran's fist still clipped his shoulder, sending him flying backward. He twisted in mid-air, landing in a crouch, pain radiating through his arm. He pushed it down, refusing to let it distract him.
Kieran smirked, his confidence returning. "Now you're feeling it."
Raj exhaled slowly, centering himself. I can't keep dodging. Time to end this.
Kieran charged again, but Raj was already moving. At the last possible moment, instead of dodging, he stepped in close, pressing his entire body weight against the incoming attack.
The unexpected move disrupted Kieran's balance, throwing off his aim. His attack overshot its target.
It was all the opening Raj needed.
He twisted his legs, driving his knee directly into the center of Kieran's kinetic gauntlet.
CRACK.
The energy field around the gauntlet sputtered and pulsed erratically.
Raj seized Kieran's wrist, redirecting the unstable force downward.
BOOM.
Kieran's own attack detonated into the ground beneath him, sending shockwaves rippling through the ruins. The impact threw him off his feet, sending him crashing onto his back.
Raj didn't hesitate. He pressed his knee against Kieran's chest, his forearm pinning his neck to the ground.
"Yield."
Kieran's eyes widened in a mixture of shock, anger, and finally, grudging acceptance. His energy levels plummeted, and his body slumped in defeat.
"Fine."
A holographic notification materialized above them.
[Winner: Raj Aryan]
Kieran's rank plummeted, and Raj's climbed—Rank 197.
Raj exhaled, stepping back. "You fought well."
Kieran sat up, rubbing his bruised chest. "You fight like a damn machine."
Raj smirked. "I fight to win."
V. Bruno's Struggle in the Elimination Zone
While Raj had secured his position, Bruno was facing a far more precarious situation.
Somewhere in the heart of the chaotic battlefield, Bruno fought tooth and nail against two relentless opponents. His Astra-enhanced gloves crackled with energy as he weaved and bobbed, narrowly evading their attacks.
But he was losing ground.
His opponents—Rank 207 and Rank 209—had coordinated their assault, their relentless pressure slowly wearing him down.
Bruno spat blood, a defiant grin plastered across his face. "Damn. You guys actually hit hard."
One of the warriors smirked. "We're not here to play games. You're done."
Bruno wiped his mouth, his eyes burning with a fierce determination. "Not yet."
He lunged forward, gambling everything on one final counterattack.
VI. The Countdown to the Final Selection
The holographic countdown in the sky ticked relentlessly downward.
[1 Hour Until the Final Selection Begins]
Raj rolled his shoulders, ignoring the throbbing ache in his arm. He had survived this round, but the war was far from over. He looked towards the massive arena ahead, where the final stage of the Earth Defense Exam awaited.
The final 200 warriors would enter.
And only the strongest would emerge.