The double doors of the Grand Hall hissed shut behind them, cutting off the suffocating silence of the testing floor. Vane walked with a steady, rhythmic pace, his boots clicking against the polished obsidian tiles of the corridor. Nora scrambled to keep up with him, her eyes still darting back toward the doors as if she expected the Impact Lead block to explode at any moment.
"You know, showing off like that is a great way to put a massive target on your back," Nora said, her voice light and playful despite the chaos they had just left. She skipped a step to get ahead of him, walking backward so she could look at his face. "If I am going to guide you through your first year here, you have to actually try to blend in. You have to play the part of a regular Kith, Vane. That means no more shattering crystals or treating reinforced metal like warm butter. Do not go causing trouble on your first day."
Vane did not pay her any mind at first, his gaze fixed straight ahead. "I do not know why these silly tests are needed if we already know what I am," he said flatly. "It is a waste of time. I need to find a way to graduate early so I can fulfill my purpose. I did not come here to be a student. I came here to find the ones who took everything."
Nora stopped skipping and fell back into step beside him, her expression turning a bit more serious. "Speaking of tests, the Dean and the Proctor kind of lied back there. There is actually one final part to the evaluation. It is a sparring test. Everyone has to participate to see how they handle real pressure."
Vane stopped walking. He turned his head slowly, his dark eyes meeting hers. "I will not be participating. There is no point. I do not need to be there. I do not think I would win."
Nora let out a soft laugh, leaning against a nearby pillar. "You have to, Vane. It is mandatory for your placement. Besides," she added, her tone shifting into a bit of a tease, her voice almost glazing him with admiration, "you probably do not even realize it, but you are like so strong. You are like a force of nature walking around in a school uniform. I have seen Vanguards with ten years of field experience who could not put a dent in that metal. You are something else entirely."
A sharp, mocking scoff echoed from the shadows of a connecting hallway.
"A force of nature? Please. He is a lucky fluke with a weird bloodline."
A tall, broad shouldered student stepped into the light. He wore the silver trimmed blazer of a third year, his skin already shimmering with a faint, oily reflection of the overhead lights. His hair was cropped short, and he carried himself with the practiced arrogance of someone who had spent three years at the top of the food chain. This was Kaelen.
"I saw what happened in there," Kaelen said, walking toward them with a predatory grace. "The machines at this school are old. They glitch. You hitting that block was a mechanical failure, nothing more. You look like a Dead Link to me, Obsidian. Your just a fake."
Nora stepped forward, her hand moving toward the hilt of her practice blade. "Back off, Kaelen. He is under General Kaine's personal oversight. You do not want this fight."
Kaelen ignored her, his eyes locked on Vane, who had not even turned his body to face him. "A third year like me does not take orders from a first year guide. If he is so strong, he will show it in the sparring ring. Or is the little transfer student afraid he will break another toy?"
Vane finally looked at him, his expression shifting into something more distant and rhythmic. "I am not afraid of breaking the toy," Vane said quietly. "I am afraid of the song the glass sings when the person holding it shatters into a thousand memories."
Kaelen laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "We will see about that, transfer. See you in the ring." He turned and walked away, his shoulders tense with a need to prove himself.
Nora sighed, rubbing her temples as she watched him disappear. "Great. Just great. You have been here for two hours and you already have a third year wanting to take your head off. You really do not know how to stay in the shadows, do you?"
She took a breath and moved closer to Vane as they resumed walking. "That was Kaelen of the Carbonite bloodline. His family has provided the Academy's armor and structural reinforcement for generations. They think they are the literal foundation of this school. That is why he is so arrogant. He thinks his skin is the only thing in this world that cannot be broken."
"He is loud," Vane remarked, his voice becoming a slow current. "But even the loudest thunder is just a scream before the rain washes it away."
Nora followed him, a worried look on her face. "Kaelen is not just loud. He is one of the top strikers in the junior division. His Kith allows him to harden his skin into diamond grade carbon. Even if you are strong, hitting him is like hitting a mountain. He has not lost a single spar since his first year. He has been in twelve total spars, which is the third most in the entire school."
Vane slowed his pace, a brief flicker of interest crossing his features. "Oh? Third? Who is above him, and where do you rank?"
"The top two are currently on a field mission," Nora explained. "They are the only ones with more experience. Rank one has won twenty four spars and rank two has won twenty. Neither of them has ever lost. And me? I am rank seven. I have had nine spars, and I have only lost once."
"A mountain is only tall until the earth decides to swallow it," Vane replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon.
Nora stopped in her tracks, blinking at him in genuine confusion. "Were you like a poet in your past life or something? You talk like you are reading from a scroll."
Vane did not answer. He just kept walking.
They reached the combat pavilion, a massive circular arena with a floor made of sand and pulverized glass. Hundreds of students were gathered in the stands, the air buzzing with the sound of kinetic shields activating. Vane and Nora took their places on the sidelines. The atmosphere was electric with anticipation as the first few matches began.
The first match was a quick display of pyrotechnics between two second years. One student conjured whips of liquid fire while the other countered with a skin made of cooling frost. It was over in minutes, the fire wielder yielding when the frost began to numb his joints.
The second match featured a girl who could manipulate sound waves. She stood in the center of the ring, her hands vibrating so fast they blurred. Her opponent, a large boy with metallic skin, tried to charge her, but she sent a concentrated blast of high frequency sound into his chest that sent him flying backward into the safety nets.
The third match was a more technical display of swordsmanship enhanced by Kith. Both participants moved with a speed that left trails of light in the air, their blades clashing with the sound of ringing bells. The crowd roared with every strike, enjoying the spectacle of high level training.
Finally, the Proctor stepped back into the center of the ring, his eyes scanning the list on his tablet. The air grew still as he looked toward the section where Vane was standing.
"Vane Obsidian," the Proctor called out, his voice amplified by the room's acoustics. "Since you have bypassed the standard ranking, you will conclude today's session with an exhibition match. Step into the ring."
Vane looked at the sand. He looked at his hands. He felt the black ink of his blood pulsing slowly in his veins, heavy and hungry.
"Go on," Nora whispered, giving him a small nudge. "Just try not to kill him, okay? I have enough paperwork as it is."
Vane stepped over the railing and dropped into the pit. Across from him, Kaelen was already waiting, having entered from the opposite side. His skin was already transforming into a faceted, translucent armor that caught the light like a gemstone. The third year cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing like stones hitting each other.
"I am going to show everyone what a real S rank looks like," Kaelen growled, dropping into a low combat stance.
Vane just stood there. His arms hung loosely at his sides. He did not take a stance. He did not power up. He just watched the way the light reflected off Kaelen's diamond skin, finding the tiny fractures that existed in every structure.
"The test is simple," the Proctor announced, raising a hand. "The match ends when one participant can no longer fight or yields. Begin."
Kaelen did not wait. He exploded forward, his feet kicking up clouds of glass dust. He was a blur of refracted light, his fist pulled back for a blow that could shatter a concrete wall.
Vane did not move until the fist was inches from his face.