Anna pushed open the door to their dorm room with her shoulder, letting it swing shut behind her. The latch clicked like a tired sigh. She crossed the small space in three steps and collapsed face-first onto her bed, the mattress groaning under her weight.
"Another stressful day," she muttered into the pillow.
Silence settled for a long moment. Then, quieter: "Hope Koya's okay. She's been locked away with them since yesterday."
The Golden Tower.
Stood at the heart of the academy like a blade thrust into the sky—tall, unyielding, its spire catching the last gold of the afternoon sun. Inside the sealed chamber at its peak, Ikua's arm floated within a lattice of glowing runes, suspended in a perfect circle of light.
The runes flickered once, twice—then dimmed to nothing.
The Iron Elder exhaled sharply. "So it's the actual item?"
The Golden Guardian nodded, eyes never leaving the weapon. "Yes. No doubt. It's saturated with divine energy. Pure. Ancient. Unmistakable."
The four elders and the Guardian stood in heavy silence. No one moved to touch it. The air felt thicker, as though the room itself remembered what war felt like.
Koya sat alone in a small antechamber deeper in the tower. Bare stone walls, one narrow window high above, a single chair. She had been here for hours—maybe a full day. Time blurred when no one spoke to you.
The door opened without a knock.
She stood quickly and bowed.
The Golden Guardian stepped inside, robes whispering against the floor. She regarded Koya for a moment, then spoke softly.
"Stand, child of the dawn."
She placed a hand on koya's shoulder—warm, steady.
"Koya… as for the weapon."
She waited.
"We have confirmed it. The arm of Ikua has chosen you. But the world outside these walls is not ready for that truth. Not yet."
Koya's throat tightened. "So what happens now?"
"For now, you remain here. Protected. We will speak again soon."
She walked toward the tower's exit in silence, Ikua's arm wrapped in plain cloth and slung across her back like an ordinary training staff. The weight pulled at her shoulders, familiar now, almost comforting.
Third test and still no flow, she thought as she stepped into daylight. But wow… a god's weapon chose me. Just… wow.
From the far side of the courtyard, she spotted Cal. He stood with two older figures—his parents, she realized. Tall, well-dressed, the kind of people who carried authority without trying. They spoke briefly, hands on his shoulders, then turned and walked away toward the elder quarters.
Cal saw her. His face brightened, and he jogged over.
"Those your parents?" Koya asked.
"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Just congratulating me on the bow. 'We always knew you'd become a great warrior, son.' Wish I could trade it in."
Koya let out a small, calm laugh. "What happened to 'I'll leave tomorrow's problem to tomorrow-me'?"
"Yeah, yeah…" He grinned sheepishly, then studied her face. "So… you're smiling. Things went well?"
"Not really." She looked down at the wrapped bundle on her back. "I'm totally confused. Lost. Even the council doesn't have answers. But what's the point of being sad? Smile and hope for good results, right?"
Cal stared at her for a long moment. Then he smiled—soft, real.
"Guess you're right."
They walked together toward the dorms, shoulders brushing now and then, conversation light and easy. For a few minutes the weight on her back felt lighter.
Koya stepped into the dorm room. Anna looked up from her bed.
"Welcome back, roomie."
Koya managed a real smile this time.
Next morning.
The academy buzzed.
Students and others streamed toward the Golden Tower in waves—laughter, speculation, the low hum of excitement.
A wide stage had been erected at the tower's base. The Golden Guardian stood at its center, robes catching the sun like molten gold.
"Welcome, people of the Golden Globe," she called, voice carrying without effort. "Another beautiful and bright day."
The crowd cheered.
"A few days ago was the First Choice Ceremony. New battle and support flow users were chosen. Our forces have grown stronger once more. And as always—we do not increase our strength to start a war. We prepare for one."
More cheers—louder.
"And that said… in one month's time we have our Flow Bound!"
The crowd erupted.
"Yes—every new battle and support flow user will face each other in the arena. To show your growth in training. To prove the strength of the new generation!"
Koya stood near the back, hood pulled low, face half-hidden in shadow. Anna pressed close behind her.
"I still think the whole disguise is unnecessary," Anna muttered.
"It is necessary," Koya whispered back. "Last thing I need is Ra'an spotting me and starting crap. Or anyone else suffocating me with questions."
The Golden Guardian raised a hand for silence.
"And as for the rumors spreading about a student wielding Ikua's arm… they are false. A blacksmith created a replica, hoping it could generate divine power. Sadly, it did not. The weapon is like any other item—ordinary."
A ripple of disappointment and relief moved through the crowd.
Koya and Anna slipped away as people began to disperse.
Two girls passed them, voices careless.
"I knew it was fake."
"Yeah. A flowless loser like Koya couldn't ever be graced by something like that."
Koya's body went cold. The words landed like a slap she hadn't braced for.
Anna's hand found her shoulder, firm.
"Koya… those girls are talking rubbish. They don't know anything about how great you are."
Koya forced a smile. "Thank you for—"
The Golden Guardian's voice cut through her mind—clear, gentle, urgent.
Koya…
She flinched, heart jumping.
"Sorry—" she said to Anna. "It's the Golden Guardian. She needs me in the tower."
The office at the top of the tower smelled of old parchment and faint incense. The Guardian stood by the window, looking out over the academy grounds.
"Welcome, Koya. Sorry for the psychic intrusion."
"Don't worry," she said. "It's totally fine."
The golden guardian turned and smiled—small, tired.
"That's good."
She walked to a low pedestal where Ikua's arm rested, unwrapped now, runes dull in the daylight.
She lifted it carefully and offered it to koya.
"Koya… as you know everything I said in my speech was forced. This is the real Ikua's arm."
"But how? I'm flowless and—"
She held up a hand. "Presently, I don't have answers. But what I do know is your next move."
She placed the weapon in koya's hands. The moment her fingers closed around it, a faint warmth spread up her arms—not painful, just… present.
"Learn how to use it," the golden guardian said. "Become one with it. In due time, the purpose of it being with you will reveal itself."
Koya stared at her, calm on the surface, storm inside.
The weapon felt lighter now. Almost eager.
She nodded once.
To be continued...