The Bronze Plate Trials
The journey to Aurion Citadel took seven days.
Seven days of walking across lands where the world seemed divided between two eras—rusted villages and towering highways of silent steel, abandoned drones hovering like ghosts, and distant patrol mechs scanning horizons that no longer trusted peace.
Tomas said little during the journey.
But his sons watched everything.
They were no longer just boys from Kaldera Fields.
They were stepping into a world that measured people not by who they were… but by what they could prove.
The City That Judges
Aurion Citadel rose like a monument to power.
Walls layered with defense grids. Towers lined with sentient sentries. Air traffic controlled by autonomous systems that hummed like a living organism.
The moment they entered, the difference was immediate.
People stared.
Not with admiration.
With doubt.
Tomas wore simple rural clothing. His prosthetic leg was visibly outdated. His sons carried no advanced weapons, no visible augmentations, no armor worthy of the city's standards.
They looked… ordinary.
And in a place like Aurion Citadel, ordinary meant weak.
The Gate of Entry
At the Bronze Plate Guild's main gate, a group of armored members stood guard—elite soldiers equipped with high-grade exo-suits and neural-linked weapons.
One of them stepped forward.
"State your purpose."
Tomas met his gaze calmly. "We've come to answer the call of succession."
A pause.
Then laughter.
Not loud.
But enough.
"You?" the guard said, scanning Tomas's prosthetic leg. "You can barely stand in modern combat, old man. And those kids…" he glanced at the sons, unimpressed, "…this isn't a training camp."
Daren clenched his fists.
Lio lowered his eyes, observing silently.
Soren didn't react—but his stare lingered longer than expected.
Tomas simply said, "We're here to be tested."
The guard hesitated, then signaled another member. "Let them in. The elders will enjoy this."
The Lower Ranks
Inside the guild, the family was processed like any other applicants.
No special treatment.
No recognition.
No acknowledgment of Tomas's past.
They were assigned to the lowest rank tier—a group of recruits composed of hopefuls, failures, and those trying to climb their way into relevance.
Whispers followed them immediately.
"Farmers…"
"Look at that leg…"
"They won't last a day…"
Some mocked openly.
Others smiled politely… then laughed when they turned away.
The Bronze Plate Guild had grown powerful.
But it had also grown proud.
The First Trial – Endurance Field
The first trial was simple in design, brutal in execution.
A massive training ground simulated unstable terrain—shifting platforms, gravity fluctuations, and hostile drones attacking from unpredictable angles.
Objective: survive for one hour.
No external assistance.
No advanced gear.
The recruits were released.
Chaos followed.
Some ran blindly.
Some tried to fight everything.
Most failed within minutes.
The Sons Begin
Daren took command instinctively. "Stay together."
Lio quickly analyzed the drone patterns. "They're not random—they cycle every twelve seconds!"
Soren moved without speaking, positioning himself where the attacks would converge.
Tomas… stayed back.
Watching.
Not intervening.
The Mockery Continues
From the observation deck above, higher-ranking members watched.
Some leaned casually, unimpressed.
"There's the farmer group," one said.
"They'll be out in five minutes."
"Watch the old man fall first."
A few chuckled.
But one of the elders remained silent.
Watching closely.
The Turning Point
At minute ten, the drones intensified.
At minute twenty, the terrain destabilized further.
At minute thirty, only a handful of recruits remained.
The sons were still standing.
Daren had taken multiple hits—but never stepped back.
Lio had disabled two drones using nothing but debris and timing.
Soren… hadn't been touched.
Not once.
Tomas Moves
At minute forty-five, something changed.
A high-level drone—far beyond the trial's intended difficulty—activated.
Even the observers were surprised.
"That unit wasn't supposed to deploy."
The drone targeted the weakest.
Which, to them… was Tomas.
It charged.
Fast.
Lethal.
For the first time, Tomas moved.
Not quickly.
But precisely.
One step.
A shift of weight.
A single strike with his bronze dagger.
The drone collapsed instantly.
Silence followed.
The First Crack in Arrogance
The observers stopped talking.
One of them frowned. "That… wasn't luck."
Another leaned forward. "Run the playback."
They slowed the footage.
Frame by frame.
Tomas hadn't just struck the drone.
He had predicted it.
Timed it.
Ended it in one motion.
An old technique.
One that had not been seen in decades.
The End of the Trial
When the hour ended, only four participants remained.
Three sons.
And their father.
The gate opened.
The survivors stepped out.
This time, there was no laughter.
Only quiet.
Uncertain.
Recognition… Not Yet
An official approached with a neutral expression.
"You've passed the first trial."
No praise.
No acknowledgment beyond procedure.
But the tone had changed.
Slightly.
Subtly.
"Prepare for the next phase," he continued. "The Bronze Core Trial."
As they walked away, whispers followed again—but different now.
"Who are they?"
"That old man…"
"Something's off…"
The Hidden Truth Stirs
High above, in the inner sanctum of the guild, the preserved leg pulsed again.
Stronger this time.
Responding.
Not to Tomas alone.
But to all four of them.
The elders exchanged looks.
"It has begun…" one whispered.
Closing Scene
That night, in their assigned quarters, Daren finally spoke.
"They laughed at us."
Tomas nodded. "They still do."
Lio looked thoughtful. "But not the same way anymore."
Soren stared at his father. "You held back."
Tomas met his gaze.
"Yes."
A pause.
"Because this isn't about proving who I was."
He looked at all three of them.
"It's about discovering who you are."
Outside, Aurion Citadel glowed with artificial light.
Inside, something far older than the city itself had awakened.
And the Bronze Plate… was watching.
End of Part III