Four weeks passed in what felt like a blink.
The day finally came.
The Academy.
The year that would decide everything.
⸻
The massive Voss estate was quieter than usual that morning. No servants running about, no elders arguing in distant halls. Just the sound of footsteps echoing against marble.
Harkel adjusted the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder as he stepped out of the mansion. Leo followed close behind, carrying his own luggage. They were allowed clothes, training gear, and essentials. Nothing else. No phones. No outside communication. No safety net.
Harkel had left his phone on his desk without looking back.
At the bottom of the staircase, he caught sight of his older brother standing near one of the pillars. Their eyes met for a second.
Then his brother looked away.
Like always.
Leo noticed the tension but said nothing. He'd wondered more than once why Harkel and his brother felt like strangers living under the same roof. Today wasn't the day to pry.
Beyond the courtyard gates waited something enormous.
The aircraft dwarfed everything around it. It had the body of a cruise ship, layered decks and reinforced steel lining its sides, but its underside hummed with thrusters that kept it hovering slightly above the ground. It could easily carry over a thousand people. It looked less like transportation and more like a floating city.
Gathered before it stood the next generation of the Voss family—the participants of what Shen had officially named:
The Clinton Games.
Named after their ancestor, Clinton Voss—the man who built the family's power from nothing.
At the front stood the elders. The parents. The uncles and aunts. And at the center—
Shen Voss.
The clan leader.
Shen stepped forward, his presence alone silencing the courtyard.
"From this point on," he began, voice calm but carrying across the field, "you no longer have financial backing. You no longer have our protection. Your name will not save you. Your ability will not save you. Only what you do from this day forward will."
No one moved.
"In the coming week, I've already explained the rules. If anyone needs them refreshed, speak now."
A few hands went up. Not everyone let pride speak for them.
Shen gave a short nod. "Good. Then we'll move quickly."
He clapped once.
"Rule one. After entrance exams and level assessment, you'll be assigned a dorm with five others. None of them can be Voss. If the Academy makes a mistake, they will correct it. You cannot request changes."
He began pacing slowly.
"Rule two. During beast outings, after the Academy takes its share, you may either convert beast gemstones into game points for placement… or keep them and forge weapons."
A murmur moved through the crowd.
"Rule three. During academic breaks, you may return home and pause your participation… or remain and find your own way to earn units. But understand this—"
His eyes hardened.
"We monitor everything. Your accounts are blocked. If a Voss member supports you financially, both of you are disqualified."
Some swallowed.
"Rule four. Your dorm team is your team. They cannot switch unless your group is eliminated or disqualified."
"Rule five. If you fail to earn enough points within a month, your team is eliminated. Eliminated members may join other teams—but you will no longer compete for leadership."
And then Shen stopped walking.
"Rule six. The most important one."
His voice dropped slightly.
"You are not allowed to kill another participant. If you are in danger and request intervention, we will save you—but you will be eliminated for interference. If you are found to have killed another contestant, you will be stripped of the Voss name."
The air felt heavier.
"You are not just competitors. You are family. And I will not have murder inside my bloodline."
Silence.
Shen looked over them all.
"Does anyone need further explanation?"
No one spoke.
"Good. Then take a book."
His shadow rippled.
From the ground behind him, something surfaced—a long, dark worm-like shadow beast. It coiled up Shen's body like liquid night. The creature opened its mouth, and Shen calmly reached inside, pulling out a thick black-bound book.
He held it up.
"This contains the full rules."
One by one, the teenagers stepped forward.
Parents embraced their children. Some whispered advice. Others tried to hide tears.
Harkel didn't look at any of it.
He walked straight to Shen, took the book without a word, and turned toward the ship. Leo followed, but just before they reached the ramp, Leo grabbed Harkel's shoulder.
"Are you really not going to say goodbye?" Leo asked quietly, glancing toward Shen.
Harkel's jaw tightened.
"I don't think I deserve to yet."
Leo stared at him. "You don't know when you'll see him again."
Harkel didn't respond.
Leo's voice softened. "He's still your dad."
For a second, Harkel hesitated.
Then he turned.
Shen was speaking with another group when Harkel approached. The clan leader looked up.
"Harkel," Shen said, brows lifting slightly. "Do you need something?"
He didn't get to finish.
Harkel stepped forward and hugged him.
It was quick. Tight. Unexpected.
The courtyard fell silent again.
"See you later, Dad," Harkel muttered, voice low.
Shen froze for half a breath before slowly placing a hand on his son's back.
A small smile formed on his face.
"Grow stronger," he said.
Harkel stepped back, not trusting himself to say anything else. He turned and walked up the ramp without looking behind him.
Leo followed, giving Shen a respectful nod before boarding.
Inside, the aircraft vibrated softly as engines powered up. Rows of seats lined the massive interior. Through the wide windows, the estate began to shrink as more participants boarded.
Harkel sat down beside Leo, gripping the rulebook in his hand.
Outside, Shen watched until the last of them entered.
The doors sealed.
The floating ship lifted into the sky.
And the Clinton Games officially began.
Riven and the others waved as they stood at the edge of the orphanage gates. Mr. Lucia stood tall in front of the younger kids, his hands behind his back like always—but his eyes were softer than usual. Around him, some of the smaller children cried openly, wiping their faces with their sleeves as they shouted goodbye.
"Don't cause trouble!" one of them yelled.
"Write back!" another screamed, even though everyone knew they wouldn't be allowed to.
"God… are they gonna miss us that bad?" Joey asked nervously as the four of them finally turned and began walking down the cracked road.
"Of course they are," Luka said with a grin. "The main people who do the dishes, sweep the floors, and handle half the chores are leaving. That job's theirs now."
Jordan frowned. "Or they could just genuinely miss us. You don't have to make it sound like that."
"Oh really?" Luka said. "Look at Kevin."
Jordan glanced back.
Kevin—seven years old, messy black hair falling into his eyes—was gripping his fists so tightly his arms were shaking. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but his jaw was clenched. He looked angry more than sad.
"That," Luka muttered, "is the face of someone who just realized a giant burden is about to land on him."
Jordan sighed. "Okay… fine. Maybe you're semi-right."
As they walked farther down the road, they finally saw it.
A rundown black bus waited at the curb. The paint was chipped, the windows slightly scratched, and one side looked like it had been repaired more than once. It didn't look like the beginning of a bright future. It looked like something forgotten.
"Oh, what is this?" Riven said, staring at it. "This is supposed to be our big day. The day we go to the Academy—the place where our futures are set in stone—and this is what we get?"
"It's probably because they don't have much faith that we'll become anything," a feminine voice said calmly.
They turned.
A girl with deep red hair stood nearby, the color almost matching the small red patch in Luka's hair.
"Oh. Nico. Hey," Jordan said.
She didn't respond.
"You know," Luka said, "you can't start a conversation and then just not speak back."
Nico ignored him and walked toward the buses.
Up close, they noticed there were actually two buses. One black. One silver-gray. Both far larger than they looked from a distance.
A man stepped out from beside the black bus. He had the face of a hardened warrior—sharp features, a faint scar across his jaw, broad shoulders that seemed too wide for his coat. He stood so tall it felt like he towered over the bus itself.
Several students gulped just looking at him.
"I am your Guardian," he said, voice deep and commanding. "For now, your guide to the Academy. We'll make this quick so we can return for the rest of you wallborns."
The word didn't sit well with most of them.
But no one said anything.
From his pocket, he pulled out a small orb-like device that shimmered faintly.
Before he could continue, the door of the silver-gray bus opened and a woman stepped out. When she saw him, she smiled and let out a small chuckle.
"Really?" she said. "Are you seriously using your ability to intimidate children again? Evolver, I didn't think you could sink any lower."
The students' eyes shifted between the two of them. There was history there. That much was obvious.
The man's towering presence shrank back to that of a normal adult. The pressure in the air faded slightly.
"See?" the woman teased. "Was that really necessary? Or did you just need to boost that fragile ego of yours?"
"It was cold that night!" he snapped.
"Sure it was," she replied smoothly. "Funny how it got warmer the next day and that ego of yours was still the same size."
"I'm sorry," Joey whispered. "Are they talking about—"
"Yeah," Riven muttered before he could finish. "They are."
"Anyway," the Guardian coughed, regaining composure. "Step forward and channel your ability into this orb. If it lights up, you board the black bus. If it doesn't, you go to the silver bus. If you already know you haven't evolved, save us the time."
There were around a hundred students gathered. The buses were massive—easily able to fit over ninety people each.
"Wait," a girl raised her hand. "Aren't we all going to the same Academy? What's the point of different buses?"
"After an incident a few years back," the woman answered, "Evolvers and non-evolvers are transported separately. And not all of you are heading to the exact same base. Different locations. Same Academy system. Now, let's move."
One by one, students stepped forward.
Some touched the orb and nothing happened. They quietly walked toward the silver bus.
Others made it glow in different colors, confirming their evolution.
Then it was Riven's turn.
His heart beat a little faster.
He believed in the System now. He was Level 4. After reaching Level 3, all his stats had increased by one. He had even unlocked a small inventory space. Nothing impressive inside it—but it was real.
And he had lightning.
So why was he nervous?
"So why am I this worried?" he thought. "Am I scared it was all in my head? That Luka was right?"
He placed his hand on the orb.
He focused.
He imagined the lightning—not just the image of it, but the feeling. The hum beneath his skin. The quiet crackle resting in his veins.
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Then the orb flared bright blue.
Gasps spread through the crowd.
A slow smile formed on Riven's face.
He stepped onto the black bus.
Inside, most of the seats were already filled.
Two seats per row.
Students were spaced out heavily, sitting apart from each other with empty gaps between rows. The spread made it impossible for groups to cluster.
Riven scanned quickly.
There were no open pairs left.
Only single seats beside strangers.
Jordan hadn't boarded yet. Luka hadn't. Joey hadn't. Nico hadn't.
But it didn't matter.
There wasn't a single open double seat waiting for them.
Riven swallowed and picked a random empty seat beside a tall boy he didn't recognize. The boy barely looked at him.
A few minutes later, Jordan boarded after his orb lit up. He stepped inside and immediately searched for Riven.
Their eyes met.
Jordan looked around again.
No empty pairs.
He had no choice. He sat beside a random girl near the back, nowhere near Riven.
Luka came next. Same result. Forced to sit next to someone he didn't know halfway down the aisle.
Joey boarded and hesitated for a second before taking the only open spot left near the front.
Nico stepped in last. She didn't even look for them long before choosing a seat near the window beside a stranger.
None of them were close to each other.
They weren't even within whispering distance.
The bus doors shut with a heavy hiss.
As the engine roared to life and the orphanage began shrinking in the distance, Riven stared forward.
They were all on the same bus.
But they were already separated.