A building with an imposing structure, standing against the sky as if trying to tear it apart, loomed before a young man not yet eighteen.
Its vast glass windows reflected the light, offering glimpses of what lay inside.
A reception desk occupied the center of the ground floor: five women handled the most varied requests—some asking for hunting permits, others collecting the earnings of expeditions. Everything was carried out with grace and order, like a perfectly synchronized organism.
And so, Seran stepped inside this structure: The Presidium; an organizational hub under the management of the ARMED FORCES, the governmental body of Novaris responsible for overseeing the Tower ecosystem.
Joining one of the five queues, he looked around, curious, observing the people surrounding him.
Some were equipped with shining, modern-looking armor; others carried gleaming firearms. One man bore countless scars across his arms and face—signs of experience and of violence endured at the hands of something unimaginable.
After about twenty minutes, he finally stood at the counter, greeted by a modestly beautiful girl whose only distinctive feature was a single strand of magenta hair.
"Welcome to the Presidium. How may I help you, sir…?" the receptionist asked.
"Seran Delora. I'm here to request access to the Trigger trial. Here is my IHE graduation certificate," Seran replied calmly, handing over his documents.
"Very well. Another aspiring Tower stands before me today. One moment while I register your request in the city database. Please fill out this form in the room next door. Once completed, scan and submit it through the following link. Within a couple of days, you will receive a response with further instructions. Thank you, and have a nice day."
Five days later, while Seran was doing a set of push-ups, his phone vibrated.
Stopping his training and wiping sweat from his forehead, he checked the screen.
"Your request has been approved. Report at 06:00 to Patrol Block Theta with an identification document. Further instructions will be provided on site. In the Glory of Novaris."
After spending the night resting as much as possible, Seran left the city via a floating bus heading toward his destination.
With anticipation, anxiety, and the ever-burning promise he had made, at exactly 05:56 in the morning he stood before an enormous perimeter wall that stretched endlessly around the city.
In front of the gate leading into the patrol block, around one hundred people had gathered—some Seran's age, others clearly older and marked by experience.
At the scheduled time, the gates opened.
A dozen men and women, led by a woman in her thirties, stepped forward with perfect order and precision, standing before the candidates.
"Good morning. I am Supervisor Amelia Riven. Split into two lines. We will begin verifying your documents. After that, each of you will be assigned a Floor 1. They will act as your guide for the next 96 hours," she said with an authoritative voice.
Following instructions exactly, the candidates proceeded with document verification.
Once granted access, they were led by Amelia into a military courtyard.
Seran could not help but notice the implicit strength within Supervisor Riven—how each measured step concealed a power far beyond his comprehension. And when he briefly lifted his gaze, he noticed how perfectly the uniform clung to Amelia's figure.
"Now you will be called in alphabetical order. Your guide will take you to your temporary quarters, and you will follow their instructions. Let us begin with…"
Assignments began. One by one, the courtyard emptied.
After several minutes:
"Deloran Seran, step forward. Your guide is Floor 1 Ludwig Merc."
Before Seran stood a man about 1.80 meters tall, with a strong build. His brown hair fell to his shoulders, streaked with red strands. His brown eyes carried crimson glints. He wore a blue uniform with a metallic badge on his left chest.
A face that spoke of years of battles against the Evox.
"Candidate Deloran, follow me."
Seran began to follow the man.
After passing through several structures and buildings, they arrived at what would be his refuge for the next 4 days: a small cabin containing a bed, a bathroom, and nothing else.
"You will find a uniform on the bed. Put it on. I want you outside in five minutes. We will proceed with preparation for your first hunt."
Noting the seriousness of the instructions, the most notorious latecomer of the IHE changed in record time—4 minutes and 56 seconds, a personal best.
"I said follow me."
Five minutes later, they arrived at a massive training hall.
Seran froze for a moment, stunned—not only by the sheer size of the structure, but by what was happening inside.
A man manipulated fire as if it were soap bubbles. A girl sliced a concrete block in two with a single knife strike. Another floated effortlessly in midair.
"This is where you decide who you will become," Ludwig said solemnly.