Steel corridors waited in silence, lit by thin lines of blue running along the floor like veins.

  The air felt charged — tense, watchful — as both teams crouched by the sealed doors. Every breath carried the weight of the countdown, the unspoken pact to move as one.

  A faint crackle broke the quiet as Grid’s voice came through the comms.

  “We’re going for a quick approach, but it has to be clean.

  “Thorn, use your Niche on my command — it only lasts two seconds, so timing is everything. Lior, Cael, follow my lead. I know your Niches now; I’ll call your openings when I see them.”

  The five cadets below answered together, voices steady despite the nerves pressing against them.

  “Right.”

  ?

  In the stands, Captain Róisín watched her strategist below, a quiet smile tugging at her lips.

  “You can’t sleep through this one, Grid,” she murmured. “Everyone’s about to see why we’ll be answering to you one day.”

  HISSSSS —

  With a hydraulic hiss, the corridor doors slid open, revealing a narrow passage framed by flickering red lights.

  Without hesitation, the five shadows stepped inside — boots landing in sync, eyes sharp.

  “Three paths ahead,” Grid muttered, scanning the readouts from his handheld display. “All of them look awful. Silverline, Ayasha — take the left. Don’t touch the lasers. Cael, Thorn, Lior — middle route. I’ll guide you through.”

  In Team Edge’s section, Valor’s voice came low, almost to himself.

  “Smart as Grid is, it won’t fix Team Titan’s lack of discipline.”

  Mirage’s brow twitched; Sync shot him a look.

  The irony hung heavy — both remembering exactly whose temper had cost them the last trial.

  ?

  THMP. THMP. THMP.

  The split came fast.

  Ayasha darted left, her movements light and precise, body twisting through shifting beams of light.

  Each laser passed within inches of her, reflected in the glint of sweat at her temple.

  Silverline followed with dancer-like grace — hands sweeping, body rotating through the air, movements flowing more like performance than evasion.

  The others plunged into the middle hall — narrow, lined with patrol drones and motion-sensing sentries sweeping across the floor in mechanical rhythm.

  Cael closed his eyes briefly, letting the electric hum of his Niche flare.

  ZZZZZT.

  Mindframe activated.

  His pupils traced invisible trajectories through the area, trying to map the drones’ movements.

  “Wait… now,” Cael called.

  FWOOOM!

  The trio burst forward between converging sentries, ducking under their gaze.

  Thorn’s arm almost brushed a whirring drone, but he steadied and slipped past; Cael’s prediction held.

  They slid through untouched.

  By the time the left corridor lit up again, Ayasha was already midair, flipping over a final laser grid while Silverline spun beneath her, landing in sync.

  They reached the junction almost simultaneously.

  “Hold up,” Grid’s voice snapped in their ears. “Camera on the next corner. Hidden. Thorn — wall, now. Activate Stillpoint Bloom.”

  Thorn slammed his hand against the metal surface.

  THOOM!

  Ripples of pale blue energy spread across the wall, and time seemed to drag for an instant.

  —Niche Activated: Stillpoint Bloom—

  Generates a 2-meter radius sphere of absolute stillness and silence for exactly 2 seconds, halting all movement, sound, and energy within it.

  “Ayasha, kinetic vault! Silverline, grab her hand! Everyone else — stay flush to the wall, now!”

  Within seconds, Ayasha launched herself—

  FWOOSH!

  —vaulting up and over the shifting lens. Silverline’s grip caught perfectly, both swinging out of view as the slowed camera lens turned sluggishly past them.

  As Grid’s directions echoed across the dome, Titan stood near the upper row of the stands — listening, eyes tracking the strategist’s movements below, calm and assessing.

  So this is the Grid kid… I guess what they say about him is true. A mind that borders on prodigy.

  The announcer’s voice echoed overhead:

  “Thirty seconds remaining.”

  Grid’s tone hardened.

  “We’ve got to move. Go.”

  THUD! THUD! THUD!

  Boots thundered forward.

  Twenty seconds.

  Grid’s feed spiked with interference.

  “Wait — multiple drones ahead. I can’t find a way to get you past it.”

  He hesitated, then barked, “Lior, your Niche! Pulse Break’s shockwaves could scramble the feed!”

  Lior didn’t respond.

  For a heartbeat, the world muted — fading into a memory.

  Titan’s voice echoed from training.

  “Find that emotion that woke it up before. The fear, the will, the reason it appeared when you needed it most. Don’t force it — feel it.”

  “Lior!” Grid’s shout pulled him back.

  He clenched his fists.

  They need me. They’re counting on me.

  And then — another voice, the same one that had spoken the first time his Niche activated. Calm, prophetic, resolute.

  You are the light, Lior. And the light is you. Let go.

  Bright sky-blue energy flared with pale gold—

  TUNN… TUNN—WHUUM!

  The air convulsed as the aura expanded, not Pulse Break but something new.

  When Lior looked up, his eyes, golden flickering but staying.

  —Niche Awakened: Pulse Burst—

  Forms short-lived pulse barriers at will, creating circular zones of protection that can block, redirect projectiles, or cause malfunctions. Offensively, can fire focused pulse bursts like short-range shockwaves.

  THUD—CRACK—VZZZHHHT!

  Concussive pulses rolled from him, short and sharp, as if the air itself had turned into a shield for one breath, causing the drones to malfunction and fall to the floor.

  ?

  Up in the observation deck, Titan’s eyes widened.

  Snapback grinned.

  “Awakening… and so young…”

  Captain Seraph’s gaze narrowed.

  “He doesn’t even notice it. Was that… just a flare-up?”

  Kaito folded his arms.

  “Emotional surge. He doesn’t have control. Still… impressive.”

  Only the captains truly understood what they’d just witnessed.

  ?

  The light faded. Lior’s knees hit the floor, his breath ragged.

  “…Ughh… my body — won’t move…”

  Ayasha spun as the blast faded, eyes wide.

  “Lior!”

  “Keep moving!” Grid’s voice cracked through the comms, louder than before. “We’re out of time — fifteen seconds!”

  Thorn threw Lior’s arm over his shoulder, dragging him upright while Cael surged ahead.

  The last hall stretched open before them — narrow, suffocating, filled with crossing red lights and flickering motion sensors.

  Every second felt heavier.

  “Ten seconds!”

  Ayasha and Silverline were already vaulting through the final passage, bodies moving on instinct and trust.

  Thorn pushed forward with Lior’s weight over his shoulder, gritting through the strain.

  Cael caught sight of the last barrier — a sensor wall — and without hesitation dove low, sliding beneath it.

  SKRRRSH!

  Sparks sprayed off the floor.

  Grid’s voice broke through one last time, firm but urgent.

  “Finish it — now!”

  Thorn launched what strength he had left, half-carrying, half-throwing Lior through the threshold.

  Ayasha’s hand shot out and caught his wrist, yanking him across the glowing finish line—

  DING—DING—DING!

  Just as the mechanical chime rang through the chamber.

  “Time!”

  The corridor lights snapped from red to soft white.

  A breath later, the digital timer on the wall froze—

  00:02 remaining.

  Over the intercom, the announcer’s voice carried a note of disbelief.

  “Team Titan and Team Vitalis — clear. Two seconds to spare.”

  ?

  From above, Speedy’s voice echoed throughout the gamma dome.

  “WE DID IT!”

  Perma yanked him down in his seat, arms folded.

  “We didn’t do anything.”

  Trying to hide a slight smile.

  ?

  Lior bent over, hands on his knees, breathing like a marathon runner.

  Thorn smacked him on the back.

  THUMP!

  “That was impressive.”

  “Thanks…” Lior breathed.

  Thorn tapped his knuckles against Lior’s — wordless solidarity.

  Up in the booth, Grid finally exhaled.

  Nice job, guys.

  Cael glanced up, as if he heard Grid’s thoughts, shooting a thumbs-up toward him.

  ?

  For once — no, for the first time since the trials began — noise lingered.

  Not orders — cheers.

  Team Pulse, Team Seraph, and Team Snapback.

  Small, uncertain at first, then growing as cadets began to realize they were allowed to cheer.

  Across the deck, Casen scowled.

  Inez and Sync traded impressed looks.

  Snapback’s face slid next to Titan, finally in front of him.

  “Are you going to tell him about that flare-up just now?”

  Titan’s mouth flickered — almost a smirk.

  “Me telling him will only hurt his progression. I don’t believe he, nor any cadets, noticed it.”

  Snapback leaned back in his chair, arms over his head, stretching.

  “Well, this just keeps getting interesting.”

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  Snapback’s face softened.

  “He truly is his son, huh?”

  Titan, eyes still locked on his team, didn’t answer —

  but they both knew the answer.

  The applause faded, and the dome reset to silence.

  ?

  WHIRRRR—THUNK.

  On the descending lift, Gale stood with arms crossed, jaw tight, while Ditto and Selena waited beside her.

  The hum of the machinery filled the space between them.

  “I’ll run point on this one,” Gale said, her eyes fixed ahead.

  Ditto hesitated.

  “Maybe… maybe the smart thing would be to let Selena take the tower,” she said quietly.

  Gale turned, surprise flickering across her face before it vanished behind a practiced calm.

  “You’re right,” she said coolly. “Someone with no Niche doesn’t belong on the field anyway.”

  She glanced at Selena.

  “You can go up top — be the strategist — but I’m still running this.”

  Selena didn’t argue.

  She just nodded once.

  “Right,” Ditto echoed softly, almost an afterthought.

  As the lift passed its midpoint, Selena looked across the dome.

  On the opposite side, Team Titan and Team Vitalis were rising toward the stands — sweat-soaked, smiling, their thumbs raised in quiet approval.

  Even Grid’s half-hearted gesture counted.

  A faint smile touched her lips before fading.

  Below, the lights shifted to iron gray.

  VOOMMM…

  “Teams Null and Ironclad,” the announcer called, “prepare for Trial III.”

  Selena stepped off the lift, turning toward the tower platform as the others continued downward.

  CLANG—CLANG.

  “Veil Drill, Trial III — Teams Null and Ironclad, prepare to begin at the sound of the horn.”

  ?

  Ayasha’s gaze stayed on the floor below as the two new teams took position.

  “This isn’t going to end well,” she murmured.

  Lior turned to her, calm and poised.

  “No matter how it ends, all we can do is be there for her. As long as she sees she has people in her corner… she’ll never feel isolated.”

  ?

  BOOOOOOOONK!

  The horn blared.

  Selena’s voice came confident through the comms.

  “Ditto, Rex, Brin — Sector 3. Deke, Gale flank. I’ll guide you step by step.”

  Inside the dome, the squad moved with quiet precision.

  Brin Helser — Codename: Lockjaw — Team Ironclad — hunched low, jaw bound in black cloth.

  Deke Voss — Codename: Blend — Team Ironclad — hugged the walls, scaled skin catching faint light.

  Ditto flickered ghostlike between them.

  Rex thundered at the front.

  They advanced — silent, efficient, unsettling.

  From the Vitalis section above, Thorn leaned toward Silverline.

  “That’s a different Selena in that tower,” he said quietly. “I’ve never seen her speak with that kind of confidence.”

  Silverline nodded, eyes still on the monitors.

  “We’ve never seen her in this position before. We’d never have seen this side of her otherwise.”

  Beside them, Grid rested his chin on his hand, watching Selena’s timing on each call.

  “It’s almost as if she’s trained for this before,” he murmured.

  At a three-way fork:

  “…Take the far right,” Selena said softly. “The route is cleaner. Gale, use your Niche to slowly turn the surveillance cameras away.”

  “I’ve seen this before. It was faster this way during Vitalis’ trial,” Gale scoffed, already turning left.

  “…It changes every trial, Gale,” Ditto murmured — as she followed.

  Ditto’s voice became panicked.

  “Gale, no — don’t go tha—”

  CLICK.

  Gale shut her comms off.

  In the stands, Ayasha’s head lifted at Gale’s actions.

  “She cut her feed. We should get closer.”

  Lior was already half out of his seat.

  “Stairs?”

  “Stairs,” she said.

  Ironclad didn’t flinch.

  Rex and Brin thundered right; Deke flowed behind.

  Selena was correct: there were only security cameras to the right. The middle and left were cluttered with sentries and drones.

  As Gale and Ditto entered the left corridor, a group of drones almost spotted them—

  VRRRRRRRR—BEEP!

  Gale reacted instantly. Sky-blue aura flared, white crescents carving air; hair whipped upward.

  The power didn’t look controlled, as if she were fighting it herself.

  —Niche Activated: Aeroclash—

  Manipulates and condenses air currents into focused bursts of force, enabling the user to generate cutting wind arcs, propel themselves through controlled gusts, and unleash concussive blasts of compressed air at close range.

  WHOOM—THWACK—CRRSSSH!

  Gale sent out propulsion gusts, pushing the drones away, buying them enough time to hide.

  Breathing hard, Gale turned to Ditto.

  “I… told you I didn’t need her help. Just follow me with your Niche, ok.”

  Ditto gave a nervous nod.

  Ditto’s eyes flickered yellow. Pale-teal outline glitching — pixelated.

  KRRRSHH!

  —Niche Activated: Echo Step—

  Short-range mimicry of last action, stance, or voice — copied in fragments.

  She mirrored each one of Gale’s steps.

  It worked — until Gale spotted a trip laser and used an Aeroclash gust to burst into the air.

  Echo Step can mimic many things, but it can’t mimic someone else’s Niche.

  Ditto, not realizing Gale had reactivated her ability, jumped — just not high enough to clear the trip laser.

  BOOOONK — BOOOONK — BOOOONK!

  [INTRUDER DETECTED]

  [MISSION FAILED]

  There was silence across the dome.

  Ironclad had crossed into the retrieval zone before the laser was tripped, but all cadets had to cross.

  The corridors opened, allowing the group to exit.

  ?

  At the same time, Selena’s elevator reached the bottom.

  Selena stepped out — and Gale was on her.

  “You idiot! You ruined it! What good are you without a Niche?! You’re nothing but dead weight!”

  “…Dead weight,” Ditto echoed, softer.

  The words carried farther than they realized; comms fed the deck.

  Gasps rippled through the cadets in the stands.

  Knowing what was about to come, Ayasha was already on the lower decks, Lior at her side.

  Ayasha, calm but serious, snapped at Gale.

  “If you listened to your strategist instead of your ego,” she said, steady, “maybe you’d win one.”

  Gale froze, then spun away.

  Ditto slunk after her.

  Lior offered Ironclad a hand.

  “Good game, guys.”

  Blank stares.

  They passed him, marching toward Varric —

  STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.

  Varric’s glare said enough.

  Selena stared at her hands.

  The silence pressed harder than the shouting.

  “Come sit with us,” Ayasha said gently. “You don’t deserve that.”

  “Thanks… but my captain wouldn’t approve,” Selena managed, then slipped away.

  Lior’s breath hitched.

  “…Ugh. My head again.”

  “You okay?” Ayasha asked.

  “I’ve had this all day. It just started back up. Probably tired.”

  A faint yellow shimmer teased the corner of his eye — gone before he could notice.

  There was something different about these headaches, though — an unease beneath them, as if they meant more than fatigue.

  ?

  The arena lights dimmed again as the next lift began to descend.

  Two teams packed the platform.

  The announcer’s voice carried across the dome, announcing the final trial:

  “Veil Drill, Trial IV — Teams Seraph and Snapback, prepare to begin at the sound of the horn.”

  “Strategist reporting,” Cascade said, calm and formal from the strategist tower.

  K huddled everyone up as if to give an inspirational speech, but all that came out was—

  “K.”

  Somehow, everyone understood.

  Nods passed around had just been given.

  Up above, Cascade fixed her mic as she pushed out instructions.

  “Maintain spacing. Trust your training.”

  BOOOOOOOONK!

  Once again, Cascade’s voice came through the comms.

  “Begin maneuver pattern: Wingspan Alpha.”

  HUMMMMM!

  Inside, the corridors shifted paths.

  The teams flowed in sync.

  Wingspan Alpha was working to perfection.

  ?

  A memory had taken hold of one of the cadets.

  Team Seraph had walked over to Team Snapback’s section. Replica and her formal way of talking sat next to Sunstrike.

  “My fellow cadet, Cascade, has come up with a brilliant strategy to make sure that our trial will end in success.”

  Sunstrike, arms crossed but curious.

  “Shoot.”

  ?

  Back in the present, over the comms, Cascade confirmed what she saw in the other three matches.

  “Just like I believed, the movements of the barricades are predictable. They move in sections of three, so Wingspan Alpha should be a success. Stay on the wings of the room and we shouldn’t have much trouble.”

  Speedy leaned forward in his seat, clasping his hands together dramatically.

  “Oh, I can’t believe I’m witnessing a goddess at work! One day, Replica, we shall share our love and matrimony!”

  From two rows up, Cael shot Ayasha a side glance.

  “Guess he’s gotten over you, huh?”

  Ayasha rolled her eyes.

  “I hope so.”

  Cascade’s voice shot back through the comms.

  “Halo, you and K be careful on your sides. I’m starting to see drones appear in that area, but their pattern should pass right by you. Replica, you, Arcline, and Sunstrike will have to dodge the trip lasers over there.”

  K and Halo cleared their side easily under Cascade’s direction.

  From the stands, Captain Seraph watched her team with quiet pride, whispering to herself,

  “You got this, girls. Do your best.”

  On the other end, Replica, Arcline, and Sunstrike were breezing through the trip lasers with ease.

  But just then —

  Replica’s boot caught a raised plate and she pitched forward.

  Her eyes shut, bracing for the fall.

  TSHHH—ZAP!

  —Niche Activated: Current Break—

  The human conduit of living electricity, channeling absorbed charge into precise bursts, arcs, and radiant surges.

  When her eyes opened, she saw him — Arcline.

  Crackling yellow-white currents with flickers of blue—

  VRRZT… TSSHHK…

  —rolled off his skin, lighting the air around them.

  “…Thanks,” she whispered, cheeks blooming red.

  He hesitated.

  “…You’re welcome.”

  In the stands, Snapback’s grin curved beneath his dark glasses, head tilted just enough to catch the light.

  He didn’t say a word — just leaned forward with that knowing look that said he’d seen enough to tease for weeks.

  “HELLO!? We still have to cross the finish line!” Sunstrike barked, grabbing Arcline by the collar and dragging him.

  SKRRRT!

  Seraph crossed clean.

  Snapback’s crew stumbled across — Sunstrike hauling Arcline, Halo following behind.

  Halo covered her face.

  “I don’t know them.”

  From Team Pulse’s section, Speedy jumped to his feet, pointing dramatically.

  “Get your lightning hands off my future wife! I oughta—”

  POW!

  He hit the floor, a knot already swelling on his head where Perma’s fist had landed.

  “You always come between me and love,” he groaned, rubbing the lump.

  The announcer came on the intercom.

  “Team Seraph and Team Snapback — clear. 4 minutes and 21 seconds remaining.”

  ?

  On the floor, Captain Seraph stood radiant.

  “You girls were amazing. I’m so proud to be your captain.”

  Seraph folded into a hug; Replica stole one last glance at the floor where Arcline had steadied her.

  “Look at that, Lava Lily,” Snapback called.

  “You didn’t do a thing, and y’all still won. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

  Snapback flicked a double eyebrow at Arcline.

  “Nah. Compliment goes to Arcline. Good catch, man… if you know what I mean.”

  “I’m gonna kill you.”

  POOF!

  “TOO LATE! YOU CAN’T CATCH WHAT YOU CAN’T SEE!”

  ZOOOOOOM!

  Sunstrike scowled while the others failed to hide laughter.

  The trials were crafted to breed rivalry.

  Instead, they’d begun to do the opposite.

  ?

  Lior kicked off his boots as the dorm lights dimmed.

  Cael toweled his face.

  “The cafeteria was actually lively tonight.”

  Even Team Vitalis had drifted to their bench — four groups together now — and Selena among them.

  For once, the laughter didn’t seem to need permission.

  “Maybe we’re a bad influence,” Lior said.

  “Or a needed one,” Ayasha answered.

  Cael asked Lior a question that he was confused about.

  “Lior, why didn’t you tell Grid about Slipstream?”

  Lior shrugged his shoulders.

  “Didn’t feel the need to. Brock always told me never to give up everything.”

  Ayasha snorted.

  “Sounds like something that old fart would say.”

  They laughed together — quiet, unguarded.

  Something about tonight felt different.

  ?

  In a black chamber, faceless silhouettes around a pulsing monitor.

  “Have you made contact with the boy?” a voice asked.

  Somewhere in Veritas, a shadowed figure held a phone in a cadet’s uniform.

  A sly smile curled in the dark.

  “Yes. Contact has been made.”

  “Good. We have someone in the upper ranks keeping an eye on you. Don’t fail us.”

  Eyes flickered yellow; energy hummed.

  VZZZZZHT.

  “I was born for this.”

  End of Chapter 25