For a heartbeat longer, Xun Ren allowed himself stillness.

  The hum of the arena below, the faint tremor underfoot—small reminders that peace was a borrowed thing.

  He drew a slow breath and let it go, just as the next zone began to stir.

  A low rumble shook the ground. Metal shrieked as the shipyard arena sank into the depths, panels folding over to seal it away. Steam hissed.

  Mist and green light rose as panels pulled back to reveal a new zone.

  Towering trees unfolded upward, roots pushing through wet earth. Vines hung heavy across ancient stone, the ground turning to thick mud beneath a canopy that blotted out the lights above. The jungle was alive: buzzing insects, the cry of hidden birds, the whisper of wind pushing through unseen leaves.

  The announcer’s voice cracked through the humid soundscape:

  “Next match: Team Edge versus Captain Vitalis. Objective — rescue your captain.”

  Team Edge already stood in position, framed by the undergrowth.

  Valor cracked his knuckles, a grin spreading across his face. “Yes. We got the easy captain.”

  Beside him, Sync and Mirage exchanged a look—the kind of look that didn’t need words. Concern. Unease.

  Sync’s voice was sharp, measured. “Remember—there are five Veritas soldiers hidden somewhere in this jungle. If we’re smart, we can avoid them.”

  Mirage gave a quick nod. “I agree. This place is made for an ambush. Best not to charge into it.”

  Valor snorted, slamming a fist into his open palm with a whip-crack sound.

  “Don’t be a bunch of pansies. What fun is it to ignore the ones looking for a beatdown?”

  Mirage’s tone cooled, a faint edge cutting through her otherwise calm demeanor.

  “Valor. Sync needs to lead. This is a tactical mission. He’s best suited.”

  Valor only grinned wider. “Fine. He can lead. But I’ll still have my fun.”

  [ENTERING ZONE FIVE — TEAM EDGE]

  Team Edge moved in silence, Sync at point, Mirage gliding just behind, Valor stalking with restless shoulders.

  Sync’s eyes flickered yellow. His aura rippled outward in concentric blue pulses. Neural Sync linked the cognitive signals of his teammates.

  Through the link they shared flashes of sight, instinctive warnings, the rhythm of each breath.

  He lifted a fist. Pause.

  Through the link came the sound of boots—multiple, closing fast.

  “Down,” Sync ordered.

  He and Mirage dropped low into the brush, bodies pressed to the damp soil. Mirage’s movements were precise, soundless.

  But Valor stayed upright, cracking his knuckles with a grin. “Looking for me?”

  Branches thrashed. Two Veritas soldiers burst from the trees, rifles raised.

  The first soldier fired. Sync’s signal snapped sharp across the link. Left—now!

  Valor’s aura flared red and blue, snapping like a flag in a storm. Full Throttle. His body compressed like a coiled spring, then detonated forward.

  Fffwip–BLAM!

  The strike landed like an explosion, his fist hammering into the soldier’s chest and blasting him into the undergrowth.

  The second soldier charged Mirage. She pivoted, but the rifle butt came fast. Her eyes flashed gold—Tsshfff—click…

  Her aura shimmered translucent, heat-waves rippling around her body.

  — Niche Activated: Vielstep —

  Temporarily phase parts or all of her body through solid matter—walls, attacks, terrain.

  Her torso phased ghostlike, the weapon sliding through her as if she were smoke. Mirage’s breath hitched as she staggered back into reality.

  “Now!” Sync barked, aura rippling.

  Valor detonated forward again, smashing the soldier into a tree. Mirage’s shimmer faded as she spun clear, lungs burning from the strain.

  The clearing fell still. Steam rose from their auras, chests heaving.

  Valor straightened, smirk spreading. “Told you we didn’t have to dodge them. Waste of time.”

  Sync and Mirage exchanged a look—frustration unspoken, carried only through the link.

  Valor stepped past them, taking the lead without asking. “I’ll lead. This is taking too long.”

  Up in the stands, Lior’s gaze lingered on him, brows drawn tight, thinking, No one can be that na?ve to their own faults.

  The jungle pressed thick around them. Valor marched ahead, shoulders square, every step heavy and loud. Sync and Mirage followed, their expressions carrying the argument they weren’t having.

  Ironically, despite taking the most direct path through the jungle, they didn’t run into any more soldiers. The brush stayed empty, the shadows still. It was as if fate itself wanted them to reach the captain.

  Ahead, the clearing opened.

  Captain Vitalis stood waiting. Her white Veritas coat hung folded on a low branch. In her black sports bra and leggings, she looked nothing like the image of an academy captain—yet the calm in her emerald eyes and the measured set of her stance told another story.

  Valor’s grin widened as he squared his shoulders. His aura flared, streaming off him in chaotic waves. The sound cracked the air—Fffwip—BLAM!—like a sonic detonation each time his body compressed and launched forward.

  He came in wild, fists swinging like cannons. His speed was feral, inhuman, his frame blurring from one angle to the next. To anyone else, it might’ve looked unstoppable.

  But Captain Vitalis flowed around him like water around a stone.

  One hand slipped under his arm, guiding him past with barely a tug.

  Her hip pivoted—his momentum folded into the dirt with a heavy THUD.

  Valor roared, shot back up, and dove again.

  Left hook—brushed aside.

  Right swing—turned into a stumble.

  Flying knee—caught, then eased into the mud with a graceful sweep.

  Every move hit harder, but every failure landed the same: not with pain, but with humiliation.

  Mirage exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing as she crouched behind the brush. “Stupid.”

  Sync didn’t look away from the fight, his electric-blue eyes steady. “Let him handle it. He wants to play Superman, let him learn why she’s the captain.”

  Valor lunged again, compressing energy so tightly the air snapped around him.

  For an instant he seemed to blur red-white like a bullet tearing the air. He aimed straight for her ribs—an all-or-nothing strike.

  Vitalis only stepped back half a pace. Her palm touched his chest, redirecting the explosive force outward. He ricocheted off a hedge of tangled vines.

  WHAM!

  The greenery shook loose leaves as he tumbled back into the clearing, coughing.

  She still hadn’t struck him once. Only moved. Only guided. And yet he looked like the one unraveling.

  Mirage and Sync slipped through the underbrush, mud clinging to their boots as they circled behind a wall of thick roots and broad jungle palms.

  Sync’s aura flickered—Zzz-zzzip… PING—a ripple of electric-blue threading faintly through their minds.

  On my mark, his voice echoed in their heads, calm and firm. We rush the bindings.

  From the clearing, Valor caught a glimpse of movement. He whipped his head around, rage flashing in his eyes.

  “Don’t you dare steal my win!” he roared, detonating forward.

  Fffwip—BLAM!

  Vitalis barely shifted. One sweep of her leg hooked his balance, her palm finding his chest. His own momentum buried him in the mud with a bone-shaking THMP!

  While he struggled, Mirage’s body shimmered, flickering translucent—Tsshfff—click…—as she phased cleanly through the tangle of ropes binding Captain Kaito.

  Her hand passed ghostlike through the knots, undoing them from within.

  Sync reached in, his aura pulsing as he dragged the bindings free.

  Across the clearing, Vitalis glanced at the dome timer—three seconds left. She exhaled softly, emerald eyes flicking once toward the stands as if this whole fight her mind was wondering. Serious Snapback… as her cheeks blushed.

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  The timer buzzed.

  BZZZZZT!

  [ROUND FIVE: COMPLETE]

  [TEAM EDGE: PASSED.]

  Valor shoved Vitalis’s hand away as he dragged himself up from the mud.

  “This isn’t over,” he spat, chest heaving.

  Vitalis smoothed her coat back over her shoulders, voice quiet but sharp.

  “It never started.”

  Kaito dusted himself off, face cold and piercing.

  “As if I’d get caught.”

  The jungle dissolved in a low mechanical rumble, vines and mud folding back into steel as the arena reset.

  Team Edge climbed the ramp back toward the seats.

  Valor raised both hands for high-fives, grinning like he’d carried the match.

  Mirage and Sync walked straight past him without slowing, ignoring his gesture entirely.

  Valor dropped into his seat with a cocky grin, stretching his arms as if expecting praise.

  “Told you I had them handled,” he said, loud enough for the rows around them to hear.

  Mirage didn’t even glance his way. Her arms folded, her glare sharp.

  “Handled? You almost blew the whole thing.”

  Sync sat down slower, calm but visibly frustrated. “We got lucky. If she’d put you down, the timer would’ve run out before we reached Kaito.”

  Valor leaned forward, smirk never leaving his face. “Luck? No—strength. That’s what wins matches.”

  Mirage turned her head away, voice dropping to a mutter he wasn’t meant to hear.

  “This team’s gonna split in half before the tournament even starts…”

  The jungle sank back into steel, swallowed whole. The arena rumbled as a new stage rose from the depths—a colossal battleship. Plates groaned as water rushed against its hull, waves slapping iron walls.

  The ship stretched the length of the zone, bristling with mounted turrets, radar masts, and a labyrinth of narrow decks. The air smelled of salt and gunmetal, wind whipping sharp across the arena.

  Gasps rippled through the cadets. A warship had just surfaced inside the dome.

  The announcer’s voice thundered:

  “Next match — Deadzone Protocol! Team Ironclad… versus Captain Hiroshi!”

  The name alone tightened the air. Even Ironclad’s cadets—Rex, Lockjaw, Blend—straightened, eyes cutting toward their captain.

  In the underhalls, Hiroshi’s cane tapped softly against steel. Tap… tap… tap…

  His gait was steady, unhurried, each step carrying weight.

  Ahead, voices carried—Varric’s voice, low and edged like sharpened iron.

  “You failed me last time. This time, I’m done holding back my iron hand. Survive… or don’t.”

  The words weren’t for Hiroshi, yet he paused in the hall, leaning faintly on his cane. His shadow stretched across the wall, bent by the overhead lights.

  “…still chasing power the wrong way,” Hiroshi muttered.

  His tone neither mocking nor cruel—just tired, edged with wisdom. He walked on, cane tapping into the silence Varric left behind.

  [ENTERING ZONE SIX — TEAM IRONCLAD]

  On the battleship deck, Ironclad launched like predators unleashed.

  Rex’s hulking frame slammed into a sentry with a sound like thunder—BRRRAM!—steel crumpled under the impact.

  Blend’s eyes flickered as a smoky jade aura refracted from her body.

  — Niche Activated: Skinxhift —

  Grants elite adaptive camouflage—skin shifts to match the color and texture of nearby surfaces, from concrete to smoke. Unlike invisibility, it’s pure biological mimicry. When activated, muscular control sharpens to gecko-like precision, gaining ability to scale walls, hang from ceilings, and move in total silence.

  She shimmered in and out of sight, phasing above a turret before ripping its innards free with a screech of tearing metal.

  The battleship groaned, its decks trembling as Ironclad stormed forward.

  Rex hit the first ground trooper like a wrecking ball—BRAMMM!—his shoulder folding armor and soldier alike into the bulkhead without slowing.

  Lockjaw’s eyes flashed yellow, dark indigo aura trembling around her.

  — Niche Activated: Crush Maw —

  When activated, her jaw gains the strength to crush even steel. The mutation extends through her shoulders, arms, and spine, turning her entire frame into a weapon of pressure and pain.

  She vaulted the rail, snapping down on another trooper with a crunch of bone and steel, leaving him in a heap.

  Their pace never faltered. By the time 1 minute had passed, five soldiers lay broken in their wake.

  Up in the stands, Valor leaned forward, arms crossed.

  “Look at those animals. No flare. Just smash and tear.”

  Mirage smirked faintly. “Yeah, but it’s working.”

  Valor’s mouth twisted. “If brute force is all you’ve got, you’re just a hammer looking for a nail.”

  The camera feed followed them as they tore down the main deck.

  And then, at the central tower where Captain Varric was bound, a single figure stood waiting.

  Lockjaw vaulted a barricade—CRASH!—only for Hiroshi’s cane to hook her ankle mid-air. She slammed hard against the deck plating, teeth snapping in frustration.

  Blend shimmered into view above a turret, phasing to strike, but a single jab of the cane knocked the wind from her ribs and sent her sprawling.

  “Two down,” Hiroshi murmured, not even pausing his steps. His cane tapped once, twice, steady against the steel.

  That left Rex.

  Rex’s chest rumbled, each inhale heavy enough to make the deck tremble. Then his aura snapped awake—violent red, jagged and trembling like caged muscle ready to burst.

  — Niche Activated: Savage Howl —

  Rex’s body channels seismic kinetic bursts through impact—roars that quake, punches that rupture, slams that break stone. His Niche turns his entire frame into a living amplifier of primal force, each motion carrying the raw intensity of an apex predator unleashed.

  He roared, and the deck shook.

  “RAAAHHH!”

  The blast scattered a line of drones as Rex charged on all fours, his stance shifting like a gorilla’s lunge one moment, a lion’s pounce the next. His fists struck with wolfish speed, each blow detonating like thunder.

  Hiroshi’s cane flicked once—CLANG!—redirecting the strike. Rex spun, slammed down again with another seismic blow, but still Hiroshi turned it aside, every motion calm and surgical.

  Rex’s aura cracked the deck in red tremors, every strike landing like an avalanche. But no matter how wild the swing, Hiroshi’s cane found the angle, redirecting with calm precision.

  Another clash—CLANG!—the old man turned Rex’s weight aside. Rex stumbled, knees biting steel, his chest heaving

  He looked up.

  Varric was watching.

  Those iron-gray eyes weren’t proud. They weren’t even interested. They were cold, dismissive—disappointed.

  Something inside Rex tore loose.

  His pupils bled crimson. His breath turned ragged, frothing like a beast’s snarl. The red aura that had rumbled like caged muscle now shredded outward, violent, jagged, uncontrolled.

  — FERAL MODE —

  When overwhelmed by emotion or danger, Rex’s Niche drives him into a beast-like state where all rational control vanishes. His body moves on pure instinct, blending the power and precision of apex predators.

  Thorn leaned forward in the stands, voice low. “I’ve never seen him like this before. Savage Howl, yes… but this is different.”

  Grid’s chair creaked as he leaned in, silver eyes narrowing. “Look closer. Normally, Rex’s eyes are gentle—almost human, despite how monstrous he looks. But now…”

  He paused. Even he looked unsettled.

  “…now they’re the eyes of an animal that wants to destroy everything.”

  Rex roared.

  “RAAAAHHHHH–BOOM!”

  Rex tore back to his feet, red aura ripping from his body in jagged waves. He pounded forward again, eyes locked not on Hiroshi anymore, but on Lockjaw.

  “RRAAAHHH–BOOM!” The shockwave burst as his clawed strike ripped the air, aiming for his own teammate.

  Lockjaw froze, jaw tight, unsure if she should fight back.

  And then Hiroshi was simply there. One step. One swing. The cane slid clean into the path of Rex’s strike.

  Rex’s feral eyes blazed down at him, unrecognizing, animal.

  “…Forgive me for this,” Hiroshi whispered.

  He shifted his stance, twisting his wrist with impossible precision. The cane slammed upward, redirecting Rex’s arm and striking at the base of his skull in one seamless motion.

  THWHACK!

  Rex’s body crumpled sideways, crashing into the steel deck with a guttural grunt. The violent red shimmer flickered once, then went out entirely.

  For the first time since his eyes turned crimson, Rex was silent.

  Across the deck, Blend phased through the last stretch without a word. His hand cut clean through the bindings, and Varric rose free.

  The buzzer screamed—BZZZZZT!

  Announcer: “Objective complete. Team Ironclad… passes.”

  But from the look on their faces—no one felt like they’d won.

  Rex lay sprawled across the deck, chest rising and falling in ragged bursts. His violent aura had burned itself out, leaving nothing but an exhausted husk.

  Hiroshi’s cane tapped once against the steel. His voice was calm, almost gentle:

  “Power without control is a storm without a course—it destroys the vessel as surely as it sinks its foes.”

  Varric’s glare cut back, cold and dismissive.

  “Don’t taint my cadets with your prophetic nonsense.”

  A faint chuckle slipped from the old man’s throat.

  “This old man can be delusional at my age… ha ha ha.”

  The scoreboard lit up in bold text:

  [ROUND SIX: COMPLETE]

  [TEAM IRONCLAD: PASSED.]

  But from the look of them, you’d think they’d lost.

  Hiroshi climbed the stairs out of the arena, cane tapping with each step. Snapback leaned casually against the railing, waiting for him.

  Snapback smirked. “Still up to your ways, huh, Old Grey Hairs?”

  Hiroshi tilted his head, grin softening beneath his tired eyes.

  “They’re trying to kill this old man…”

  Overhead, the loudspeaker crackled:

  “Next match — Deadzone Protocol! Team Vitalis versus Captain Null!”

  The announcement rolled through the hall, but Lior barely registered it.

  His eyes stayed fixed on the arena floor—on the faint outline where Rex had stood. The memory of that glare, those crimson eyes, wouldn’t fade.

  He’d told himself it was a coincidence. Just a dream. Just nerves.

  But standing there, watching that color burn against the steel, he felt something shift.

  The line between what he’d seen in sleep and what stood before him had blurred—too close, too exact.

  For the first time, Lior couldn’t pretend anymore.

  The dream wasn’t just a dream. It was real—and it had finally looked back.

  End of Chapter 33