(8 hours 05 minutes until Apex Trials)

  Wham!

  Abasi slammed straight into Captain Aegis.

  She didn’t budge.

  He bounced back like he’d run into a wall, stumbled, and dropped the book clutched in his hands. It hit the floor with a soft slap.

  Abasi froze.

  Then—perfect posture, chin tucked—he snapped up straight. “Sorry, Captain, that’s just… a book a Neophyte gave me. I—I wasn’t reading it. I was examining it. Sorry, ma’am.”

  Aegis knelt, lifted the fallen book, and turned it over in her hand.

  Her eyes flicked from the cover to him. “Abasi…”

  His spine locked even straighter. “I am disappointed in you,” she continued, giving him a stern look.

  His head dropped immediately. “Ma’am, I promise it won’t—”

  She cut him off without raising her voice.“I’m disappointed that it took you this long to realize there is more to life than fighting and chasing strength.”

  Abasi’s eyes snapped up, startled.

  Aegis continued, calm but razor-sharp. “A person who focuses on only one path blinds himself to every other road available. And a blind fighter—no matter how skilled—eventually walks into defeat.”

  His mouth opened but no sound came out.

  Aegis tapped the book’s spine with her thumb.

  “Besides…” Her eyes narrowed in a way that wasn’t quite disapproving. “I’ve seen your nose buried in this thing nonstop since the meeting. What is this now—volume twenty-six in less than a day?”

  Abasi squinted like the number physically pained him and dipped his head again.

  Aegis offered the book back. “I’m glad to see you enjoying something outside military history and strategy. I guess it took someone your age to get through to you.”

  The smile that broke across Abasi’s face was… enormous.

  Too enormous.

  He couldn’t stop, he hadn’t used those face muscles much, but the book along with this moment had his whole face hurting from it.

  Aegis paused.

  In all the time she’d known him, she had never seen him smile like that.

  For a half-second, it almost shocked her.

  ———

  (8 hours, 00 minutes until Apex Trials)

  Bootsteps filled the corridor in a low, steady rhythm as all eight teams funneled toward the Prime Arena — twenty-four cadets moving as one tight, tense current.

  Team Pulse came first.

  Speedy chewed his nails like they were rationed.

  Perma nudged him with an elbow, whispering out of the side of her mouth, “At least pretend you’re calm.”

  Speedy nodded… then kept biting.

  Team Snapback followed.

  Sunstrike and Halo walked shoulder-to-shoulder, both wearing the same practiced calm — faces straight, eyes forward.

  Arcline strutted behind them, grin already too bright for the morning. Somehow, despite the crowd, he and Replica from Seraph drifted just close enough for their shoulders to almost touch — a coincidence that absolutely wasn’t one.

  Team Edge cut through next.

  Valor led them, arms crossed, expression harder than usual — a storm behind the eyes that everyone could see.

  Sync and Mirage trailed behind him, exchanging helpless glances.

  Neither knew what to say.

  Neither knew how to get him back.

  Team Vitalis came in with a very different vibe.

  Grid walked with his hands buried in his pockets, two fresh knots swelling on his forehead — undeniable signatures of Captain Vitalis.

  Thorne and Silverline wiped the last traces of laughter from their eyes, still recovering from whatever disaster Grid had caused five minutes ago.

  Team Null moved in behind them.

  Selena walked quietly beside Ditto — the first time the two had been seen actually talking, their voices soft and surprisingly normal.

  Gale didn’t bother to look at either of them.

  Her eyes stayed fixed ahead, chin high, wearing her pride on her face.

  Team Ironclad marched as if the hallway itself was a training ground.

  Three shadows moving in perfect lockstep — Rex, Brin, Deke.

  And at the rear…

  Team Titan.

  Ayasha and Cael talking quietly back and forth — something about matchups, stamina, strategy.

  Lior walked beside them but not really with them, eyes distant, breath shallow.

  Something about all of this didn’t sit right with him.

  Something his instincts didn’t trust.

  He forced a breath and kept walking.

  Together, all twenty-four cadets stepped through the final threshold and into the blinding lights, where the day that crept closer had finally begun to unfold.

  The lights swept across Prime Arena in a bright, controlled wave. Cadets straightened. The room pressed itself quiet.

  The announcer stepped up to the mic. “Cadets of Veritas Prime — welcome to the Apex Trials.”

  A pulse of tension went through the hall. “Before we begin, we recognize the representative of the visiting Gates.”

  He lifted his tablet. “Sahara Gate — Captain Aegis, Cadet Kojo, Neophyte Abasi Okoye.”

  They walked out.

  Abasi wasn’t even pretending to pay attention — he was mid-stride, nose still buried in a thick manga. The cover showed the same blond ninja as before, older now, caught mid-air forming a jutsu, while a pink-haired kunoichi filled the foreground, tightening her gloves as a massive blue silhouette loomed behind them both.

  Aegis didn’t break pace.

  She simply reached back and plucked the book straight from his hands. “There’s a time and a place Abasi.”

  Abasi froze mid-step, soul evaporating from his face.

  Kojo scanned the hall, looking for Lior.

  The look on Lior’s face caused a small, worried crease to form between his brows before he hid it.

  “Kuro Gate — Captain Drift, Cadet Nightveil, Neophyte Bastian Reyes.”

  Drift walked like sleep was an abstract concept.

  Nightveil slid beside him in total silence.

  Bastian, however—

  Clung to Drift’s pants like a toddler being dragged by a parent at the grocery store, face twisted in existential suffering.

  “My… soul… is… dying…” he whimpered. “Food… please… food…”

  Drift didn’t even look down, he continued as if this was normal — because it was.

  Marinero stepped forward with loud, effortless authority.

  Glacier Fist followed, smirk faint and arrogant.

  And behind him—

  Marisol clung to his leg like it was a safety pole in a hurricane, peeking out only long enough to immediately regret eye contact.

  Cael whispered to Ayasha, “He’s got that same Valor face.”

  Ayasha groaned quietly. “No… no, no. I can’t handle two of them.”

  The announcer lowered his tablet.

  “These representatives will observe the Trials. Treat their presence with respect. Prime cadets… prepare for briefing.”

  The announcer stepped forward, voice booming like it had been sharpened for this exact moment.

  “CADETS OF VERITAS… TODAY, THE DAY THE APEX TRIALS BEGIN.”

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  A ripple moved across the room — shoulders straightening, pulses kicking up.

  “Your match is simple: three versus three. Eight minutes. Sealed arena. ”

  Valor’s fist tightened. He didn’t look left or right — just straight ahead.

  This was his chance. His proof. The moment he’d show everyone why they should put their faith in him.

  The announcer’s voice rolled on, steady and commanding.

  “The arena will have a containment barrier in place — standard protocol to protect spectators and the structure. It absorbs blasts, redirects debris, and repels bodies. If you hit it —you won’t want to hit it again.”

  Several cadets flinched like they already imagined the impact.

  “Inside that ring, almost everything goes. Strikes. Throws. High-speed rushes. Niche abilities of any level. If you can survive it, it’s legal. ”

  He paused just long enough for his words to fall on the among them.

  “But hear this clearly — anything lethal ends the match instantly. Eye gouging, kill-shots, techniques meant to cripple permanently — one taste of kill intent, and the fight is over. No debates.”

  Murmuring surfaced among the cadets.

  “Victory belongs to the last team standing. You win by knockout or forcing their surrender.”

  Some cadets glanced nervously around their teams.

  “Surrender rules are strict. Captains A single fighter cannot throw the match unless they’re the last one standing. Otherwise? It must be a team decision. Two voices or none.”

  Gale glanced at Selena with a stern look.

  At least she can’t end the match unless me or Ditto decides to. Which will never happen.

  The announcer continued.

  “The Captains of the two teams will be seated next to each other in the captain’s section.

  He pointed north of the ring, at two seats sitting level with the other stands.

  “Captains retain full authority to surrender the match if they determine their team is in a vulnerable position.”

  He continued.

  “Remember this, you aren’t fighting for applause. You fight to be revealed. You fight to show whether you’re ready for what waits beyond these walls.”

  For the first time since the announcer started talking Lior’s eyes lit up.

  Why does that word catch my attention?

  The announcer lifted his hand toward the darkened expanse behind him — a space so vast it swallowed the light around it.

  “The Apex Trials will be held here… the newly completed…”

  He let the silence stretch.

  “…PRIME Arena.”

  A deep mechanical rumble answered him.

  GRRRRRRRRMMMMMMMM—

  High overhead, seams split across the roof’s centerline. Massive panels began to retract, sliding apart in a slow, deliberate bloom. With each passing second, the opening widened — and sunlight spilled through.

  At first it fell in a narrow column.

  Then it widened… Then it poured.

  Light cascaded down into the darkness, revealing tier upon tier of seating rising into shadow, steel support ribs arching high above like the skeleton of something enormous. Suspended light arrays hung between them, dim now in the presence of daylight.

  The full breadth of the arena emerged as the opening widened further, the scale far beyond what the cadets had seen during the announcement.

  Below the stands, a wide field of deep green turf stretched outward, pristine and untouched.

  And at the heart of it—

  Prime Ring.

  A massive platform of black obsidian stood slightly elevated from the turf, its polished surface swallowing the sunlight instead of reflecting it. Fine seams traced its reinforced structure, the dark stone radiating a quiet gravity that drew every eye toward it.

  Cael leaned slightly forward to look at Grid.

  Grid didn’t even look at him—just exhaled through his nose.

  Same thought hit both of them at once, just like it did during the Trials:

  Where does Veritas get the budget for this?

  Grid, Cael, and Sync in unison, stepped from their team and walked over to the ring.

  Blueprint crouched, palm resting against one of the tiles. “This isn’t raw obsidian.”

  His fingers traced the seam between plates. “Composite-forged. Reinforced grain. The tiling isolates fractures — keeps damage from propagating.”

  Grid unwrapping a sucker and placing it in his mouth. “Smart design, I have a feeling A.C. And D.C. had something to do with this.”

  Caels nodded. “No one else could’ve come up with this.”

  As they walked back to their teams, the announcer continued.

  “You are to report to Prime Arena at 13:00 hours.”

  The announcer's voice grew.

  “Stand proud. Fight hard. Veritas cadets across all the facilities would kill to have this opportunity. So, when you walk out of the ring… leave everything you have behind.”

  The announcer lifted his voice across the Assembly Floor.

  “Veritas!”

  All Captains, Lieutenant, and cadets lifted their hands in near-perfect sync.

  palms open, fingers spread—

  all except Lior.

  Ayasha nudged him—quick and sharp.

  He blinked and lifted his hand just in time, matching the formation around him.

  Fists closed.

  Arms angled outward.

  Twenty-four cadets, eight captains, and the six representatives above, all holding the same vow in a room that suddenly felt too small for the weight of it.

  They bowed together.

  “Veritas!”

  The single word rolled through the Arena.

  ———

  Team Titan made their way down the hallway toward Captain Titan’s room, after being dismissed.

  Lior finally broke the silence. “Hey… Ayasha. Cael, I have a couple of questions about today.”

  Both turned immediately.

  Cael tilted his head. “Shoot.”

  Lior hesitated. “Why do the other Gates have Neophytes and Lieutenants… and we don’t?”

  Ayasha answered first. “We actually had one of those — before we became cadets, all of us were Neophytes. That’s just a stage you pass through.”

  Cael added, hands sliding behind his head, “Lieutenants are the step above us. A promotion. Veritas Prime is too new to have any yet. Nobody here’s been raised up.”

  Lior nodded, but still wasn’t satisfied with the explanation. “But wouldn’t they bring Lieutenants from the other facilities just to fill the gaps?”

  Cael shook his head. “Nope. Each Gate grows its own. A Lieutenant serves their Captain — not someone else’s. Moving one here would be a mess.”

  “…Got it,” Lior murmured.

  Ayasha exchanged a quick look with Cael before asking, “Anything else?”

  Lior drew in a small breath. “Yeah. Why did everyone do the Left Flame today? We’ve never done it before.”

  She stepped a little closer as they walked. “Remember when I said we were getting our patches because today counts as our first mission?”

  Lior nodded

  “Well,” she continued, “if you noticed, the Neophytes didn’t do the Left Flame.”

  Lior nodded his head. “I saw.”

  “That’s because the Left Flame is only for people who’ve officially earned a title. We were cadets under Titan, sure… but we weren’t recognized as cadets by Veritas until we accepted our first mission.” She tapped her patch.

  Cael nodded. “That’s why this was the first time we were allowed to take part in it with everyone else.”

  Lior let the explanation settle. “…That makes sense.”

  Ayasha’s shoulders eased — he was talking again, not just responding.

  Cael grinned faintly. “You got anymore?”

  Lior forced a small smile.

  “I think I’m good for now. Thanks.”

  Ayasha and Cael nodded, matching his pace as they continued down the corridor.

  ———

  (7 hours, 00 minutes until Apex Trials)

  Glacier Fist stood dead center in the tiny Veritas Prime guest room.

  He threw his hands up. “For a state-of-the-art facility, these rooms aren’t big enough for a baby.”

  Lieutenant Marinero let out a bright, easy laugh — the kind that warmed the space more than the lights did. “Remember, chico,” he said, tapping the top of Glacier Fist’s shoulder, “modern doesn’t always mean bigger. Sometimes it means efficiency.”

  Glacier Fist grumbled something in Russian under his breath.

  Marinero kept going, cheerful as ever:

  “Our facility is the second-oldest. We had more people than Prime ever has, so we needed more rooms. Now that our numbers have dropped, cadets and Lieutenants get their own space back home. But here?” He gestured around the room. “Maybe Prime thinks room size isn’t worth it. More space for training arenas, bigger spar floors, more equipment — that’s where their priorities are.”

  Marisol peeked out from behind Glacier Fist’s leg — she’d glued herself to his side since they’d arrived. “This facility is nice. And so are the people. Stop being so ungrateful, Sergi.”

  His face turned annoyed, like a big brother would towards their little sister. “I told you to call me Glacier Fist,” he hissed — still quiet, because he never raised his voice at her.

  Marisol shook her head. “No. You’ll always be my Sergi.”

  Glacier Fist dragged a hand down his face, defeated by a twelve-year-old. “…I’ll be back,” he muttered.

  Marisol blinked. “Where are you going?”

  He threw up a hand not turning. “For a walk.”

  He stepped out, shutting the door behind him with a tired sigh — half frustration, half something softer he’d never admit.

  Marisol looked to Marinero. “Tío Marinero… Why does he get so mad?”

  Marinero chuckled. “Because cari?o, being cared about, bothers him in the funniest way.”

  ———

  (6 hours 15 minutes until Apex Trials)

  The halls of Veritas Prime stretched quiet in this wing — long, polished, mostly empty. Lior had been walking in silence for a while,

  He rounded a corner… and stopped.

  Glacier Fist was coming down the hall with that slow, heavy stride — hands in his pockets, jaw set, eyes forward.

  Lior straightened and stepped slightly into his path. “It’s Glacier Fist, right?”

  His hand came up for a shake.

  Glacier didn’t even glance at it. “Tch.”

  He brushed past, shoulder tilting just enough not to collide.

  Lior watched him go, hand still half-raised. “…Guess every Gate has a Valor,” he murmured.

  He turned—

  —WHUMP.

  The door beside him swung open and hit him in the head.

  Grid stepped out, closing it behind him.

  He blinked at Lior who was holding his nose with both hands. “…sorry.”

  His tone said something else entirely. “We gotta stop meeting like this.”

  Lior, still rubbing his head. “Yeah…”

  Grid took a few steps, then paused when Lior didn’t follow. “Where’re you headed?”

  Lior shrugged. “Nowhere. Just trying to clear my head.”

  Grid nodded once. “Same.”

  They fell into step, the hall stretching long and quiet ahead of them.

  Grid spoke first. “It doesn’t add up. Tournament for an espionage mission? Loud, flashy, broadcast everywhere…”

  He exhaled. “If Potestas can intercept signals, this whole thing is basically a neon sign saying ‘Here are our cadets and their Niches.’”

  Grid glanced at Lior. “You’re thinking it too, huh?”

  Lior nodded his head in agreement. .

  They walked a few more steps before their conversation thinned into silence.

  Grid stretched once more. “Welp… nothing we can do about it. No point thinking ourselves into circles.”

  “Yeah,” Lior said quietly. “I know.”

  They continued walking—

  but far down the hallway…

  An adult figure stood.

  A distant silhouette — a dark cutout against the pale lights, still as a statue.

  A low voice drifted across the hall — almost swallowed by the distance.

  “…so the boy genius is sharper than I expected.”

  A soft, amused breath — almost a chuckle.

  “He may become troublesome.”

  The figure tilted its head, just enough to suggest a smile without showing one.

  “But you will play your role nicely, Lior… you can’t run from destiny.”

  A low, quiet laugh bled into the air.

  Then—

  A pressure slammed into Lior's skull.

  He dropped to one knee, hand clutching his temple.

  “Whoa—yo, you good?” Grid crouched beside him.

  Lior turned, eyes going straight behind them where the figure stood..

  Nothing there.

  Grid exhaled. “Man… your eyes flashed yellow and everything?”

  Lior forced a thin smile. “I’m good.”

  Grid helped him up.

  They walked on, footsteps fading around the next bend.

  Lior glanced back one last time — slow, searching…

  as if he expected a shape to appear.

  But the corridor stayed empty.

  As if the figure had never existed at all.

  (6 hours 05 minutes until Apex Trials)

  End of Chapter 46