Just then, the lights in the hall flickered. A low chime echoed through the academy—deep and cold, like a bell tolling at a funeral.
A holographic projection shimmered to life above the center platform.
[Dr. Aaron's Voice]: To all remaining first-years. Report to Chamber A-07 for your next evaluation. Do not be late.
Zero and Grant exchanged a look.
As they made their way toward the chamber, the suspicious group followed behind—quiet, calculating, and close.
Zero's grip on his blade tightened.
Because the trial had already begun.
As they stepped into Chamber A-07, the door slammed shut behind them with a heavy clang. The walls were smooth steel, the ceiling humming with faint energy. At first glance, the room looked empty—too empty.
[Grant]: …Feels like a trap.
[Zero]: That's because it is.
He didn't wait. His eyes locked onto one of the suspicious students slinking toward the far corner. The moment the others started spreading out, like wolves surrounding prey, Zero moved.
Fast. Efficient. Quiet.
Spoon in hand—yes, a spoon—he went behind the nearest one.
And jabbed it right into the neck.
A sickening crack. Blood sprayed against the cold steel wall. Before the student could gasp, Zero twisted the man's arm down, yanked the sidearm from his belt, and rolled forward with it in hand.
Gunfire exploded instantly.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Two of the suspicious students opened fire—no hesitation, no shock, just swift execution as if expecting retaliation.
[Grant]: Hell yeah!
He raised his shield, the Dragonhide surface absorbing the first volley before he surged forward with a Warhammer swing that shattered the knee of a gunman trying to flank them.
Zero ducked behind a support pillar, and checked the mag.
Six bullets. Standard energy pistol.
He exhaled and popped out—two shots to the chest of another incoming assailant. Clean hits. They dropped.
[Zero]: Three down. Three left.
[Grant]: They're fast—but not good under pressure.
One of the attackers activated a personal cloaking field, disappearing in a shimmer of light.
Zero's eye twitched slightly.
[Zero]: …And now we're playing that game.
He pulled his free hand to his mouth and bit his finger, drawing a quick sigil in the air with blood.
[Cursed Sight: Reveal the Hidden].
His eyes flared red.
In a flash, the cloaked assassin lit up like fire. Zero fired without hesitation.
The shot struck the leg. The attacker screamed as their cloak failed and they collapsed, trying to crawl away.
[Grant]: Two left! Keep pressure!
One tried to retreat to the wall—maybe trigger an emergency exit. But Grant wasn't having it. With a roar, he hurled his hammer like a comet. It struck the wall and the retreating student with a thunderous crack, pinning him in place.
[Zero]: Last one—where is—?
A sharp pain bit into Zero's shoulder. A knife.
The final attacker had crept close, but made the mistake of stabbing instead of finishing.
Zero twisted with fury, grabbed their wrist, and slammed their head into his knee. Once. Twice. Then a bullet point-blank.
Silence.
Smoke filled the room. Blood. The walls are painted with the aftermath.
Grant leaned on his shield, breathing heavily.
Zero crouched near the first body, checking for any identification.
[Zero]: They weren't students. Look—tattoo behind the ear. Marked agents. Sent in.
[Grant]: Why?
The screens in the room flickered to life again.
Dr. Aaron's voice echoed, colder than before.
[Dr. Aaron]: Trial 03… complete.
Pause. Then:
[Dr. Aaron]: Well done, Mr. Zero. Mr. Grant. I see your instincts remain intact. The rest of you…, unfortunately, you are not ready.
Gas hissed from the corners of the chamber. Those who hesitated to act—who hadn't drawn weapons—collapsed instantly, unconscious.
[Dr. Aaron]: From this point on, never assume safety. You are not children. You are soldiers being forged in the crucible of war. And war waits for no hesitation.
Zero glanced at Grant.
[Zero]: We survived. Again.
Grant chuckled, wiping blood from his forehead.
[Grant]: Damn right we did.
The lights flickered as gas cleared from the room. The blood was still drying on the walls, and yet, the voice that echoed next sounded as if it were reading from a morning report.
[Dr. Aaron, over the speakers]: Even when most of you fell… you passed.
His voice carried no celebration, no sympathy—only a detached finality.
[Dr. Aaron]: You've survived two of the three trials. That is enough to be granted entrance into the academy. Congratulations—however hollow that word may sound right now.
The monitors lit up across the wall behind them, rows of names scrolling in crimson and white. Some had a line through them. Others pulsed with green or amber.
[Dr. Aaron]: You will be graded and classed based on your performance during the trials. Your ranks: S, A, B, C, D, E, and… F.
He paused.
[Dr. Aaron]: Do not concern yourselves with the dead. They've already been… recovered. You'll find them in class now, as if nothing happened. Though I imagine the wiser among you will understand something did.
A mechanical hiss sounded as the door to the chamber opened, revealing a long hallway illuminated by sterile, artificial light.
[Dr. Aaron]: Now go. You are a cadet of this academy. Your next battle… begins in the classroom.
Zero glanced at Grant, still gripping the pistol he'd taken from the attacker.
[Zero]: Do you think they remember dying?
[Grant]: If they don't, they'll remember the pain that came before it. And if they do… maybe they'll take this seriously now.
Zero wiped the blood from his blade and stood.
[Zero]: Let's go. I want to see what kind of hell a Class B gets to walk into.
As they exited, a few of the other students followed—some shaken, some eerily calm. No one spoke. Not yet.
[chapter end]