*Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!
The heavy creaks of mechanical groaning echoed through the chamber as the giant door in front of them slowly opened under the weight of Amaron's effort.
The sound resonated through the air like a warning, like something sacred was being disturbed.
"Just a little bit more...!" Amaron grunted,
*Hissssssssssssssss!!!
his voice slightly strained as metallic joints in his arms clicked and hissed with every push.
The light from the hallway poured in first, casting long shadows across the floor of the vast chamber within.
Slowly, the silhouettes of several individuals became visible—each one seated or lounging, caught mid-motion as the entrance disrupted whatever they were doing.
Some looked up, distracted from writing or inspecting their weapons.
A few glanced over briefly before returning to their tasks, unfazed by the arrival.
Others barely moved, one even continuing to sleep lazily sprawled out across the floor.
But there were some—several, in fact—who turned their full attention toward the door, their eyes locking on the boy who now stood at its threshold.
Jinn.
Their gazes were piercing, their expressions unreadable.
They said nothing—yet their collective silence screamed volumes.
Every stare seemed to carry judgment.
Not spoken aloud, but unmistakably clear.
As if they were measuring the worth of the one who had inherited the power of their elder sister.
As if daring him to prove that he even deserved to stand here at all.
Jinn, however, didn't flinch.
His jaw was set firm, his spine straight.
His ordinary eye moved steadily from one individual to the next, carefully observing.
Studying.
Measuring them back just the same.
He was surrounded, yes—but he was not daunted nor intimidated.
And one by one, he noticed something about them.
Despite the variety in their stature, their demeanor, their dress—all of them, without exception, bore a striking similarity.
Crimson hair, like fire forged in noble blood, fell across their shoulders or curled along their backs.
The mark of House Sorellia.
Then, his gaze caught something familiar.
Zendrell.
Reclined casually on a long velvet couch, arms stretched across its length, flanked by two other siblings, Zendrell looked as relaxed as ever.
When his eyes met Jinn's, he gave an enthusiastic wave, followed by a smirk and a playful wink, as if this was all just some grand joke to him.
Ahem*
"W-Well, we have arrived," Amaron announced awkwardly, breaking the silence with a nervous stutter.
He glanced around, suddenly all too aware of where he was.
"I'll… I'll leave you all to your business. Good luck, Little Jinn!" he added hastily, stepping back and closing the door with an audible
*thud!
that echoed like the closing of a vault.
Just like that, Jinn was alone—surrounded by the siblings of Venedix.
A pack of wolves.
A den of lions.
A room full of eyes waiting to judge his every breath.
And yet, there was no trace of fear in his eyes.
If anything, this was an opportunity.
A chance to observe the enemy up close.
A chance to understand what made them strong… and what could break them, if ever the time came.
They inspected him as he stood there—some with quiet contempt, others with detached curiosity.
From the tilt of his head to the defiance in his posture, they were measuring every inch of him.
Perhaps some of them were hoping to see him tremble.
But Jinn's resolve did not waver.
The silence stretched long until Jinn finally spoke, his tone flat and unimpressed.
"What? Are we gonna stare at each other all da—"
"Tell me—child," interrupted a voice, calm yet firm.
A woman, sitting not on the couch but on the wide table itself, her legs crossed casually as she studied a pile of documents laid before her.
Her glasses glinted as she raised her eyes to look directly at him.
"Do you know what Eidra is?"
"No," Jinn replied immediately, unbothered and direct.
"Mhm," she hummed with subtle amusement.
Without another word, she slipped the pen from her fingers, closed the document she had been reading, and stood.
Her movements were precise and deliberate—controlled, like someone used to commanding attention.
*click...! *click...! *click...!
The heels of her boots clicked sharply against the polished wood floor as she approached.
"Eidra is the force present in the air we breathe, in the food we eat, in the blood that pumps through our veins," she said calmly.
"It is what makes us… us."
As she walked, her voice resonated with an air of authority, each word sharp and calculated.
Then, with a flick of her wrist, she conjured a stream of crimson energy that surged across her hand
*ROAR!!!
—writhing like serpents of flame licking the air.
The light from it bathed her in a red glow, casting shadows that danced across her pale skin.
"In every civilization, Eidra may be called by different names. They may worship it, fear it, manipulate it—but its essence remains unchanged."
She clenched her fist, and the energy vanished—
*sizzle...
absorbed back into her skin as if it were part of her.
"And you, child," she said as she stepped closer, placing a hand firmly on Jinn's shoulder.
"You carry my sister's battle Eidra—Sunder Surge."
Jinn instinctively shrugged her hand off, his expression tightening.
"I didn't ask for it," he said coldly.
"I was supposed to die. But somehow… I didn't."
She paused, her eyes narrowing.
Before Jinn could speak again, her hand snapped upward and clamped onto his chin with sudden force—lifting it slightly so he would meet her glare.
"Then Venedix must have seen something in you," she whispered, more to herself than him.
"Tch," Jinn scoffed,
*slap!
swatting her hand away.
"Maybe. But I only did what I believed was right. That's it."
A loud yawn echoed from across the room.
Another sibling, a young woman who had been sprawled across the floor moments ago, stretched her arms lazily as she slowly sat upright.
She blinked groggily, then tilted her head.
"It's been ages since big sister chose an apprentice," she muttered.
"I'm curious too—what made her pick you, of all people?"
"W-What would s-s-sister even s-see in a… a filthy Rinari like this b-boy?" came another voice, this one shaky and muffled beneath thick bandages that wrapped around the speaker's entire jaw and neck.
He sat slumped against the far wall, arms crossed and glare steady.
Zendrell paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
Despite the harshness in the others' words, he seemed oddly contemplative.
There was something he saw—something that reminded him of the old days.
Not power.
Not talent.
But something deeper.
It was will.
Jinn's refusal to break.
His unyielding spirit, even when facing impossible odds.
That was a trait that no Eidra could grant.
It was either born within someone, or not at all.
Zendrell wasn't sure what Venedix saw in him—but he had a feeling that was part of it.
Still, Zendrell wasn't one to dwell on such thoughts.
He ruffled his crimson hair with both hands and stood up.
"Enough chatter," he said, walking toward Jinn.
"Merilyn wants us to help you learn how to control that Eidra. Without proper guidance, you'll burst like a faulty conduit during the second trial."
Jinn's brows furrowed, suddenly remembering.
"Wait… one of my friends—Kain—I saw him earlier. That means the rest must be here too. Where are they?"
Zendrell turned, glancing back at him over his shoulder.
"Relax," he said casually.
"Merilyn is overseeing them. Probably putting them through their own training right now."
He stepped to the massive door behind Jinn and gave it a gentle push.
*Creaaaaaaaak!!!
With a deep creak, the door opened swiftly, groaning under its own weight.
"Come on, kid," he said, smirking. "Time to meet Merilyn."
Then, with a small nod and a wicked grin, he added—
"And reunite with your oh-so-beloved friends."