The city was alive with distant neon lights flickering across towering skyscrapers, their glow barely reaching the cracked pavement below.
Xavier Kael leaned against the rusted bus stop railing, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his worn jacket. Sixteen years old, barely standing at five foot nine, built lean but strong. His muscles weren't sculpted like a professional fighter's—his body was shaped by survival rather than training. His dark hair was messy, strands falling into sharp eyes that rarely showed emotion. His skin carried faint scars, souvenirs of street fights that never mattered.
Tonight, none of those fights mattered.
He was leaving.
The bus screeched to a halt in front of him. The doors hissed open, revealing rows of silent passengers, each with the same destination—Aurum Combat Academy. He stepped inside, scanning the faces of the other students. Some looked excited, others indifferent, but most were anxious.
The academy wasn't a place people entered for fun.
He took a seat near the window, watching as the city blurred into the distance. Outside, the world functioned as a battlefield disguised as civilization. Combat ruled everything—from corporations to politics, from military recruitment to underground syndicates. The strong dictated laws, while the weak existed only to serve them.
Aurum Combat Academy was the gateway to that world.
The bus ride felt longer than it should have, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken expectations. No one spoke. No one asked questions. They already knew what was waiting for them at the end of this road.
After nearly an hour, the academy came into view.
Massive steel walls stretched endlessly in both directions, reinforced with layered security gates and armed surveillance drones that hovered above like vultures waiting for weakness. The main building was an architectural fortress—cold, unyielding, a maze of concrete towers and sharp metallic edges. Floodlights illuminated the academy's insignia, a mark of prestige recognized across the world.
The bus rolled to a stop in front of the registration hall. The doors slid open.
Xavier stepped out, adjusting the strap of his duffel bag. The academy grounds were expansive, pathways splitting off toward training centers, dormitory sectors, and lecture halls designed like massive auditoriums. Everything was built for efficiency—no unnecessary decoration, no softness in structure. Just purpose.
Students lined up near the registration office, a high-ceilinged hall equipped with automated counters where academy officials processed admissions. There were no welcoming speeches, no formal greetings. Just a scan of identification chips, a verification of combat history, and the assignment of ranks.
He approached the counter when his name flashed across the screen.
"Xavier Kael. Incoming student. Rank: Unassigned."
The official barely glanced at him before gesturing toward the ranking terminals.
"Proceed with registration. Next."
Xavier exhaled slowly, moving toward the ranking system. A large holographic screen displayed student placements, names shifting constantly as battles took place across the academy grounds. His own status remained blank—for now.
The system scanned his biometric data, categorizing his entry placement.
A few moments later, his rank appeared.
**Rank: 312. Lower Dorms.**
No surprise there.
His gaze flicked to the ranking board, scanning the top placements. The elite fighters occupied the first ten spots, their names recognized across the combat industry. Wealth, power, sponsorships—they controlled everything.
The lower ranks controlled nothing.
And right now, he was at the bottom.
A voice cut through his thoughts.
"You new?"
He turned slightly, eyes landing on a second-year student standing near the terminal. Tall, lean, too relaxed for someone in a brutal academy. His uniform bore his name—Rei Voss.
"Lower Dorms?" Rei asked, his smirk barely fading.
Xavier didn't respond.
Rei chuckled. "Hope you like bleeding."
Xavier clenched his jaw, gripping his bag tighter as he turned toward the dormitory section.
This was only the beginning.