The arena had barely settled after Sharif's explosive victory when the announcer's voice echoed again.
> "Next Match: Tisha vs. Alden!"
This time, the crowd reacted differently.
Tisha—the quiet girl with ash-blonde hair and soft violet eyes—looked nothing like a fighter. She wore a modest combat uniform, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and a silver band on each wrist. She stood with her hands calmly clasped in front of her, eyes downcast.
Her opponent, Alden, on the other hand, was infamous.
The boy with the burning gaze. His quirk allowed him to crush objects with his voice alone. Rumors said he once cracked a concrete wall by screaming at it.
The crowd buzzed.
— "Tisha? Against him?"
— "What can she do? She's just... normal."
But beneath her soft features lay a secret power—and a broken past.
Tisha's quirk was unique. She could create a mental "world" and trap anyone within 100 meters inside it. She called it Sanctum. Inside that domain, she could manipulate space, perception, and even emotions. However, her ability had a critical flaw—if the target's willpower was stronger than hers, the illusion would shatter.
And Tisha… had very little willpower left.
Ever since she was a child, her ability frightened people. Her parents, her friends—everyone avoided her. They said her power was unnatural. That it made them feel like they were drowning in their own memories. Eventually, Tisha stopped using it.
She smiled less.
Spoke less.
But today, she had no choice.
If she didn't fight, she wouldn't pass. If she didn't pass, she wouldn't meet the people she saw glimpses of during the chip test—the other six. The ones who, for some strange reason, made her heart feel… light.
She stepped onto the arena.
Across from her stood Alden. Tall, muscular, and already cracking his knuckles.
> "You sure you're ready to fight, princess?" he sneered.
Tisha didn't answer. She simply closed her eyes.
The whistle blew.
"BEGIN!"
Alden's mouth opened wide—
> "ROOOOAAAA—"
Suddenly, the sound stopped.
Alden blinked.
He wasn't in the arena anymore.
The sky was purple. The ground was like glass, reflecting stars beneath his feet. Trees made of crystal surrounded him, and in the middle of it all stood Tisha, glowing faintly with silver light.
> "What… the hell is this?"
Tisha's voice was soft, yet it echoed through the dreamlike forest.
> "This is Sanctum."
Alden's hand twitched. He opened his mouth and tried to shout again, to unleash his destructive voice. But no sound came out. His voice was gone.
> "In here," Tisha whispered, "your power doesn't work unless I allow it."
> "What are you, a god?" Alden growled.
> "No," she said gently. "I'm just someone who doesn't want to fight... but has to."
Alden snarled and charged at her, fists swinging.
The world shifted.
The forest stretched and twisted. Vines grew from the glassy ground and wrapped around his legs. Illusions of his past flashed in the sky—his childhood, his anger, his moments of pain. Tisha's power didn't just trap the body—it touched the soul.
Alden screamed. Not with his voice, but with his mind.
> "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"
He forced his way forward, breaking vines, pushing through the phantoms.
Tisha's brow furrowed. Her knees trembled. Inside the Sanctum, she could feel his resistance. His will was stronger than she expected.
If he pushed just a little harder, the illusion would break.
No, she thought. Not yet. Just hold... just a little longer...
She closed her eyes and poured her will into the world.
The illusion cracked.
Alden roared.
But then—
Tisha whispered something.
> "Sanctum: Heart Mirror."
Suddenly, Alden was standing in front of a mirror. In the reflection, he saw himself. Not the strong version. The weak, angry, scared boy he used to be.
> "You're not strong because of your power," Tisha's voice echoed.
"You're strong because you keep fighting… even when you're afraid."
Alden stopped.
The vines loosened.
The world fell quiet.
And then, the illusion faded.
Alden dropped to his knees in the real arena. He gasped for breath. Sweat rolled down his face.
The crowd was silent.
They had seen nothing.
To them, the match lasted only seconds.
The announcer, stunned, finally said—
> "Winner: Tisha!"
Tisha stood still.
She looked around.
No applause. No cheers.
But no fear, either.
For the first time, no one looked at her like a monster.
As she stepped off the field, her fingers trembled. She held them together tightly.
> "I did it," she whispered. "I held on."
From a corner, Sohan and the others—Rakib, Sharif, Rajib—watched quietly.
Rakib grinned.
> "She's not just strong," he said. "She's terrifying."
Sharif smiled faintly.
> "She's one of us."
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