Orion was waiting patiently for the door to his room to open as Nova had promised. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of dirty jeans he got from the closet. They fit so terribly, at first glance could tell they did not belong to him.
He had the blades strapped to his side, as he sat in a meditative position.
A sharp beep echoed through the air.
With a soft hiss, the locked door slid open, revealing a narrow, dimly lit passageway.
No—it wasn't just a corridor. It was a tunnel.
Orion's footsteps reverberated against the walls, the sound bouncing unnaturally in the enclosed space. Underground, then. He moved forward steadily, senses sharp, until the tunnel gave way to a square-shaped chamber—not too large, but not suffocatingly small either.
The moment he stepped inside, the door behind him slammed shut.
Orion didn't flinch. His fingers tightened around the hilts of his twin blades as he waited.
Then, the voice came.
"Kill all the hollows to advance to the next stage."
The words echoed from unseen speakers, cold and mechanical.
Above him, the ceiling rippled—and then they fell.
Ten figures, their bodies crashing down like cannonballs.
Orion's mark ignited, a deep crimson glow pulsing from his forehead, and in a single breath, he lunged forward.
He knew hollows. He a seen them before. He ran from them before, his childhood had been filled with encounters against the corrupted beings, He had faced them in the pits of the Church of Atonement too, thrown into battle like discarded trash
These creatures were once human. Now, they were nothing more than blood-red-eyed, fanged, and clawed beasts, driven by a single instinct—to kill
The first hollow lashed out.
Orion parried the strike with his right blade and, in the same motion, drove the left blade straight through its chest.
A shriek. A spasm. Dead.
The second came from behind. Orion pivoted—ducked under its claw—and thrust his sword into its skull.
They swarmed.
Claws. Teeth. Bloodlust.
But his blades danced.
Metal clashed against bone, the room filled with the sharp ring of steel and the guttural hisses of dying beasts.
Clang. Slash. Dodge. Counter.
With a sudden burst of force, Orion kicked the leading hollow, sending the pack staggering backward.
Power thrummed through his mark, flooding into his swords. The hollow energy pulsed, crackling along the steel.
He dove back in.
This time, his thrust carried the weight of that energy—a shockwave exploded outward, blasting the remaining hollows apart.
In the opening he had carved, Orion moved like a phantom—striking, slicing, severing.
Hack. Hack. Slash.
No wasted movement. No hesitation.
And then—silence.
His chest rose and fell, breath steady despite the exertion. A slow drip of viscous black blood slid down the length of his blade.
With a flick of his wrist, he cleaned them.
A low hiss sounded from the opposite side of the chamber. The next door slid open.
Orion didn't pause.
He stepped forward and walked through.
This time, the tunnel sloped upward—almost imperceptibly.
Orion's fingers twitched around his blades as he walked. "Are we going up?" he muttered, scanning the dimly lit path ahead.
The incline continued for a while until he arrived at another square-shaped chamber—identical to the last.
Just like before, the door behind him locked shut with a resounding clang.
Then came the voice.
"Kill all the hollows to advance to the next stage."
Orion exhaled sharply. Even the command was the same.
But this time, there were twenty hollows.
A slow smile stretched across his face. His forehead mark blazed red, the energy pulsing like a heartbeat.
With a sharp click, he clashed his twin blades together, the ringing sound slicing through the air.
Then—he dived into the fray.
Far from the battlefield, Nova watched intently as the selection process unfolded on the large screen before him.
By his side, Geraldth stood dutifully, pouring a drink with practiced ease. The middle-aged man, though loyal, could not help but question his lord's judgment.
Why invest so much in this boy?
Nova had already sacrificed half their resources to rehabilitate him—a reckless gamble, given their precarious position in this division.
Still, he knew better than to speak out of turn.
Instead, Nova spoke first.
"Geraldth, you who pride yourself on your knowledge—can you identify his sin mark?"
The old man studied the screen, his brows knitting together.
"I have never seen this sin mark before, my Lord," he admitted.
Nova took a sip of his drink, his gaze unwavering.
"His swordsmanship is good, but he fights like a virtue wielder," Geraldth continued. "Too disciplined. He lacks the aggression and dominance of a true Sinbound. His talent is evident, but if his mark is too insignificant… he will fail the compatibility test."
He hesitated before adding, "Master, why him?"
Nova's eyes gleamed, though his face remained impassive.
"Because he is like us," he said simply.
"Alone in a foreign land. Betrayed by what he believed in. Surrounded by traps and enemies. Everyone expects him to die—but he fights against the current anyway. That alone makes him worthy of being an ally."
He set down his drink.
"I would rather have an incompetent ally than a treacherous one."
Geraldth bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the sentiment.
"I understand, Lord." Then, after a brief pause, he asked, "Do you wish for me to create a situation to force out his Anima?"
Nova shook his head.
"Even if we force it out, unless it's a famous one, we'll still be at a disadvantage when dealing with him."
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"If he comes in second, just kill the first. No need to complicate things."
"Yes! Lord" Geraldth answered turning his gaze toward the screen. Orion had just finished decimating the low-level hollow group and was wiping his blade. The faint tattoo marks on his forehead were pulsating faintly, for a second old man Geralth could swear he saw a reflection of himself within those marks.
He took a deep breath before repositioning himself beside his lord. His lord's words were absolute, if you squint your eyes, and twist your head a little bit the boy was quite pleasing to the eye.