There were no exams left for him.
No sparring matches.No simulations.No more AI systems that could teach him anything he hadn't already broken.
Damien Thorne had outgrown Xyprus Academy.
Even the Head Council—famed for their pride, paranoia, and chokehold on talent—could no longer deny it.
Internal Memo – Xyprus High Command
"AI learning systems fail to adapt mid-fight against Thorne."
"Fusion-enhanced instructors report repeated injuries during sparring."
"Curriculum strain: subject outpaces advancement speed by exponential margins."
Recommendation: Graduate immediately. Control is no longer possible. Observation only.
The Ceremony
The Hall of Triumph had never been this full. The air shimmered with holographic banners, each projecting his name in gold script. Students and faculty—those who once feared, envied, or quietly prayed for his downfall—now stood under one purpose:
To say goodbye.
A giant holo-statue rose behind the podium. Damien's likeness: fists wrapped, chin slightly raised, golden eyes etched into shifting light.
Beneath the image, the words glowed in bold serif:
Damien Thorne — First Unaugmented Champion. Unmeasurable. Unbreakable.
Dean Raxus approached, robes trailing, expression unreadable. He held the platinum seal—Xyprus' highest honor—as if it were a relic.
"You taught us," Raxus began, voice carrying through the amplified air, "that greatness isn't synthetic. That fire can't be coded. You reminded us what it means to earn your strength… and to respect the power of those who do."
The crowd waited for Damien to speak. Some leaned forward, eager for one last rallying cry.
He said nothing.
Just a single nod.
Somehow, it carried more weight than a speech ever could.
Later — The Rooftop
The academy's highest rooftop was quiet except for the wind cutting past its steel railings. Damien found Mila exactly where he expected—same spot, same scowl, arms crossed. Her side was still wrapped in fresh bandages, and her glare was still sharp enough to cut glass.
"So that's it?" she asked, not turning to face him. "You just leave? After all that?"
"I don't belong here anymore."
"You never belonged anywhere. That didn't stop you before."
He let out a soft laugh. That was fair.
"You'll be fine," he said, walking closer. "You're smarter than me anyway."
She looked down, jaw tightening, fighting an expression she didn't want him to see.
"That's not the point, Damien."
He stopped beside her, the wind ruffling both their hair. Slowly, he reached into his jacket and pulled out something: his academy badge. The one he'd worn since year one.
"Here," he said, pressing it into her palm.
She frowned. "Why?"
"So you don't forget."
"Forget what?"
"That I'm coming back for you."
For a long moment, neither spoke. Two orphans of fate, standing shoulder to shoulder, holding onto the one thread of stability they had: each other.
Finally, Mila broke the silence. "You better."
Departure
The academy gates slid open without ceremony. No guards. No farewells. Just the sky overhead, the wind at his back, and the unknown stretching ahead.
No destination. No roadmap.
Only a name.
His own.
And the weight it now carried.
Elsewhere – Unseen Transmission
Deep underground, a Sanctum Agent knelt before a hooded figure draped in black. Torches cast shadows that made the stone walls look alive.
"He's gone," the agent reported. "Left the academy."
The hooded figure's lips curved almost imperceptibly. "Good."
"Do we follow?"
The figure's voice was gravel dragged over metal.
"No. We wait. The world will find him for us. And when it does…" A pause, deliberate and slow. "…he'll come to us."
The agent bowed lower. "And the sister?"
"Leave her. For now."
The figure's hand tightened into a fist, the knuckles popping audibly. "The hunt begins with the stronger prey."
Damien's journey had begun.
Not to conquer. Not to escape.
But to find the next mountain.
Because for him… even gods can grow stronger.