The next morning, the academy buzzed louder than usual.
Students clustered in groups, whispering as Arlen Frost stepped through the gates.
It had only been one day since the training simulation — one day since he'd accidentally broken the arena and disrupted every expectation in the power index charts.
> "That's him."
"The Level-3 who blew up the sim room."
"No way, he hacked the system!"
He sighed, pulling his hood a little lower.
> "System," he muttered, "you could've erased some of the data, right?"
> "I erased the internal recordings," the voice replied. "However, multiple students captured visual data externally."
"Meaning?"
> "Viral."
Arlen groaned. "Fantastic."
---
He reached class just as the bell chimed. The moment he entered, every eye turned toward him. Even the instructor paused mid-sentence.
"Arlen Frost," said Instructor Voss, tapping his tablet, "you've made quite an impression."
"I didn't mean to."
"That's usually what people say before something explodes," Voss said dryly, though his tone had more curiosity than anger. "Take your seat. And next time, try not to destroy school property unless you plan to pay for it."
A few students chuckled. Arlen took his seat beside a boy with messy brown hair and an easy grin.
"Dude," the boy whispered, "you have to teach me how to do that energy thing."
Arlen smirked. "Trust me, you don't want to."
"I'm Jay," the boy said, sticking out his hand. "Level-3, but practically a Level-4 if you round up."
"Arlen," he replied, shaking Jay's hand.
"Yeah, I know," Jay said with a grin. "Everyone does."
---
Across the room, a girl with crimson hair and a sharp gaze sat with perfect posture. Her uniform was pristine, and a silver badge — a mark of a top-ranked student — gleamed on her chest.
When Arlen glanced her way, she met his eyes, unflinching.
Her name was Lira Vale, daughter of the Vale Guild's commander — one of the top guilds in the nation. She'd been top of the class since year one. Rumor said she didn't talk much. Rumor also said she never lost.
She looked away, but not before Arlen noticed her eyes flicker briefly — like she was analyzing him.
---
Class ended, and the students spilled out into the hallway. Posters were plastered on every wall, glowing with golden text:
> GUILD ENTRANCE COMPETITION — Two Weeks Away!
Top 10 finishers will be sponsored by national guilds.
Jay whistled low. "That's it, man. The big one. If we win, we can skip the rookie stages and jump straight into guild service."
"I didn't plan on joining any guilds," Arlen said.
Jay blinked. "Bro, what? Everyone dreams of that! Dungeons, artifacts, bounties, fame—"
Arlen smiled faintly. "I've had enough attention for a lifetime."
"Yeah, but think about it — you could actually win!"
Before Arlen could reply, a cold voice cut in.
"Winning takes skill, not luck."
They both turned. Lira stood there, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
"You destroyed training drones, not enemies," she said evenly. "Machines don't bleed. Guild monsters do."
Jay muttered, "Well, good morning to you too."
Arlen wasn't offended. There was something strange about the way she spoke — like she'd already decided he didn't belong here. And somehow, that made him want to prove her wrong.
---
That evening, Arlen found himself back in the training hall. The room had been repaired — spotless now, as if yesterday's chaos had never happened.
He placed his hand on the control pad.
> "System," he whispered, "start low-intensity combat drills."
> "Acknowledged. Neural link established."
Lights flared. A single training drone appeared, hovering quietly.
This time, he didn't push too hard. He focused — refining movement, balance, control. Each strike was smooth, each dodge clean. He practiced timing, footwork, and the way the System fed him feedback: tiny corrections, micro-adjustments to his neural impulses.
When the round ended, he stood in the silence, sweat dripping down his jaw.
> "Progress detected," the System said. "Combat efficiency increased by 13%. Synchronization stable."
"Good," he murmured, breathing steady. "Let's keep it that way."
He turned to leave — but paused. In the corner of his vision, the mark on his wrist pulsed once. Just once.
> "System," he said quietly, "did you notice that?"
> "Affirmative. Energy resonance detected. Source: internal."
"Meaning?"
> "Your body is responding to proximity."
"Proximity to what?"
> "Unknown."
A chill ran through him. Outside, distant thunder rumbled though the night sky was clear.
Somewhere deep inside, something stirred again.
---
That night, Arlen stared at the holographic poster of the upcoming Guild Entrance Competition floating above his desk.
He'd told Jay he wasn't interested. He'd told himself he didn't care.
But as he traced the faint symbol on his wrist, the memory of blue fire and falling stars flashed behind his eyes.
Maybe… this was the first step toward the truth.
> "System," he said finally, "sign me up for the competition."
> "Request confirmed."
> "Participant name: Arlen Frost."
The digital chime confirmed the registration, and the mark on his wrist pulsed again — softly, like it approved.
---