Before the professor could speak.....
A sharp chime cut through the air.
Selene’s earpiece flickered, and her expression shifted instantly. She leaned forward, her practiced poise returning as she addressed the camera.
"Apologies, Professor. We’ll have to pause here." Her voice carried a hushed edge of excitement. "The Education Council has just confirmed—the public broadcast is beginning. In ten seconds."
The studio lights dimmed slightly, the backdrop screen flaring with bold white text.
[PUBLIC BROADCAST INITIATING – 00:10]
The numbers began to tick downward.
10... 9... 8...
Across Aurora, the effect was immediate.
7... 6... 5...
Professor Veylin’s lips pressed into a thin line. His thoughts, heavy and unspoken, sank back beneath the calm surface of his expression. This was no longer the time for him to speak.
This was the time for the world to see.
4... 3... 2... 1...
The countdown dissolved into a radiant flash.
[LIVE FEED – EXAMINATION ARENA]
The space where Michael stood flickered into existence across countless screens, broadcast now to millions of eyes.
And for the first time, Aurora’s public would witness a part of what supernaturals were capable of.
The numbers burned above Michael’s vision, searing themselves into his mind.
[00:00]
The sterile white void trembled.
Michael’s stance tightened automatically, spear angled in front of him. His pulse hammered with the instinct of battle, though there was nothing yet to strike.
Then the world shifted.
The white fell away.
When his vision cleared cleared, Michael found himself standing upon rough stone. Jagged cliffs loomed on either side, carved like the ribs of a colossal beast. The air was heavy with the distant roar of waves. Fog swirled low across the terrain, but it wasn’t the same mist from the last round—this one was natural.
And then—
A panel blazed across his vision.
[ROUND TYPE: TAG]
Active Participants: 500
Rule 1: Ten participants will be selected as Hunters.
Rule 2: Each group of Hunters will be assigned a Target.
Rule 3: Hunters must eliminate their assigned Target within the allotted time.
Failure Condition:
• If Hunters fail to eliminate their Target, 20% of their group will be randomly culled.
• Surviving Hunters will each suffer a penalty of –20 to all stats.
• The Target status will be fully restored, and gain 20 to all stats permanently.
Victory Condition:
• If the Target is slain, Hunters gain 10 to all stats and move on without penalty.
[Special Note:] This round is subject to Public Broadcast. If you’re neither hunting or being hunted, you can do as you please until assignment.
The panel dissolved into smoke, its words searing themselves into Michael’s mind.
For a moment, his chest rose and fell with steady breaths. A hunt... or be hunted..
Back in the real world.
The feed cut from the glowing void of the countdown to a sweeping, bird’s-eye view. The camera soared across a jagged terrain of cliffs and mist, presenting the space like a living map.
Selene’s voice was steady, tinged with awe.
"Viewers, what you’re seeing is a direct feed from the examination arena.. The system is also allowing us to switch perspectives between participants."
The view shifted fluidly, zooming from one cliff to another where scattered youths appeared, weapons drawn, stances braced. Their figures were small at first, but then the camera locked onto one.
Michael Norman.
The broadcast flared brighter, showing his lean frame standing tall upon the stone ridge, spear gripped in his hands. His black hair clung faintly to his forehead, his torn armor revealing the scars of the previous round. For a breath, the audience could see his cold eyes.
Across Bright Academy’s cafeteria, a ripple tore through the students.
"It’s him!" one of Lily’s friends gasped, tugging her arm. "That’s him!"
The screen’s glow painted their faces.
Lily forced her arms to stay crossed, but inside she was just as excited.
So he really did appear.
At the restaurant counter, Aunt Mia’s lips curved upward with a smile.
Michael...
The broadcast didn’t linger only on him—it flickered across different participants, a girl, a boy hefting a broadsword twice his size, another youth shrouded in shadows.
Selene leaned slightly toward the camera, her tone hushed as though confiding in every citizen watching.
"And there you have it... our participants. Five hundred in total. And the rules of this round are... unlike anything we’ve seen before."
The screen split briefly, replaying the system panel in gleaming letters for the public to read.
[ROUND TYPE: TAG]
Ten Hunters are chosen to hunt one Target.
If they fail, 20% of the Hunters are culled, the survivors penalized by –20 stats, while the Target is fully restored and permanently strengthened.
If the Hunters succeed, they each gain 10 stats.
Darius gave a low whistle, shaking his head. "That... is brutal."
Selene turned to Professor Veylin, her eyes sharp with curiosity.
"Professor, may I ask your thoughts? This challenge... is it a test of strength, or something more?"
The camera shifted and lingered on Professor Veylin. He adjusted his glasses with a faint smile, his tone lighter now, less lecturing and almost conversational.
"Brutal, yes," the professor agreed with Darius, adjusting his glasses. "But fascinating. You see, this round isn’t just a simple chase. It’s layered with twists."
He raised a finger, gesturing lightly as though ticking points on an invisible board.
"First: the Hunters always outnumber the Target ten to one. At first glance, the odds seem overwhelming. Ten against one—most people would expect it to end quickly. But the twist is in the penalties. If they fail, the punishment is severe: random elimination, stat reductions, and their supposed prey es back stronger. This makes every attempt dangerous not just for the Target, but for the Hunters as well."
Selene nodded, eyes bright. "So failure turns the hunted into an even greater threat?"
"Exactly," Veylin smiled faintly. "It creates a snowball effect. The longer this round continues, the more terrifying those survivors will bee. Think of it—each failure hands them full recovery and twenty more points to every stat. Imagine two or three cycles of that stacking on one individual... suddenly, the hunters bee the hunted."
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