The siren’s sound dropped low enough to rattle teeth. Panels in the center of the arena slid apart again. A lift rose from the dark, carrying the sa cage. Shapes moved behind the bars - bigger, heavier. The host’s voice tried to stay cheerful.
"Neoshima, administrative surprise! Class Four. Please secure your expectations... And your limbs."
The bars dropped with a sharp sound, and the... Things inside... Stepped out.
They were still vaguely human, but wrong in all the ways they could be wrong. Shoulders were wide and covered in dark, bone-like plates. Their spines were ridged. So forearms were just thick cleavers or blunt hamrs. Heavy cords like muscle wrapped their legs, like cables built only for leaping and smashing.
The floor shook as the platform lowered again, sealing the danger inside. The crowd roared, then parts of it went quiet. A boy in a yellow-blinking suit sprinted at the closest Class 4 with a spear held low.
The Nyx barely slowed down: Without even looking at him, it swung one cleaver arm in a lazy half-circle. The Luminite spear snapped in half. The blow caught the boy in the chest and launched him backward like a broken doll. He hit a wall, bounced off, and didn’t get up.
His suit flashed straight to red. It stiffened, locking the joints. A chanical arm dropped from the side of the arena, grabbed him, and took him out of the field. Two more candidates rushed in together - one tried to go for the legs, while the other one jumped for the neck.
The Class 4 took one step forward and swung both arms. The one midair went flying back, falling to the ground like a rock. The other got hit by the dull side of the Nyx’s arm. Two more red suits. Two more steel arms swooping in to collect them.
The Nyxes barely made an effort. They moved slower, but two tis faster when it mattered. They didn’t rush mindlessly like the other Nyxes.
The host let out a sharp breath. "Friendly reminder, folks, Class Fours hit harder than your life choices you still regret. The suits still pull you before you die, but let’s not stress-test the system, okay?"
On the board, numbers dropped fast. Thirty-nine candidates beca low thirty. Nas dimd every second.
Raizen t his first Class 4 in a narrow lane between two broken stalls. He heard it first. Heavy steps, a deep scrape of armor against stone. Then the thing forced itself around the corner, its plated shoulders grinding against the wall as it squeezed through.
Up close, it was worse.
The blunt arm was lifted. Its head tilted a little too far to the side, like it was trying to understand him.
Raizen moved in first. He closed the distance quickly, like he had done against Class 3s, and aid for the inside of the elbow. His blade flashed up in a tight swing. The Luminite edge hit the joint. The impact jolted through his arm like he had just smashed into a solid rock. Half the plating cracked, but only a little, not enough.
The Nyx didn’t flinch. Its arm deflected Raizen’s sword, and the other arm ca across in a brutal backhand. Raizen twisted, but the hit still caught him across both forearms and the chest.
His vision snapped sideways.
Slamming into the far wall, his teeth clicked together. All the air left his lungs at once. Yellow warnings flashed across his suit, as it buzzed at his spine. Heart rate too high, impact warning, slight overload risk. He sucked in a wheezed breath that felt like inhaling smoke.
"...And our fast swordsman just learned a very important lesson: Class Three solutions do not work on Class Fours." The host’s voice cut through the noise, a little higher than before.
Raizen forced his thoughts steady. "Don’t try to compare strength. Look for gaps. "
The Class 4 swung again, this ti in a brutal downward chop that would split Raizen in half if it connected.
He didn’t try to stop it. He stepped inside the swing, barely dodging it. The dark blade swung past his shoulder close enough that he felt the wind from it. His sword snapped up, not at the armor, but at the small vulnerable strip where armor plate t chest. Just like he did with Class 3.
The edge cut - not deep, but more than enough.
The Nyx staggered, arm dropping just a little.
Raizen didn’t hesitate - he slid behind it, drove his sword down in its back, and pushed with everything he had. The Nyx shuddered, then it collapsed with a weird thud.
Raizen yanked his blade free and stepped back, breathing hard. His shoulder burned. His forearms felt like he’d been blocking trucks.
No ti to rest. Another Class 4 roared in the distance. Soone scread. Sowhere else a crowd of voices rose in shock. Up on a bridge, another Nyx landed with a heavy thud that made the tal ring. Two candidates tried to hold it with two shields and short swords.
It slamd both mace-like limbs straight down.
One shield exploded like cheap glass. The other flew from the user’s arm. Both candidates slid backward, boots skidding on the floor, suits flashing orange.
Keahi stepped between them and the Nyx before Raizen could reach them. She didn’t waste ti on words, her claymore glowing with fire and a steady light. The Nyx swung anyways. She t the first mace with the flat of her blade, redirecting with the force instead of taking it head-on. The second mace swung quickly for her ribs.
She stepped away at the last second and cut across its knee. Once. Twice. On the third strike the leg finally gave out, and the class 4 Nyx fell to one knee. Keahi didn’t go for anything fancy - one strong chop across the neck and the job was done.
The board spat a thick stack of points under her na, but she didn’t even glance at it.
High above, Arashi moved along a thin bridge, both pistols already thundering. One Class 4 charged straight at him, blades carving long grooves in the tal.
He dropped to one knee. Three quick shots, all at the exact sa point on its ankle: The first cracked the armor. The second crushed it. The third finished it.
Sa pattern. It didn’t matter if it were class 3 or 4. For him, it worked.
On a platform below, Esen slamd his fists together and laughed. He threw a punch at empty air. The shockwave he made was not weak, though. It ripped forward, crashing into a Class 4 and blasting it into a wall, shattering it.
The crowd went crazy, but the host groaned. "Esen, I respect the enthusiasm, but the dical departnt doesn’t."
Even fewer nas left.
Raizen’s position: sowhere in the middle. Not quite terrible... But not safe either.
Hikari’s na was still there. Her score was way higher than his. Again.
Suddenly, the siren sounded again.
This ti, when the center plates opened and the lift rose, the cages were empty.
No more Class 4s.
"Uhh... We are out of Class Fours. Good job, I guess... But don’t ask for anything bigger..." The host gave a short, surprised laugh.
The scoreboard still glowed with many nas.
Too many.
The host’s tone dropped a level. "Well... That’s a lot of courage in one bowl. But the Lotus Academy doesn’t have that many seats..."
The crowd fell quiet.
"Candidates" the host said, voice clear now, "The hunting phase is now over."
Every candidate on the field went still for half a beat.
"From here on" the host went on, "you don’t fight monsters. You fight each other."
The words hit harder than the siren.
A murmur ran through the crowd. "...What does that even an...?"
"In other words..." The speakers roared.
"From now on, you’re on your own."
In a broken concourse, two sword users who’d been moving side by side stepped away from each other, lifting their guards. On a ruined balcony, three candidates who’d been helping each other take down a Class 4 down suddenly stopped talking. Down a lower lane, soone turned around and checked who was behind him, now that there were no monsters left to watch.
The host kept explaining. "Your suits still lock before anything permanent. No killing. No mistakes. No "oops, my weapon slipped!" do you understand?
More nervous looks were thrown.
"It’s still safe... Mostly. Don’t worry. You get points for clean takedowns, control, initiative. No points for being a ssy idiot."
He let that sink in, then added:
"Top ten in total score go through. Not just the last ten standing. If you get pulled out now but your score beats soone who stayed, you still pass."
For a mont, no one moved.
...Then chaos broke out at once.
On a tilted tram roof, two candidates slamd into each other, blades out. One got his leg swept from under him. His suit flashed red and locked. He hit the ground stiff and helpless.
The chanical arm grabbed him and pulled him away, as his opponent was already looking for his next target, score jumping a few slots up.
Raizen glanced up at the scoreboard. Soone with fewer Nyx kills had just climbed past him after a single takedown. Another candidate landed a choke on a spear user, forced their suit into a lock, and jumped three spots in one move.
Helping people barely nudged Raizen’s number.
His first plan had been simple: kill more Nyxes than anyone else, save people when he could, avoid pointless clashes, let the exam chew out the reckless ones.
Now the Nyxes were gone. Every monster kill he could get, he already had. The only targets left in the arena were people.
If he kept dodging human fights, he was going to slide down the board while others climbed over each other.
Suddenly, his mind drifted. He rembered Takeshi’s words.
Spare more than I did.
Don’t celebrate it.
Carry the living forward instead.
Of course. This wasn’t war. But The Academy was the gate to war. The true war, with true Nyxes. Not these Shades or Reavers. The ones you don’t even stand a chance against. The ones that truly horrify you. Compared to them, class four were rely jokes.
If he failed here, he didn’t get to stand where it really mattered.
Soone else would. Soone who might not protect the way he wanted the world protected.
Another clean takedown popped on the board. Soone else jumped ahead. His own na dropped a spot without him doing anything wrong.
He understood it now.
If he wanted to reach the Lotus Academy, he would have to cut down everyone between him and that door.
Not just monsters. People who wanted the sa thing he did. Maybe for other reasons.
He tightened his grip until his fingers hurt inside the gloves. There had to be a way to do it his way. Fast, clean takedowns. No cruelty, no cheap shots on soone already half-broken. But still takedowns. Because if he lost here, there would be no Nyxes for him. No Vanguards. No front line.
He looked across the arena. Fights were exploding in every direction now. Keahi’s claymore knocked a spear aside and the flat part slamd against soone’s chestplate hard enough to force their suit into a lock.
Esen looked far too happy as he blasted soone into the ground before their suit flashed red. Drones sward, trying to catch every clash.
A small screen flickered - a blurred feed of a vertical lane. A blue staff flash. A kneeling suit locking. Then the cara lost her again.
Hikari’s na kept climbing. Just ghost points, climbing quickly.
Now it was his turn.
Too many nas, not enough seats.
If the only way to reach the front line was to cut everyone else out of the way, then that’s what he would do.
If there aren’t any monsters left
...He was going to be the monster
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