Noah woke to sunlight streaming through the half-drawn blinds of the dorm room. He blinked sleep away, montarily disoriented as the events of the previous night ca flooding back—showing Kelvin his abilities, the relief of finally sharing his secret with soone else who knew. It had been liberating.
He glanced across the room. Kelvin's bed was empty, already made. Unusual for his typically chaotic roommate.
As Noah sat up, he spotted the Raven tablet sitting innocuously on the table where he'd left it last night. A slight pang of guilt hit him; he'd been so caught up in the excitent of revealing his abilities that he'd completely forgotten about the device. Not his wisest move.
'Best not to leave evidence lying around.'
Noah reached for the tablet, not bothering to check its contents. Whatever Raven had stored on it, he didn't need to know. He simply needed it gone. With a practiced ntal command, he activated his Void Storage ability, feeling the tablet dematerialize as it was pulled into the dinsional pocket only he could access.
Problem solved. For now.
He stretched, muscles pleasantly sore from yesterday's demonstrations. His Academy uniform hung pressed and ready on the closet door—Kelvin's doing, no doubt. For all his roommate's scattered energy, he could be surprisingly thoughtful.
Noah checked the ti: 06:45. He had fifteen minutes before he needed to leave for his eting with Lucas. Just enough ti for a quick shower.
As the water cascaded over him, Noah ntally reviewed what he knew about his friend Lucas Grey. Year Three top-ranked student. Lightning-type ability, officially classified as S-tier offensive. Rumored to have taken down a rogue A-class threat during a supervised field exercise last sester. And one of the few people at the Academy who knew there was more to Noah's abilities than his official classification suggested.
Lucas had figured it out months ago. Noah had never explicitly confird anything, but Lucas was too perceptive to be fooled by the "non-combat talent" designation in Noah's file. To his credit, he'd kept Noah's secret without demanding explanations, offering instead a kind of unspoken alliance between them.
'And now he wants to spar. Great.'
Noah wasn't naive. There was a gap between Year One and Year Three students that no amount of talent could easily bridge. Lucas wasn't just any Year Three, either—he was 'the' Year Three, the undisputed apex of student talent at the Academy.
But Noah had his system. Even without revealing his full abilities, his Chi augntation techniques were leagues beyond what most students could achieve. That had to count for sothing.
Right?
The Year Three block stood apart from the rest of the Academy—both literally and figuratively. Its sleek, modern design contrasted with the more traditional architecture of the main campus buildings, rising like a gleaming silver sentinel on the northern edge of the grounds.
As Noah approached, he could feel the subtle vibration of the building's enhanced defensive shields—significantly stronger than those protecting the Year One dormitories. Everything about the building communicated its elevated status, right down to the biotric scanner that greeted him at the entrance.
"Noah Eclipse," he stated clearly, placing his palm against the scanner's surface.
The machine humd softly. "Identity confird. Year One, Class B. Visitor clearance granted by Lucas Grey, Year Three. Proceed to Training Facility Four."
The place he was headed now was different from where Lucas and him usually t. Which explained the unusual clearance this ti.
Noah stepped through the sliding doors and into a spacious lobby that stretched upward, light filtering down from skylights five stories above. A few upperclassn lounged in conversational clusters around the space, several glancing up to track his progress as he made his way to the elevators. Being a Year One in this building was like wearing a bright neon sign.
Training Facility Four was located on the third floor, according to the building's directory. Noah stepped into an elevator, noting the retinal scanner that replaced the usual button panel.
"Training Facility Four," he stated.
The elevator humd to life, ascending smoothly. Seconds later, the doors parted to reveal a wide, brightly lit corridor lined with reinforced training rooms. Noah could hear muffled impacts and the occasional flash of ability-generated light through observation windows as he passed.
At the end of the corridor, a set of double doors labeled "TF-4" stood partially open. Noah took a deep breath and stepped through.
The training facility was enormous—easily three tis the size of the Year One combat arena. The floor was covered in impact-absorbing material that felt firm yet slightly yielding underfoot. Observation galleries ringed the upper walls, currently empty. The ceiling was studded with what appeared to be holographic projectors and various monitoring devices.
And in the center of it all stood Lucas Grey.
The Year Three student was taller than Noah by a few inches, his fra lean but corded with well-defined muscle. He wore standard-issue training gear: reinforced tank top and loose-fitting pants, with his Academy ID badge clipped to a band around his upper arm.
"You made it," Lucas said with a genuine smile, walking over to clasp Noah's forearm in greeting. "For a minute I thought you might have overslept after whatever excitent you got up to last night."
Noah returned the greeting, surprised as always by the strength in Lucas's grip. "Nothing that interesting. Just roommate stuff."
Lucas gave him a knowing look. "Right. 'Roommate stuff.' The sa way what I do is just 'lightning stuff.'"
Noah laughed despite himself. This was their usual dance—Lucas letting him know he suspected more without pressing for details, Noah neither confirming nor denying.
"So," Noah said, changing the subject, "your ssage was pretty cryptic after the last match. 'et at TF-4, bring your A-ga.' What's the occasion?"
Lucas's expression grew more serious. "The Inter-Academy Tournant begins just a week from now From the rankings, it's obvious you're going to make the cut."
"Maybe," Noah hedged. "Rankings aren't everything."
"Please," Lucas scoffed. "False modesty doesn't suit you, Eclipse. You're ranked number one—as a Year One. That's unprecedented."
Noah shrugged. "So I'm doing well. What's your point?"
Lucas began walking toward the center of the training floor, gesturing for Noah to follow. "My point is that you've been steamrolling your classmates with nothing but Chi augntation. It's impressive, but it's also giving you a false sense of security."
"You think I'm getting overconfident?" Noah asked, falling into step beside his friend.
"I think you haven't been properly tested," Lucas clarified. "Look, Noah—the tournant isn't just Academy students. It's the best from all twelve institutes. And trust , what you'll face there will make Raven or any of your past competition look like a toddler throwing a tantrum."
Noah winced at the mory of his latest clash with Raven. "He's not that bad."
"He's exactly that bad," Lucas countered. "But that's not the point. The point is that you need soone to show you what real competition looks like. Soone who isn't a Year One."
Understanding dawned on Noah. "You want to spar with ."
"Bingo." Lucas stopped in the center circle, turning to face Noah fully. "Nothing official. No spectators, no records. Just you and , seeing where you stand."
Noah considered this. "And what's in it for you? Aside from the joy of pumling a Year One, that is."
Lucas grinned. "Maybe I'm just being a good friend. Or maybe I'm bored. Or maybe I'm curious to see how much you've been holding back in your official matches."
Noah kept his expression neutral. "I don't hold back."
"Right," Lucas drawled, clearly not believing him. "And I'm secretly terrible at lightning manipulation."
Noah sighed. "Fine. What are the rules?"
"Simple," Lucas replied. "Since you seem committed to not using whatever your actual ability is—at least not officially—I'll forgo my lightning. No abilities—just skill against skill, technique against technique. Pure combat."
"That still leaves you with a pretty substantial advantage," Noah pointed out.
"Of course it does," Lucas agreed cheerfully. "I'm three years ahead of you in training. That's the point. You need to know what you're up against."
Noah shook his head, but he was smiling. "Has anyone ever told you that your teaching thods are a bit... direct?"
"Frequently," Lucas replied, beginning to circle the periter of the training area. "But they work. So, are you in?"
Noah followed Lucas's movent, already ntally preparing himself. "I'm in. Standard training paraters?"
"First to yield or be rendered combat-ineffective loses," Lucas confird. "No permanent damage, no lethal strikes. The facility's safety protocols will intervene if things get out of hand."
Noah nodded, moving to stand opposite Lucas in the center circle. "When do we—"
Before the words left his mouth, Lucas moved.
User Comments
0 comments from readers