(Rodova Military Academy – The Circuits Team Changing Room)
Following the final selections, Yu Shen gathered the newly assembled Rodova Circuits Team inside the academy's official changing room.
The space, though functional, carried the weight of decades of history, the scent of sweat and polish lingering in the air, as worn-down lockers lined the walls.
The ten mbers each sat quietly before their assigned lockers, with Leo and Su Yang noticeably occupying two seats that once belonged to familiar faces. Leo sat beneath the naplate etched with 'Khyaal,' while Su Yang found himself in front of 'Faizan.'
Neither comnted on it, yet the room felt it.
Yu Shen paced slowly around the room, arms crossed behind his back, a small but genuine smile softening his otherwise sharp features.
"This is it, guys," Su Yang suddenly spoke, breaking the silence as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "We are the team that's going to make history this year. We're the team that's going to WIN the circuits for Rodova after decades of coming up short!"
His words imdiately shifted the atmosphere, as chuckles, nods, and murmurs of agreent spread like wildfire.
Leo, usually indifferent to such speeches, felt a subtle warmth stir in his stomach as the atmosphere turned rowdy with laughter and high spirits.
Yu Shen let them have their mont before raising a hand.
"Alright, alright—quiet down." He waited until the room settled. "It's safe to say no one here objects to Leo and Su Yang joining this room officially. Frankly, even if they didn't pass through today's selection, I would've sold my kidneys to get them on the team sohow."
A ripple of laughter passed through the room, lightening the mood.
"But thankfully, I won't need to do that," Yu Shen added with a nervous chuckle. "Khyaal and Faizan are gone now. We won't forget them, but we also can't linger on it. They contributed imnsely to this team's growth, and the best way to honor their legacy—" Yu Shen's eyes narrowed with resolve, "—is to win the circuits for them."
The room fell respectfully silent for a brief mont, before heads began nodding.
"We have two weeks," Yu Shen continued. "Subtract the Grand Parade, opening ceremony, dia obligations, and two full days are gone. The final day is for rest, recovery, and getting your injuries patched up. That leaves us with eleven real days."
He scanned every mber's face, letting the pressure sink in.
"Eleven days. That's it."
"And no," he added bluntly, "unless one of you sohow ascends past your limits and becos a Grandmaster overnight, your power level is pretty much locked in. So stop chasing breakthroughs."
His eyes swept across the room.
"Instead, consolidate what you already have. Polish it. Refine it. Because in the circuits, just like in life, the saying holds true—'Fear not the man who knows a thousand moves, but fear the man who has practiced the sa move a thousand tis.'"
Yu Shen's voice dropped a tone, final and sharp.
"Am I clear?"
A resounding "Yes, Captain!" echoed through the room without hesitation.
As Yu Shen allowed himself another indulgent smile.
"Currently, all the other academies have no idea as to what Skyshard and Yang are capable of. And although they will try their best to gather information—by contacting soone from their class, or even the teaching staff—the information they will gather will always be incomplete at best."
"Skyshard and Yang are wild cards for our team, and if we preserve them long enough, no team will be able to create a proper counter-strategy against them," Yu Shen explained, as everyone nodded in agreent.
"With four Grandmaster warriors on this team… this is undoubtedly the STRONGEST team we have had in years."
"However, circuits are not won by the number of Grandmasters you have. They are won by team effort and heart."
"Decades ago, when we lost our top spot to Geneva, they only had two Grandmasters compared to our four—and yet we still lost because their fighters had more courage and heart."
"So this year, that's what I ask from all of you."
"Show heart."
"Till the last second, refuse to give up. Even if you can't finish an opponent, as long as you injure them or tire them out, your team mber will sweep in and finish the job!" Yu Shen said, locking eyes with every non-Grandmaster team mber, as though warning them that their resolve would matter more than their raw strength.
"Alright, I won't take much more of your ti."
"Let's give the new mbers their team jackets and special uniforms."
"And let's teach them the team anthem."
Yu Shen said as he gestured for Leo and Su Yang to step forward, handing them each their team jackets and fresh uniforms.
The jacket was black and gold with white-lined collars and a velvet finish.
It hugged the body like it had been tailored personally, warm yet dignified, with the iconic Rodova crest stitched boldly near the heart.
On the right sleeve, the number 55 stood out in sharp embroidery—marking the academy's 55 past championship victories.
Though Rodova had fallen from grace in recent years, it still stood atop the circuit's history, with Geneva trailing far behind at just 35 championships.
As simply wearing it made one feel like they were carrying the weight of generations.
And while the jacket was flashy, the team uniform itself was more modest—a simple shift from their regular academy outfit that now bore the words 'Rodova Circuits Team' over the left chest badge instead of the usual 'Rodova Military Academy' insignia.
As there was no other change to the uniform.
—--------
After Leo and Su Yang finished adjusting their jackets, Yu Shen stepped into the center of the locker room, raising one fist, as all other team mbers joined him, locking their fists in the air, with Leo and Su Yang being the last to follow suit.
"Alright, boys—team chant."
Yu Shen said, as he looked into Leo and Su Yang's eyes, making sure they followed his words closely.
"This chant was made by the first captain of this academy's circuit team, centuries ago.
And till day, we chant it nonetheless—" Yu Shen began, as although he seed a bit embarrassed by the out of fashion chant, he was still proud to keep the tradition alive.
"Repeat after –"
"Strength above all! Heart beyond strength! Rodova forever!" He said slowly, as without hesitation, the entire room erupted.
"STRENGTH ABOVE ALL! HEART BEYOND STRENGTH! RODOVA FOREVER! "
"Again—"
"STRENGTH ABOVE ALL! HEART BEYOND STRENGTH! RODOVA FOREVER! "
Leo blinked, caught off-guard at first, as for a mont, he almost scoffed—
Leo couldn't believe that grown n were chanting gang chants that sounded like poems, yet as he glanced around the room, seeing hardened warriors grinning like kids, so tired but proud, the familiar sense of distance cracked.
He felt sothing rise within him.
It wasn't bloodlust. It wasn't hunger.
It was… warmth.
Foreign. Quiet. But undeniably there.
The atmosphere, the unity, the absurd chant—it stirred sothing faint in him, as though for the first ti, he wasn't just participating for survival or advantage.
As deep down, Leo felt it.
Felt as to how— He did not mind belonging here.
Even if it was just for now.
Even if he knew this was never going to be permanent.
In this instance, he wanted to be a part of this group, and hence, when the chant rang out a third ti, he joined in—not out of obligation, but out of joy.
As he too shouted —
"STRENGTH ABOVE ALL! HEART BEYOND STRENGTH! RODOVA FOREVER! "
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