The first day of the new year at THOE Academy had finally arrived. Korin had given Ben all the necessary information in advance, so he knew exactly where to go and what to do.
"Do you want me to come with you to show you to your class?" Korin asked. But Ben was acutely aware of the director's importance; he had seen the way people looked at them during their tours. He didn't want to draw any more attention to himself.
"No, I think it will be better for my social life not to be spotted with Director K on my first day," Ben said with an honest, laughing smile.
The day before, Korin had taken him to visit Captain Hadrian again. They had talked a lot during the drive, and Ben's apology for his past behavior had not gone unnoticed. As the director of an academy, Korin knew better than anyone how ego-driven and unapologetic kids Ben's age could be. Seeing the boy reflect on his actions and take responsibility had genuinely taken him by surprise.
But not even in his wildest dreams could Korin have predicted how the visit would go. First, he discovered that Hadrian had told Ben all of his most embarrassing stories from their youth. Then, Hadrian had revealed Korin's greatest weakness: that a mere flicker of feathers near his nose would make him lose hold of his power for at least five sneezes. His most guarded secret had been shared with a thirteen-year-old.
The most annoying part, however, was when Hadrian and Ben kept calling him "Old Man Korin", a nickname given to him by Ben's father, Theron, back in the day, all because he would always bail early on their post-mission drinking gatherings to get some rest. He despised that name. So what if he preferred sleep to alcohol? They were all the same age, and the moniker had haunted him his entire career.
On the ride back, Korin made Ben promise to never use the name again. They settled on "Director K", as Ben couldn't address him informally within the academy walls.
Ben took the piece of paper Korin had left him and read the content: *"class A1-temporary".* He knew about the Day One tests they had to endure. The classes were ranked from A to D, each with inner rankings of 1 or 2. He had been positioned at the top due to Korin's influence, but it wouldn't last long if he didn't prove himself capable and strong.
"Time to get going then..." he muttered to the empty room. The label "temporary" felt like a brand, a reminder that he hadn't earned his place yet. He crumpled the paper in his fist. Today, he would either secure his position or be cast down. The test wasn't just about power; it was about proving this was where he belonged.
Ben arrived at his designated classroom, A1-Temporary. Although he was early, the room was already buzzing. Dozens of students his age were scattered around, some clustered in lively conversations, others isolated with books or scrolling through phones. In one corner, a few were practicing with their essence; tiny flames danced between fingers, and gusts of wind ruffled hair. It was a snapshot of the new world he'd been thrust into.
His eyes were drawn to a group huddled around a single desk. They were talking loudly, a chorus of eager voices all vying for the attention of the boy sitting at the center, who wore an air of cool indifference like a mantle. A complex, coiling tattoo was visible on the back of the boy's hand, its dark lines stark against his skin.
Ben found a seat near the back, trying to blend into the scenery. It didn't work. A lanky, freckled boy from the group spotted him, his eyes lighting up with a malicious idea.
"Hey, Zane," the boy said, nudging the one with the tattoo. "See that new guy? Word is he's Director Korin's personal project. Didn't even have to take the entrance exam." He let out a low whistle. "Must be nice to have connections, huh?"
The boy's name was Jax, and he was the kind of person who built himself up by tearing others down. Zane glanced over at Ben with a flicker of disinterest. He was the one who had ranked first in the entrance exams, the very tests Ben had been exempted from. Hell, I didn't even know there was an exam, Ben thought.
"I don't care about weaklings, Jax," Zane said, his voice flat. "Let him prove himself in the tests like everyone else. Or not. It makes no difference to me."
But Jax wasn't ready to let it go. This was his chance to score points with Zane and assert his own dominance. "Yeah, but don't you think it's unfair? Some of us actually had to earn our spot here. Guess if your daddy's best friends with the Director, the rules don't apply."
Ben kept his eyes forward, arranging his supplies. He wasn't fazed. After facing down a hunchbacked madman and a near-death experience, the petty social maneuvering of teenagers felt like background noise. He wouldn't give Jax the reaction he was looking for.
Frustrated by Ben's indifference, Jax decided to escalate. He took a seat, leaned back in his chair until it balanced precariously on two legs, and propped his feet up on an empty desk. "Yeah, some people just have all the luck," he said loudly, directing a pointed cough in Ben's direction. "Must be a sweet deal."
Ben had had enough. Without any visible movement, he focused a sliver of his power. A thin, nearly invisible layer of ice crystallized on the floor directly beneath the two legs of Jax's chair.
The effect was instant. The chair legs shot out from under him. With a startled yelp, Jax crashed backward onto the floor, his legs flailing in the air. The entire classroom erupted in laughter.
Scrambling to his feet, his face flushed crimson, Jax pointed a shaking finger at Ben. "You! You did that! I saw your hand move!"
By the time all eyes turned to him, Ben had already let the ice melt away into nothingness. He looked up, his face a mask of pure, innocent confusion. "Did what? I'm just sitting here."
The classroom door swung open, cutting short any further argument. A woman with severe silver hair and a gaze that could pin you to your seat strode in. She took in the scene in a single glance: Jax, red-faced and pointing, and the rest of the class struggling to contain their laughter.
"Is there a problem?" she asked, her voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of steel.
"He tripped me with his essence!" Jax spluttered, still pointing at Ben.
The teacher's eyes narrowed. She didn't ask for proof. Instead, a nearly invisible thread of energy shot from her fingertip. It wrapped around Jax's ankle and yanked, sending him stumbling back into his chair with a hard thud.
"Sit. Down," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. "The next person to use their essence outside of a sanctioned test will find themselves in D-Class before the day is out." She leveled her gaze at Jax, who was rubbing his sore backside. "And Mr. Finn, four legs on the floor. This is an academy, not a playground."
With order restored, she turned to the class. "My name is Professor Keren Vance. Welcome to your first day at THOE Academy. In thirty minutes, your preliminary ranking trials will begin. These will be nothing like your entrance exams."
Jax, still seething, couldn't resist a final mutter. "Some of us had to take entrance exams…"
Professor Vance's head snapped toward him so fast a few students flinched. "Let me be perfectly clear," she said, her voice sharp as she gave a quick, meaningful look in Ben's direction. "Your past achievements, your connections, or who you think you are mean nothing from this moment forward. Here, you will be judged solely on your performance, your control, and your potential. The safety net is gone."
She began to pace, her presence commanding absolute attention. "The trials consist of three parts. The first two will determine your class ranking. The third will determine your standing within that class and your eligibility for specializations."
"Trial One: Essence Capacity and Projection," she announced. "Each of you will fill your core to its maximum capacity. You will then be required to unleash your single most powerful strike, channeling every drop of that essence into one focused attack. This trial measures your raw power and your ability to release it efficiently. Power without control is just noise."
"Trial Two: Essence Control and Adaptation," she continued. "Here, raw power will not save you. You will be presented with a complex puzzle or obstacle that can only be overcome with precise, delicate manipulation of your essence. It might be threading your power through a series of fragile, moving targets, or maintaining a stable shield under fluctuating pressures. This trial separates the brutes from the artists."
A holographic display flickered to life above her desk, illustrating the class structure. "Your combined scores from these two trials will place you in one of seven classes: A1, A2, B1, B2, C1, C2, or D. There are 140 of you. A and B classes have two sections each. C-Class is for rehabilitation and refocusing. D-Class…" She paused, letting the silence hang heavy in the room. "D-Class has one section. It is reserved for the twenty lowest-ranked students. And as is the academy's tradition, every single member of D-Class at the end of this year will be expelled. There are no exceptions."
The weight of her words settled over the room. The confident smiles and laughter from moments before vanished, replaced by a palpable, nervous tension that gripped most of the students; all except for a calm few.
"The third trial," Professor Vance continued, "is the Melee Gauntlet. This is only for those who have already secured a place in A or B-Class. The twenty students from each class will be placed in a simulated combat arena together. It is a free-for-all. The longer you remain standing, the higher you rank within your class. Your final standing determines your priority for the special classes that will shape your future careers."
The hologram shifted, listing the paths they all coveted: Hero Operations at the top, followed by Researchers, Alchemists, Medics, Tactical Analysts, Field Strategists, Combat Engineers, and more.
"Your rank determines your future," Professor Vance concluded, her eyes scanning the room and lingering for a moment on Ben, then on Zane, and finally on a still-fuming Jax. "Now, enough talk. It's time to see what you're made of. The first trial begins in twenty minutes. I suggest you prepare. Your journey to becoming heroes… or casualties… starts now."