Zazm stood among the line of students as the instructor paced before them.
"Last month," the instructor began, voice echoing against the training hall walls, "we covered the Gustwalkers and the Kraken Straps. Most of you have grown used to them by now."
The students muttered among themselves.
"More pain…" one groaned.
"Again with this nonsense…" another sighed.
Zazm, however, remained silent, hands buried in his pockets, gaze fixed forward with no hint of expression.
The instructor lifted his hands, revealing a pair of sleek, skin-tight gloves. "Today, you'll be introduced to your next piece of equipment: the Veritas Gloves."
A student in the back raised his hand. "Sir, those just look like ordinary gloves. They don't even look reinforced."
The instructor nodded. "That's exactly what many assume. They weigh almost nothing—" He slipped one glove on, pressed his palm against the wall, and instantly, his hand locked in place with a sharp thwip.
Gasps rippled through the line.
Without a word, the instructor donned the second glove, leapt lightly, and scaled the wall with ease, clinging as though gravity itself had lost its claim on him. Reaching the top, he crouched, looking down at their stunned faces.
"This," he called, "is their first use." He pushed off and landed gracefully, dusting his hands. "Wall-scaling, vertical traversal, stability in combat. A tool for hunters and for survival alike."
He raised a finger. "But their second use is far more important."
The students leaned in, whispering louder now.
Sliding his fingers outward, the gloves shimmered faintly with a dark-black thread of energy. The air rippled. With a flick, an elongated tether shot from his hand like a whip, lashing around a practice dummy across the room. The tether tightened, pulling the dummy into the air before it slammed against the ground with a metallic crash.
"Woah!" someone gasped.
The instructor's eyes hardened. He extended another whip, this time wrapping it around a different target, suspending it midair. Then, with a smooth motion, he hurled himself forward, the tether yanking his body across the room in a blur. He landed effortlessly, standing over the immobilized dummy.
"This," he said, his voice dropping lower, "is their true strength. These gloves grant you control of the battlefield. To bind your enemies. To disarm. To launch. To move." He held the glowing tether up for all to see before retracting it back into the glove. "Unlike a simple tool, the Veritas Gloves respond to willpower and precision. Fail to control them…" His eyes swept across the line. "…and you'll end up tangled yourself."
The hall was silent—save for the nervous swallowing of a few students.
Only Zazm stood there, his expression unreadable, as though this new challenge was nothing more than another passing detail.
The instructor's voice dropped low, drawing everyone in.
"But that—" he paused deliberately, letting the silence hang, "—is not their most important use."
Murmurs rippled across the line. A few students leaned forward, some shifting uneasily. Zazm only tilted his head, eyes sharp, hands still stuffed in his pockets.
The instructor flexed his fingers and the black whip that had unfurled from the glove shimmered, hardening into a shining, obsidian-like strand. Unlike before, this one carried a weight in the air—ominous, restrained power that made the students go quiet.
"There is only one of these," the instructor said, his tone grave. "And once you use it, the gloves themselves become useless."
Gasps broke out. Someone whispered, "A one-time weapon?" Another muttered, "That's insane… why even waste it?"
Ignoring them, the instructor snapped the whip outward, making it crack with a sound like splitting stone. "This whip has a singular purpose. Wrap it around a Remnant's limb…" He flicked his wrist, and the whip wrapped around a training dummy's arm with terrifying speed. The limb stiffened, sparks crawling across the dummy's frame.
"…and their power transfer to that limb is cut off instantly."
Students jolted. Some whispered in disbelief.
The instructor continued, his voice steady but sharp. "Bind both arms, and they will never channel an ability through them again. Bind the head, the neck, even across the forehead—" He let the whip slide up the dummy's torso and snap around its neck with a resounding clack. The dummy's glow fizzled out completely.
"—and you silence them. Entirely. No power. No tricks. Nothing."
The silence was heavy now, broken only by one student muttering under their breath, "…so it's like an execution rope…"
The instructor let that thought hang before driving the final nail:
"Once locked, the whip will not come off by itself. Not time, not resistance. The only way to remove it is through overwhelming force—or through the gloves of person that released it."
A collective shiver ran through the students. Some looked terrified, some thrilled, some skeptical. One nervously raised a hand, half-joking, "Uh… so, sir… what if it wraps around one of us by mistake and the one who wrapped loses their gloves or dies?"
The instructor smirked without humor. "Then pray you have very strong friends."
A ripple of uneasy laughter spread, though no one missed the chill beneath his words.
Zazm, meanwhile, only raised a brow, expression unreadable—but his gaze lingered on the whip longer than anyone else's.
The instructor lowered the Veritas Gloves, letting the whip vanish back into the sleek material. He gave the students a moment to breathe before holding up his other arm.
"And this—" he said, his tone shifting, "—is the second piece of gear you will be introduced to."
A shimmer spread across his forearm, and suddenly, a curved shield of translucent light-purple energy blossomed outward like liquid glass, catching the sunlight in a faint glow. Students gasped, some instinctively leaning back as if it radiated heat.
"This," the instructor declared, "is called the Aurel Guard. 'Aurel,' derived from aurelia—a shield jellyfish—fluid, elegant, impenetrable. But unlike the golden prototypes you may have read about… this one refracts violet. Its color isn't just aesthetic. It reflects stability. The most stable defense system we have built."
He tapped the shield with his fist. It rang with a resonant clang, like striking steel.
"Functions are simple. By default, it deploys a curved forearm shield, enough to block gunfire, claws, even small-scale energy bursts. It can even tank attacks from an average 1-star threat remnant."
The shield pulsed as he willed it larger. With a single motion, it expanded into a dome of shimmering violet light, enveloping him entirely like an otherworldly bubble.
"But under greater threat, it expands into a full-body dome to protect the wielder and anyone nearby. It reacts to danger faster than thought."
The dome collapsed back into his arm, reforming into the sleek bracer-like generator. The instructor raised two fingers, his voice now serious.
"It also contains nanoparticles that can shift into emergency medical support. Blood-clot seals to stop heavy bleeding. Pressure supports for broken limbs. Even minor skin patching."
"But remember using nanoparticles for medical would make the shield lose its shape and size."
A murmur swept through the line—equal parts awe and disbelief.
He let the silence drag before speaking again, softer, heavier.
The instructor clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention back after the weight of the Aurel Guard demonstration.
"There are just two more components you need to understand," he said.
He held up a small neck band with a polished crystal gem hanging at its center. Its faint glow pulsed softly, like a heartbeat.
"This is called echo lock."
A ripple of chuckles spread through the students.
One boy smirked, "Uh… are we being put on dog collars now?"
Another added under his breath, "Looks more like the inventor had… questionable hobbies."
The line of students burst into muffled laughter, some covering their mouths.
The instructor's face remained perfectly stern. He waited until the sound died down, then said flatly:
"You laugh now, but this—" he held the crystal up, and the faint glow pulsed brighter "—is the most important part of your entire combat system."
Silence fell like a hammer.
"This gem is not decoration. It is the core power unit. Without it, the Kraken Straps cannot function, the Gust Walkers cannot propel you, the Veritas Gloves cannot generate whips, and the Aurel Guard cannot project shields. Every piece of gear you've seen… all of it is fueled by this one energy crystal."
A collective gasp ran through the crowd. The laughter was gone, replaced with wide eyes and slack jaws.
The instructor allowed the weight of his words to settle before stepping aside.
"Let me show you what happens when everything is properly connected."
The heavy double doors at the edge of the training ground hissed open. A figure stepped forward—slow, deliberate, echoing like the arrival of a legend.
The man was clad in the full combat outfit.
It was matte black from head to toe, broken only by sleek blue energy lines running across the body like living veins of light. They pulsed rhythmically, converging at the crystal embedded at the base of his neck, locked into a specially-designed collar port.
The suit wasn't bulky. It was lean, flexible, clearly designed for movement—but not tight enough to feel exposed. It had the utilitarian elegance of a soldier's second skin.
Blue streams of light flowed outward from the gem like rivers: down the chest, along the arms into the gloves, through the legs into the Kraken Straps and Gust Walkers, and even branching subtly toward the forearms where the Aurel Guard could deploy.
The crystal no longer looked like a dog collar—it looked like the heart of the suit.
Students whispered under their breath:
"Holy crap…"
"That's… actually insane."
"I take back what I said, this looks sick."
The instructor gestured toward the glowing lines.
"You see these?" he said. "These energy conduits show you the status of your gear. If they're flowing bright and steady, everything is connected. Your weapons, your armor, your supports—they are one system, synchronized with you. If even a single line flickers, that means something has failed. And in combat, one failure can kill you."
The suited man tapped his leg, activating the Gust Walkers; the boots hissed with compressed force. He flexed his hand, and the Veritas Gloves shimmered faintly, ready. Then he raised his arm, and a violet shield bloomed into existence, wrapping half his body in protective light.
The suit came alive before the students' eyes.
For a moment, nobody spoke. The aura of it was overwhelming. The humor from earlier had long died. Even the cockiest among them stood frozen in awe.
The instructor's voice was calm, steady, yet commanding:
"This is the Unified Combat Gear System. Individually, the tools are strong. Together, they make you a soldier. A shield, a weapon, and a lifeline—powered by nothing more than the crystal at your throat and the will to wield it."
One girl raised her hand, frowning.
"Instructor… you never told us what those things over his ears are."
The instructor smirked, clearly waiting for this question.
"Ah. I must've forgotten."
He gestured casually, and the man standing before them tilted his head up. In that instant, a dark-blue holographic visor flickered into existence across his eyes—its surface shifting with streams of unreadable symbols, pulses of light moving like veins through glass.
"These," the instructor said, his tone sharp, almost proud, "are called Hollos. Devices worn behind the ear, fused into the nervous system. Their primary function is to read a Remnant's power level—their aura, resonance, and potential. But that's only the beginning."
He snapped his fingers, and the hologram sharpened, lines of data scattering across it in three dimensions like constellations.
"Hollos also analyze injuries and internal stress points—if a soldier takes a hit, the Hollos detect tissue damage before the pain even registers. They can trigger automatic adrenaline regulation, administer nanomedical support, or broadcast the vitals directly to a squad's medic."
He let the information sink in before continuing, voice dropping like a secret:
"They come with tactical overlays: night vision, thermal imaging, trajectory prediction. A Remnant with Hollos sees more than the battlefield—they see the future of every clash, before the first strike lands."
The soldier pressed two fingers against the small obsidian plate tucked just behind his ear. Instantly, a thin, floating panel of blue light unfolded beside him, as if reality had bent into a screen. It shimmered like a translucent earpiece—that looked like a spiritual artifact. When he released his touch, the panel folded back into nothingness.
"Communication," the instructor finished. "Linked directly into your nervous system. No wires. No lag. Thought to thought, soldier to soldier. If a squad wears Hollos, they move as one. A hive mind of war."
The visor dissolved, leaving only a faint blue glimmer in the soldier's eyes.
The instructor smirked again.
"Of course… that's just the standard model."
The heavy wooden doors of the academy groaned as the instructor pushed them open. Students followed in a line, their chatter dying down as the air changed. Gone were the musty old halls of oak and parchment, with candle sconces and chalkboards that gave the academy its traditional magical aura.
The staircase spiraled downward. The instructor's boots echoed like a drumbeat as he led them into the underground floor. The air shifted—cooler, humming faintly. By the time they stepped off the final stair, jaws were hanging open.
The underground floor was nothing like the rest of the academy. It was a cathedral of technology: steel walls alive with flowing lines of blue and violet light, vast panels glowing with data, and a smooth obsidian floor that rippled faintly like liquid glass. Training fields stretched out in massive squares, separated by glowing barriers. Above, panels shifted, projecting holographic skies and storm clouds when needed.
One boy muttered, "This… this isn't an academy basement. This is a war lab."
Another whispered, "Feels like we stepped into the future."
The instructor clasped his hands behind his back, smirking at their awe.
"Get used to it. Wooden desks teach you theory. This floor teaches you survival."
At his gesture, the armored man they had seen earlier walked past the students and into the center of the training arena. The blue lines on his combat suit pulsed like a heartbeat.
A panel shimmered, and a dummy materialized—but unlike the lifeless mannequins the students were used to, this one breathed. Its eyes glowed red, chest expanding like lungs, flame flickering in its maw.
"Third-Star threat level," the instructor explained calmly, his voice cutting through the silence. "The kind of Remnant you'd die against in seconds—without gear."
The students stiffened. Some instinctively stepped back.
The soldier flexed his wrist. An angular hilt slid out from his forearm bracer. With a sound like steel striking thunder, a blade of pure energy unspooled from it—a longsword, edges shimmering with violet light.
Gasps erupted.
"It's—an energy sword."
"Look—it's forming out of the crystal power lines!"
The dummy blurred and reappeared behind him, exhaling a torrent of flame.
The students screamed—
But the soldier swung his forearm up. The Aurel Guard bloomed to life: a curved violet shield forming instantly, absorbing the blast. Flames licked harmlessly against its shimmering surface.
"First function," the instructor said, nodding approvingly. "Personal shielding. If Aurel breaks, you were never meant to survive that hit."
The soldier crouched, activating his Kraken Straps. A hiss of energy pulsed, and he rocketed into the air, rising higher than any natural leap. He swung downward, blade poised to cleave the dummy in two—
—but the creature raised a claw, releasing another burst of fire.
The soldier twisted in midair, then—before he could fall—his body jolted again, propelled by invisible bursts.
The students' eyes widened.
"He… he just jumped in the air!"
"No—he's propelling himself off the wind!"
"Gustwalkers…" one girl whispered, finally understanding.
The soldier extended his arm midair. From his Veritas gloves, black whips of energy lashed out like living shadows.
They wrapped around the dummy's wrists, snapping taut with sparks. The soldier yanked, locking the creature's arms in place, then drove both boots into its stomach with bone-shaking force. The dummy flew backward, crashing across the arena.
But it rose again, screeching, spewing another firestorm.
The soldier landed hard, shield flashing to life a second time, tanking the inferno head-on. Sparks rained across the floor as his boots dug trenches into the steel.
The instructor's voice cut in, calm and measured:
"Second function: durability. You're not dodging every strike. Sometimes, you endure."
The dummy lunged forward again. The soldier vaulted high, using Gustwalkers in rapid bursts, ricocheting like a phantom through the air. He swung his sword—but paused, as if calculating.
Then, with precision, he drew on the Veritas gloves' final function.
A whip uncoiled again—but this time, its color deepened. The shining black whip. It writhed like liquid obsidian, wrapping tight around the dummy's throat. Instantly, the fire sputtered, dying in its jaws. The dummy thrashed violently, but the whip clung like a parasite.
"Third function," the instructor said, voice hard. "Power suppression. With this, a Remnant is stripped of everything that makes it dangerous."
The soldier descended in one smooth motion. His blade ignited brighter, humming with lethal resonance. With a final, precise stroke—he severed the dummy's head.
The holographic creature flickered, froze, then collapsed into shards of light. Silence echoed across the arena.
Then the students erupted.
"No way—!"
"He took down a Third-Star solo?!"
"That's insane!"
"Those… those suits make us unstoppable!"
The instructor held up a hand, and the noise died immediately. His gaze swept over them like a hawk.
"Do not mistake what you saw. The gear does not make you invincible. It only gives you the tools. If you hesitate, if you falter, you'll still die. What he showed you was the result of training, not just equipment."
The man in the suit stepped back, visor fading, shield folding into his bracer. The glowing lines across his body dimmed, leaving only faint pulses at the crystal near his neck. He looked unscathed, almost casual—as if he hadn't just fought fire itself.
The students swallowed hard, awe etched on every face.
---
Zazm finally reached back to his dorm, the door sliding shut with a low hiss behind him. He let himself fall onto the bed, leaning back against the wall as though the weight of the entire day had just settled on his shoulders.
A moment later, Zephyra plopped down beside him, her hair still slightly messy from the chaos earlier. She leaned into him with a tired sigh, eyes half-lidded.
"That was way too much for one day," she muttered, her tone somewhere between exhaustion and disbelief.
Zazm tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the ceiling for a beat.
"Way too much," he echoed, his voice same flat and cold.
For a second, neither of them spoke, the silence filled only with the faint hum of the dorm's ventilation. Both of them were really tired.
____________________________
[Extras]
Jennie leaned forward in her seat, her eyes sparkling with interest as the instructor showed the gadgets again. "Wow… they're really thoughtful, aren't they? To think they even made them with medical features… it feels like they care about the soldiers a lot." Her tone was soft, warm, and genuine—she always tried to see the best in things.
Lisa, leaning back with her arms crossed, smirked. "Care, huh? Or maybe they just don't want their precious weapons breaking before they're used. Let's not pretend this is charity." Her voice was sharp but playful, dripping with sarcasm. "Still… I won't lie. Those holo things look sick. Blue lenses, instant scans… feels like something out of a sci-fi movie."
Nirin, tapping her chin with a finger, tilted her head slightly. "I mean… she's not completely wrong, Jennie. Tools like that usually come with hidden purposes. Power levels, constant monitoring… I bet they're tracking every move soldiers make." Her tone was calm, a little cautious, and analytical.
Jennie smiled, turning to them both. "Well… maybe it's a mix of both? Even if they are tracking, it still helps keep people alive, right?" She tried to bridge their views, her optimism naturally softening the edges of the conversation.
Lisa rolled her eyes but smirked. "You'd defend a knife if it was smiling at you, Jennie." She leaned closer, teasing. "Seriously, you're way too kind… it's like a superpower."
Jennie's cheeks flushed slightly, embarrassed but still smiling. "I-I don't know about that…"
Nirin gave a small sigh but with a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Well, either way, it's impressive tech. Just… let's not forget it probably comes with a price."
Lisa smirked again, shrugging. "Yeah, like selling your soul for a pair of fancy earrings."
Jennie laughed softly at their banter. "I think they're amazing… even if they're a little scary."