The main hall of the Aeterna Academy was a cathedral dedicated to the war. Under twenty-meter high vaults, banners in the colors of the city - midnight blue and silver - hung motionless. Giant touch screens, displaying real-time data, covered the stone walls. This morning, all the new students, nearly three hundred souls, were gathered there, united by a mixture of apprehension and excitement.
On a sober stage stood the director of the academy, a man named Kaelen. A former commander of the Army of Protectors, his career was written on his body: a scar scarred his austere face, and his right arm was an etheric prosthetic with silent joints. His eyes, as hard as steel, scanned the audience, imposing silence without having to raise their voices.
"Welcome to the Aeterna Academy," he began, his hoarse voice perfectly bearing. "I'm not going to welcome you, because you're not here as guests. You are here in resources. Humanity's last resource."
He let his words hover, heavy.
"Some of you come from large families. Others, working-class neighborhoods. Still others, orphanages. "His gaze touched Hakime, so quickly that it could have been an illusion." Here, these distinctions have no value. Here, there is only one measure: performance."
A thrill ran through the audience.
"The academy is not about protecting you. His goal is to forge the elite that will protect the millions of people sleeping behind the walls of Nova Aeterna. To do this, we need to identify the best ones. The strongest. The smartest ones. The most resilient."
He made a move, and the giant screens came alive, displaying an empty leaderboard, with columns for names, levels, and points.
"Here's the Performance Ranking. Starting today, you all start at zero points."
He explained the system, with each word falling like a hammer on an anvil.
"For the first three months, you will undergo intensive training. At the end of this period, you will participate in your first supervised expedition to a low-level monster zone. Your performance on this 24-hour expedition will be evaluated: defeated monsters, tactical efficiency, leadership, survival ability. On this basis, an initial ranking will be established."
Whispers rose. A real expedition. After only three months.
Then, every month, you will have the opportunity to participate in a new expedition to earn points. But that's not the only way." Kaelen smiled without warmth. "The academy encourages healthy competition. A student can challenge another student three times a month in an arena duel. The winner gains points, the loser loses points. You can only turn down a challenge if you've already been challenged three times a month."
He paused, letting the seriousness of the rules print.
"At the end of the academic year, the top ten will receive an award. A substantial monetary premium. And above all... "He took another dramatic break." a personalized etheric equipment, tailor-made by the best craftsmen in the city."
This time, the whispers were tinged with lust. Custom equipment was not just a weapon; it was a power multiplier, a decisive advantage for survival and progression.
"But make no mistake about it," Kaelen thundered, regaining her severity. "These rewards are not a goal. They are a tool. A tool to become stronger. Stronger to protect. Stronger to win back. The outside world won't give you a second chance. Tower monsters won't challenge you to a duel according to rules. Here we harden you for the only reality that matters: victory, or death."
His gaze again swept the crowd, lingering on the most determined faces, on those who were already arrogant, on those who were trying to hide their fear.
"Your training starts now. The instructors are waiting for you in the training rooms. The time for speeches is over. That of steel and ether begins."
With these words, he left the stage, leaving behind a meaningful silence, soon replaced by the excited and anxious hum of the students.
Hakime was looking at the giant screen, the ranking blank. It was a clean slate. An opportunity. He felt Loïd's gaze on him, burning with defiance. He felt Conor's calm presence by his side and Arthur's nervous energy.
The path was mapped out. She was difficult, ruthless, but she was fair. She didn't ask for a name, only for deeds.
"Then, the number one future," whispered Arthur in his ear, a little pale. "Are you sure you want to do that?"
Hakime clenched his fists, feeling the light as he answered with a quiver of anticipation.
"More than ever," he answered.
The race had just begun.