Morning broke like a blade through silk.
A silver projection bloomed above Min Academy's central courtyard, and the air itself trembled with woven resonance. Every first-year stopped in place as Headmaster Ryuzen Lian's voice rolled across the campus.
> "First-year Weavers.
The Grand Formation Tournament begins now.
Each team shall consist of ten members.
No more than two from the Top Twenty.
Those without a team by sundown… will be expelled."
The message ended; silence shattered.
Then the courtyard exploded into sound.
Students screamed names, threads flared like fireworks, and alliances snapped into place only to fall apart seconds later. The whole school became a single chaotic loom.
On a balcony above it all, Kaito Fei watched with the faintest hint of a smirk.
Beside him, Liora Vex leaned on the railing, frost gathering along her fingertips. "Ten members. He wants to see how we handle chaos."
"He wants to see who breaks," Kaito murmured. "I'll show him who bends the world instead."
"Then we'd better start before everyone else does."
---
The halls became markets of desperation. Kaito walked through them like a shadow slicing through noise — eyes steady, hands in his pockets, unbothered by the panic spinning around him.
He stopped only when a burst of light threads caught his attention.
In the Illusion Hall, a girl was weaving mirrored birds into the air — delicate, flawless, fading into nothing.
"You lose cohesion after seven seconds," Kaito said quietly.
She turned, startled. "Excuse me?"
"Your refraction pattern." He stepped closer, studying the fading birds. "It collapses because you rely on color, not angle. Try inversion."
The next illusion she cast held for fifteen.
Her surprise turned into a grin. "Not bad for someone who just insulted me."
"I wasn't insulting," Kaito said. "I'm recruiting."
Liora appeared in the doorway, arms folded. "He does that a lot."
The girl hesitated, then nodded. "Ryn Altair. Mirage Thread. You've got yourself a weaver."
---
By midday the academy looked like a battlefield of arguments. Teams formed, signatures burned into contract scrolls, professors shouted reminders of the time limit.
Kaito and Liora moved through it all as if they had hours to spare.
Near the training yard, sparks clashed with steel. A boy fought three opponents at once, his metallic threads shifting shape with every blow — blade to shield to gauntlet again. When the others finally collapsed, he looked up to find Kaito watching.
"You should fix your timing," Kaito said.
The boy frowned. "You mean my stance?"
"I mean your rhythm. You block before the strike lands. That wastes three milliseconds."
The boy blinked. "And you'd know that how?"
"I measure."
A pause, then laughter. "You're insane."
"Efficient," Kaito corrected. "You're joining me."
The boy wiped sweat from his brow. "Taro Min. And sure — why not? Following you looks safer than fighting you."
---
Later, they crossed the fountain courtyard, where water threads spiraled through the air like ribbons. A student sat at the center, guiding the currents with the precision of a surgeon. When Kaito spoke, the water fell still.
"You focus on beauty, not structure," he said.
The student frowned. "And you focus on what, exactly?"
"Control. Join me, and you'll learn it."
The water rose again — this time into a flawless sphere. The student's lips twitched into a smile. "Ael Rion. You've got a deal."
---
Every encounter felt like coincidence, yet none of them were.
Kaito drifted through the academy as if probability itself opened doors for him.
In the dueling yard, a flare of fire cut through the afternoon haze. A girl surrounded by flames shouted her victory at two fallen challengers. When Kaito approached, her heat bent away from him like smoke refusing to touch.
"You fight with emotion," he said.
"Got a problem with that?" she snapped.
"No," he said. "I have use for it."
Her grin sharpened. "Careful, Fei. You'll get burned."
"I don't burn," he replied simply.
The flames dimmed. "Kira Solen. I'll join you."
---
By the time the sun began to lower, panic had turned to exhaustion. Most students had found teams — the rest waited for the inevitable expulsion bell.
On the academy rooftop, wind currents swirled around a lean boy who balanced on the edge, arms spread like wings. When Kaito landed behind him, he didn't turn.
"I was wondering when you'd show," he said. "Everyone else tried to bribe me with titles."
"I don't offer bribes," Kaito said. "Just purpose."
"That sounds heavy."
"It is."
The wind settled into stillness. The boy smiled over his shoulder. "Noel Crest. Alright, Captain Purpose."
---
The Sound Hall was next — a dome pulsing with vibration barriers. Inside, a quiet girl adjusted the pitch of her resonance until the air itself shimmered.
Kaito tapped the barrier once; it didn't move. "Good integrity."
She took off her headphones. "Good taste."
"Join me."
She tilted her head, considering. "Do I get a reason?"
He looked her in the eye. "Because I asked."
Silence. Then a soft laugh. "Fine. Lyn Rave. You're impossible to say no to."
---
In the reflection chamber, a girl surrounded herself with shards of glass light, each mirror showing a different version of the room. Kaito stepped into the maze and spoke once — his voice echoing from every direction.
"You calculate every angle before you move."
"That's how you survive," she answered.
"That's how you hesitate," he said, emerging beside her. "Let me worry about the angles. You just shoot."
Her expression softened. "Rhea Vorn. Consider me convinced."
---
The last came as the sun bled across the horizon.
Kaito found a boy in the lower training pits reinforcing the arena floor, Stone Threads crawling through his hands like veins of light.
"You don't fight," Kaito said. "You hold the ground."
Someone had to, the boy replied. "Otherwise the rest fall."
Kaito nodded once. "Then you'll hold mine."
The boy smiled. "Dio Fen. I can do that."
---
By dusk, the campus quieted. The announcement crystals began reading off registered teams; names faded into static. The air smelled of thread-burn and nerves.
Liora and Kaito stood in the center of the courtyard as the final glyph sealed their roster. Around them, their new teammates waited — some talking, some silent, all connected by a single thread humming between them.
The headmaster's image flickered once more above the towers.
> "All formations complete.
The Grand Formation Tournament commences at dawn.
Rest well, young Weavers — your futures hang by the threads you've chosen."
The light faded, leaving the courtyard bathed in red dusk.
---
Night settled.
In the dorm common room, the new team gathered, half curious, half nervous.
Kaito sat by the window, silent, the city lights reflecting in his eyes like distant constellations.
Kira leaned against the wall. "You barely know us, Fei. Yet you act like you already won."
He looked at her, expression unreadable. "I don't act."
Ryn laughed quietly. "That's even scarier."
Liora stepped closer, the faint chill of her frost threads brushing his shoulder. "So what's the plan, Captain?"
Kaito didn't answer right away. Outside, thunder rolled over the horizon — the storm that would mark tomorrow's first match.
Finally, he said, "Tonight we rest. Tomorrow we begin rewriting the odds."
Ael smirked. "Rewriting, huh?"
"Probability," Kaito murmured. "It's the most obedient weapon there is."
He stood, the Night Thread flickering faintly around his fingers — a web of invisible power stretching toward every member in the room. It connected them, pulsing once like a heartbeat.
No speeches. No cheers. Just quiet conviction.
Liora smiled. "Then let's win."
---
Outside, the wind carried the murmur of hundreds of other teams preparing for dawn.
But in that small room, ten threads resonated as one — sharp, new, unbreakable.
The academy didn't know it yet,
but the moment Kaito Fei began weaving his team,
the entire tournament had already tilted in his favor.