The wind sliced through the academy courtyard like a blade, sharp and unforgiving. Tori Reglard walked with purpose, his wheat-blonde hair catching the morning light. Beside him, Sunless moved like a shadow, silent but alert. Beatrice followed lazily behind, her tail flicking with casual disinterest.
Issac Reevire stood ahead, arms crossed, waiting with Mica and Sylph—the silver-haired girl with eyes like blank moons. She didn't speak much, but when she did, it was always worth listening to. The crew was complete. They'd trained, and now they were ready to face the Royal Academy of Aspin.
The arena loomed before them: an abandoned four-story building, each floor a different kind of ruin. The third floor was a maze—twisted, broken, and perfect for ambushes. Tori's golden eyes scanned the structure, noting the cameras tucked into corners.
"This is being broadcasted," he muttered.
A voice crackled through the intercoms.
"Hello, Students! Welcome to the War Game!"
The announcer's tone was too cheerful.
"You will play the role of the offender. You have 30 minutes to steal the flag from the defenders—the Royal Team."
Issac grinned, his eyes narrowing. "Let's make this quick," he said confidently.
"On my signal…"
"Begin!"
They bolted forward.
Except for Beatrice, as she was already taking a power snooze.
"Beatrice, what the heck!" Sunless barked, halting as she curled up mid-run for a nap. He sighed, scooped her up, and sprinted after the others.
The second floor greeted them with a smug face.
A boy with slicked-back grey hair and blue eyes stood in the center of the hallway, grinning like he'd already won. Toris was irritated by the guy's face; it annoyed him.
"I'll wipe that grin off your face," he growled, lunging—only to be yanked back by Issac.
"Wait. Look at this idiot, He's not moving." Tori and Issac had thought he looked like an illusion or a statue standing there—weirdly.
Then the fog came.
Thick, choking mist poured from the ceiling, swallowing the room whole.
"Damn it, Tori!" Issac snapped, trying to find someone to blame, per usual.
"How is this my fault?" Tori replied, half-laughing.
"Okay, maybe I was joking."
"Guys! Not the time!" Mica shouted, her voice tense.
They huddled back-to-back, watching all angles. But it wasn't enough.
A punch—silent and invisible—slammed into Issac's face. Then another. And another. The trio staggered, assaulted by unseen fists.
Issac roared, unleashing a wave of atmospheric pressure that shattered the windows and cleared the fog. But something was wrong, as he felt a sharp pain throughout his body.
His hands trembled.
His authority had deactivated unwillingly; he tried to activate it again, but nothing happened, like it no longer belonged to him.
"I can't use my Authority," he whispered, eyes wide.
Mica's voice cut through the silence, "What do you mean?"
Sylph had given the group some advice before they came to the war game. The prince never reveals his Authority. But every war game ends the same—once the enemy activates their powers, they lose."
"It means Sylph's advice may have proven more useful than we thought. No one activates their authority unless I tell you." Issac declared
Tori activated his Eye of Constellation, a shimmering glow flickering in his irises. It wasn't truly passive—he had to will it to life, but once it was activated, it stayed passive until he deactivated it. Mana signatures lit up around him, each one a different color.
"There," he said, dashing forward.
He crashed through a wall, catching the real grey-haired boy off guard.
CRACK. A noise that rang through the silence of the abandoned room.
The kick sent him flying through two rooms. However above, a loud crash echoed.
Mica darted for the stairs. Issac turned—only to be ambushed. Tori glanced back and laughed.
"Man, you're helpless without your Authority!" Tori said, wiping the tears from under his radiating golden eyes.
"Just shut up and help!" Issac shouted, kicking one attacker in the ankle. The boy screamed, grabbing his ankle, mist erupting around him again.
But Tori could still see them his eye of constellation allowed him to see mana signatures and distinguish enemies from allies by the different colors of the signature.
He punched the mist-user out the window, then lunged at a purple signature. The enemy blocked and countered, landing a punch to Tori's nose. Blood trickled down.
Tori slid low, sweeping the attacker's legs. The boy caught himself mid-fall by slamming his hands down onto the ground in a handstand and kicked Tori twice in the ribs.
"Urgh…" Tori exclaimed he was about to punch the boy with all his might but,
Issac grabbed a brick and slammed it into the boy's head. The mist dispersed out of the window slowly.
"Damn weaklings," Issac muttered, kicking the unconscious body.
"Funny, coming from the guy who was helpless against them," Tori said, laughing as he wiped his nose.
Issac stomped off, humiliated.
They ascended to the third floor.
the System putting a pop up window in front of the two boys.
[The Primordial Observer Purdue Labyrinth Conqueror is bored and wants more action!]
Tori smirked. "Shut up and watch."
The two ascended the staircase for the maze that awaits.