(0 hours 30 minutes until Apex Trials)

  KRRZZT—KKHHHHH—

  The Prime Ring microphone crackled to life, echoing across the dome.

  “Cadets of Prime Gate… welcome to the APEX TRIALS.”

  The sound rippled outward like a shockwave—

  The dome quivered with the force of it—like the arena itself had shivered awake.

  —and across the ocean, that same voice slammed through a quiet viewing hall.

  ?

  Every cadet in Coral Gate had fallen asleep curled into chairs, wrapped in blankets and pillows like a flock of hibernating birds.

  KRRZZT—KKHHHH—blasted through the speakers.

  Blankets flew.

  Pillows launched.

  A dozen bodies jerked upright at once.

  “What—who—why is the world yelling?!”

  “My spine! My spine!”

  “WHO STOLE MY BLANKET?!”

  “It’s on your head!”

  The projection screen blinked on, drowning everyone in bright blue light.

  They squinted toward it, still half-asleep, disheveled, panicked… but awake.

  ?

  There was no chaos here.

  The moment the broadcast activated, hundreds of cadets simply turned their heads in silent unison.

  Disciplined.

  Orderly.

  Focused.

  A low murmur—barely a ripple—passed between two Neophytes.

  “That’s bigger than anything I have ever seen…”

  Their Lieutenant's voice cut through the quiet.

  “Use these fights as lessons. Observe. Create your own strategy for the battle. Every frame teaches something.”

  The room obeyed instantly.

  All eyes locked onto the feed.

  ?

  President Katsuro Onmyoji leaned forward so far he looked moments from tumbling over the railing.

  His eyes gleamed with barely contained excitement. “…This should be exciting.”

  Captain Flux scratched his head as he stared at Katsuro. “Sir, I’m… very grateful the cadets can’t see you like this.”

  Katsuro didn’t blink. “Why shouldn’t I be excited? They don’t let me join missions anymore. This is all I have.”

  Flux stood as he exhaled. “Because you’re the president, sir. You can’t—”

  “Silence,” Katsuro said, waving him off mid-sentence. “It’s starting. Sit down and be quiet and leave me be.”

  Flux sat.

  But when he glanced again at the President — practically vibrating with anticipation — he let a quiet smirk break through.

  …He would never admit it, but he was excited too.

  ?

  The announcer’s voice rolled across Prime Ring again, steady and resonant.

  “And now… the eight teams of Prime.”

  A low hum swelled through the arena as the camera drones shifted position, red lenses refocusing. One by one, the teams came into view — not as static portraits, but living snapshots, each posture telling its own story.

  “TEAM EDGE!”

  Valor held the front — distant, arrogant, chin lifted as if the arena itself owed him acknowledgment.

  Mirage beside him was the exact opposite: calm, stern, posture clean as a blade freshly drawn.

  Sync looked annoyed already, brows twitching with every passing second he had to stand still.

  Behind them, Captain Edge carried the weight of an old samurai poem — expression flat, not angry, not pleased, simply a man who’d long outgrown theatrics.

  “TEAM NULL!”

  Captain Null looked entirely unamused as he led his cadets out of the tunnel. His stare flat and cold as if the whole event bored him.

  Gale rolled her shoulders, impatience leaking through the motion.

  Ditto’s smile wavered at the corners, polite but nervous.

  Selena held herself steady — the weight in her chest hidden behind careful stillness.

  “TEAM IRONCLAD!”

  Rex walked head low, one fist scraping the ground, eyes dark beneath a heavy brow.

  Brin walked beside him, hands planted to the side, eyes straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge anything.

  Lockjaw walked behind them all, face wrapped in cloth, eyes on her Captain as if he was going to give an order.

  And in front of them stood Captain Ironclad — not merely cold, but carved from pure, controlled fury. His stare alone felt like a punishment.

  “TEAM SNAPBACK!”

  Snapback stood behind his cadets with hands laced behind his neck, leaning back with the widest grin in the facility.

  Sunstrike crossed her arms, jaw locked between irritation and determination.

  Arcline had a bounce in his walk. His grin almost larger than Snapback’s as if they were competing.

  Halo stood quiet, rubbing her opposite arm, a faint smile trying to overpower her nerves.

  “TEAM PULSE!”

  Blueprint barely looked up, thumbs swiping rapidly across his tablet.

  Speedy struck a theatrical pose — left arm crossed, right elbow propped on it, hand rubbing his chin as he attempted his “handsome face” look.

  Perma stared at the ground with her arms loose at her sides, shaking out her hands like she needed to drain the adrenaline before it leaked out.

  Behind them Hiroshi followed with his usual soft grin, as both hands stayed propped on his cane in front of him.

  “TEAM VITALIS!”

  Captain Vitalis’ doctor’s coat caught the air, flaring behind her as she positioned beside her cadets.

  Grid squatted with his elbows on his knees, visibly annoyed, a sucker stick poked lazily from his lips.

  Thorn hovered at his side, arms loosely crossed, smile large and vibrant.

  Silverline stood elegantly next to Thorn. Flicking her hair back with effortless confidence.

  “TEAM SERAPH!”

  Captain Seraph took center position, the open-roof light finding her as if by design.

  Replica smiled brightly, as her and Arcline locked eyes.

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  K slammed her fist into her palm with a sharp smirk.

  Cascade stood as if none of it mattered, posture relaxed but unmistakably strong.

  Different motions… yet every rise and fall of their breathing matched like choreography.

  “TEAM TITAN!”

  Titan walked with arms crossed, face solid as a general etched into history.

  Ayasha held herself steady with confident calm.

  Cael mirrored that strength, though the tension at the edge of his eyes betrayed the truth.

  Centered between those two stood Lior. Hands at his sides, chest slightly forward, head tilted as if listening to something only he could hear. Plain expression, but behind it… thoughts running, circling, sharpening.

  The announcer’s voice shot out with pride.

  “PRIME… ASSEMBLED!”

  ?

  The announcer lifted one hand toward the massive screen descending over Prime Ring.

  “Cadets of Prime… your bracket has been decided.”

  A pulse of white light rippled across the display.

  The first matchup appeared in bold lettering:

  A few gasps broke through the rows.

  Replica’s eyes lit up with sharp excitement.

  Cascade remained loose, unmoved by the announcement..

  K cracked her knuckles once.

  Gale’s hand stalled halfway to her hair. “…What? Against them? First?”

  Ditto inhaled sharply, already pale.

  Selena’s body relaxed after hearing her team's opponent.

  Thank goodness. I don’t have to face him.

  Null didn’t react. No shift in posture — only a measured breath through his nose.

  The screen flashed.

  Speedy’s whole face dropped. “Oh man—oh COME ON. We were just on his team…”

  His voice cracked.“…now we gotta go against him? Valor’s gonna take this way too personal.”

  Blueprint stared up at the screen.

  Perma whispered, “Yep. The match I was hoping for.”

  Across the field, Valor smirked like the bracket had been handcrafted for him.

  Mirage didn’t react.

  Sync groaned loudly.

  Captain Edge stood unmoving.

  Another burst of light.

  Grid’s head tilted back slowly, eyes narrowing. “…Our luck. We have to face one of the most coordinated teams in the facility.”

  Thorn turned to look at him. “Could be worse.”

  Grid squared down and looked forward at Prime Ring not looking at Thorn as he replied. “Yeah? Name one way.”

  Thorn laughed under his breath.

  Silverline sighed dramatically.

  Sunstrike crossed her arms tighter. “Why did we have to get the wiz kid first.”

  Arcline’s grin somehow grew larger than before.

  Halo swallowed hard.

  The final matchup surged onto the screen:

  Ayasha’s eyes widened — dread hitting like a weight.

  Cael’s jaw clenched.

  Lior’s fingers curled reflexively.

  And before any of them could stop it—

  a memory surfaced.

  ?

  Cael stretched his wrists in the locker room.

  Ayasha tied her gloves as she looked Lior’s way.

  “As long as we don’t have to face Team Ironclad,” she murmured, “we should be okay.”

  Cael nodded hard. “We can handle everyone else. But with Brin’s camouflage, and without Lior’s Slipstream activating… that matchup puts us at a real disadvantage.”

  Lior lowered his gaze. “Sorry guys.”

  Ayasha rose immediately. “No. We’re a team.”

  “And besides,” Cael said, trying to inject confidence, “it’s a one in seven chance we even face them. And bracket seeding is always position-based. I counted us pretty well — we should be top four with Ironclad. Which means it’s literally impossible for them to be our—”

  Titan stepped into the doorway — shadow cutting across the room. “We deal with the cards we’re given,” he said, voice low, steady. “You won’t always have an advantage in battle. Make one yourself.”

  The memory shattered back into the present.

  ?

  Ayasha exhaled slowly — dread still twisting under her ribs.

  Cael stared at the screen, stunned.

  Lior swallowed once, shoulders drawing back despite the weight settling there.

  Titan didn’t move.

  He simply placed a hand on Lior’s back — firm, grounding.

  “Eyes forward,” he said quietly. “Don’t lose the match before it even starts.”

  A ripple of sound moved through the stadium — soft at first, then tightening into a broadcast hum that rolled across the sky.

  The announcer’s voice cut clean through the air.

  “Team Seraph… Team Null…”

  Every head lifted.

  “Return to your assigned locker rooms. Prepare for your match.”

  Gale tilted her chin instead, confidence on display while something tighter pulled beneath it.

  Ditto clapped her hands. “We’ll just have to take them out first.”

  She looked over at Selena to encourage her, but her face was calmer than it should’ve been.

  Seraph moved like a rehearsed symphony — precise, assured, Replica’s smile shining beneath the open roof.

  The announcer continued:

  “All other cadets — report to the stands. Matches begin in twenty minutes.”

  A shift spread through Prime Arena — boots turning, captains signaling, teams breaking from formation.

  Up in the sky, drones drifted closer — red lenses widening like heated embers, hungry for the first clash.

  ?

  (0 hours 10 minutes until Apex Trials)

  High above the arena, a row of box seats overlooked Prime Ring — the vantage point reserved for the Gate Representatives. Chairs too soft. Air too cold. Distance too far.

  Kojo leaned forward against the railing, expression sour. “Why do they have us up here? I could’ve seen the fight better at Sahara.”

  Captain Aegis rested her arm on the rail beside him, eyes narrowed at the stadium floor far below. “I agree with you, Kojo.”

  Lieutenant Marinero was already halfway out of his seat, rolling his shoulders like a man preparing for mischief. “I say forget these seats. Let’s go down there — front row.”

  Glacier Fist grunted his approval, pushing himself to his feet without hesitation.

  The entire suite shifted toward the exit as if a decision had already been made for them.

  Everyone moved—

  Except one.

  Drift.

  He lounged back in his seat, half-curled into the plush cushion like it had caught him at the perfect angle.

  Nightveil paused, turning toward him with an incredulous stare. “Captain.”

  Drift didn’t move. “These seats are… really comfortable.”

  “That’s the problem,” Nightveil snapped. “You’d be asleep before the first match even started.”

  Drift waved lazily, still not rising. “They’re recording it. It’ll be fine.”

  “Captain!”

  Her tone sharpened — firm enough to cut through the glass, loud enough that a few heads turned.

  Drift finally groaned his way upright, patting the armrest as if saying goodbye to a close friend. “Alright, alright… I’m getting up.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, then glanced around the box seats.“…Hey, has anyone seen Bastian?”

  Nightveil lifted a brow. “Captain, I’ve seen him like two times since we got here.”

  Drift’s face fell — somehow more dreadful than before, like the information made things worse instead of better.

  A voice rose from the doorway.

  I haven't seen mine in some time either, ” Captain Aegis said, standing at the door with her arms folded.

  “And I think Bastian is rubbing off on him as well.”

  Nightveil pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose. “That kid, wait till I catch him.”

  Captain Aegis turned to walk out, pausing for a second.

  “I wish more of our Neophytes had the free spirit that he has. He’s changed Abasi… almost like a kid who felt the light of the sun for the first time.”

  Just as Aegis was walking out, Marinero walked back in. “Have any of you seen my Neophyte?”

  Drift slid both hands through his shaggy hair. Irritation forming on his forehead.

  Bastian.

  Below them, Prime Arena buzzed louder — the Trials straining against the minutes left on the clock.

  And the representatives finally filed out, headed toward the lower levels… whether Drift liked it or not.

  ?

  As anticipation hit its peak, the announcer finally returned.

  His voice cracked through the arena, bold and thunderous.

  “TEAM SERAPH. TEAM NULL.”

  “Report to the tunnel.”

  The stadium lights tightened into a corridor of gold.

  Torches of noise. Pillars of anticipation. Two silhouettes emerged from opposite ends of the holding hall — then merged into one long line as both teams stepped into the same tunnel.

  Darkness swallowed the floor first.

  Light pushed back from ahead.

  A perfect clash — shadow meeting promise.

  Team Seraph walked with quiet poise.

  Team Null walked with uneven breaths.

  Where the two lines drew parallel, Replica turned her head to team Null — posture regal, chin high, every word delivered like she was addressing a senate chamber.

  “We shall not restrain our full capabilities,” she said, voice composed. “And I request that you honor this battlefield with the same earnest effort. Let us elevate one another to our highest selves.”

  Ditto straightened, hands clasped. “We won’t hold back.”

  K slammed her fist into her palm, smirking. “Let’s show these other gates what we’re made of—K.”

  The timing landed perfectly.

  Replica, Cascade, and Captain Seraph seemed surprised at how the “K” had landed in the right place for the first time.

  Then the echo traveled down the tunnel.

  “—K!!”

  It burst from both teams at once — Gale, Ditto, and Selena lending their voices to the sudden unity.

  Everyone except Captain Null.

  His gaze stayed fixed.

  As though the shared spark was a waste of oxygen.

  The tunnel brightened as the exit drew near, white light spilling across both teams’ faces — anticipation glowing, nerves tightening, hope and pride and fear all tightening into a single breath.

  The time had come.

  The first step into a proving ground they believed would etch their names into Veritas legacy…

  A tournament they thought would define the next chapter of their lives, sharpen their Niches, and crown a generation of rising warriors.

  To the cadets of Veritas, the Apex Trials had become their summit—

  the highest point of the mountain they’d been climbing since the day they were rescued.

  But mountains hold more than peaks.

  They cast shadows.

  And long before any of them realized it… something darker already drifting across the far edges of their horizon — quiet, unseen, inevitable.

  The kind of shadow that devours summits.

  The kind that changes everything.

  The tunnel opened.

  And the first match…

  was about to begin.

  (0 hours 0 minutes until Apex Trials)

  End of Chapter 49