The door creaked open, its hinges groaning under the weight of the day's exhaustion. Nero trudged inside, his movements sluggish, his body aching from hours of relentless testing. His uniform clung to him uncomfortably, damp from sweat and the lingering chill of the evening rain. He barely made it past the threshold before giving in, his legs buckling as he colpsed onto the bed face-first. The mattress groaned under his weight, but Nero didn't move.

  Zeke followed behind, shutting the door with a quiet click. He lingered for a moment, rolling his shoulders as if to shake off the long day. His eyes flicked toward Nero, who y motionless, half-buried in his pillow.

  "Exhausting day, huh?"

  A muffled groan was his only response. Then, after a long pause, Nero shifted onto his side, propping himself up just enough to gre at Zeke through half-lidded eyes.

  "You have no idea," he mumbled. "Aside from forming the connection and then sitting through the most mind-numbing orientation in existence, the weapon selection absolutely wrecked me." He let himself flop back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. "I think I can still feel my arms swinging weapons that I didn't even pick."

  Zeke huffed a ugh as he crossed the room. "Yeah, well, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if you hadn't gone through fifty different weapons like some indecisive maniac." He perched on the edge of his bed, stretching his legs out. "You had to turn it into a full-blown endurance test, huh?"

  Nero groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I had to be sure," he defended. "This isn't some casual hobby, this is an important checkpoint we're talking about."

  "Right, right." Zeke smirked, leaning back on his hands. "Because a Chosen of Orvian totally needs to see if he can wield a greatsword twice his size."

  "It seemed like a good idea at the time," Nero shot back, turning his head to gre at him. "Besides, easy for you to say, you've got everything all set up. You didn't have to waste time figuring things out."

  Zeke shrugged. "I already use a bow. Why would I need to try anything else?"

  "Exactly," Nero muttered. "Must be nice to have everything just work out for you."

  Zeke let the comment slide, his attention shifting to the window. Rain pattered softly against the gss, trailing in uneven rivulets. The storm had started earlier, sometime during dinner, and now a flicker of lightning split the sky, illuminating the room in pale, eerie light.

  He smirked, tilting his head toward the window. "Well, look at that. Lightning." His voice took on a teasing edge. "Pretty sure Orvian's pissed at you for calling him useless all the time."

  Nero huffed sharply, somewhere between a ugh and a sigh. "I'm not calling him useless," he corrected, waving a hand dismissively before letting it drop onto his chest. "I'm grateful, really. I mean, he's my patron and all." He turned his head slightly, smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm just calling his abilities useless."

  Another crack of lightning streaked across the sky. Thunder followed soon after, low and rumbling.

  Zeke arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, well… tell that to the storm outside."

  Nero let out a long breath, sinking deeper into his mattress. His body ached, his eyelids felt heavier than stone, and at this point, even the storm outside couldn't keep him awake.

  "I'm going to sleep now," he muttered, voice sluggish.

  Zeke gave him a ft look. "At least wash up first."

  The only response was the soft, rhythmic sound of snoring.

  Zeke sighed, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

  Rather than dwelling on it, he grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom. The distant rumble of thunder accompanied the steady patter of rain against the window as he turned on the shower, letting the warm water wash away the fatigue clinging to his body.

  Steam curled around him, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the rare moment of solitude.

  The storm continued outside, but Nero was already far away, lost in the depths of sleep, where no exhaustion could reach him.

  The following days would be so nice, he thought, drifting into dreams.

  * * *

  The following days were NOT nice.

  It had been five days since the orientation, and the initial excitement had worn off like a cheap enchantment.

  At first, all four of them—Nero, Zeke, Iris, and Jaris—had been hyped. They rushed to css early, grabbing seats at the very front, eagerly jotting down everything the instructors said. It was the kind of enthusiasm that made them believe they were about to learn the secrets of Faltheris, the intricacies of battle, the hidden truths of the world beyond.

  And then reality hit.

  More than half the subjects turned out to be completely useless.

  It wasn't all bad, some lessons covered Faltheris's history, mana theory, and flora and fauna of Faltheris. But then came the dry, mind-numbing lectures about policy, logistics, and the ever-so-exciting advancements in mana-infused technology. For five days straight, it had been nothing but theoretical nonsense.

  Zeke, to no one's surprise, barely even wrote notes. He sat through the lectures with an air of disinterest, sometimes leaning back with his arms crossed, other times doodling in the margins of his notebook instead of paying attention. The only time he seemed even remotely engaged was when he was sarcastically whispering to Nero about how thrilling it all was.

  Jaris, on the other hand, unexpectedly, was the complete opposite. He sat with ser focus, absorbing every word as if his life depended on it, but considering how harsh the academy was, it probably did.

  Then there was Iris and Nero.

  The two of them were practically buzzing with excitement at the start, wide-eyed and eager to commit everything to memory. They wrote so fast during the first few days that their hands must have been cramping by the time the third lecture rolled around.

  But then, the second day rolled in.

  And the same thing happened.

  And then the third day.

  And the fourth.

  By the fifth, the entire group was done.

  Nero could barely keep himself from dozing off during yet another lecture about Faltheris's social hierarchy. Iris, who once hung onto every word, was now resting her chin on her palm, absentmindedly spinning her pen between her fingers. Jaris still tried his best, but even he was beginning to lose focus, his once-neat notes turning into half-finished scribbles.

  At lunch that day, they all sat slumped at their table, poking at their food in silence.

  Eventually, Zeke let out a long sigh, shaking his head. "You know, it's funny watching all three of you lose that day-one enthusiasm."

  Iris groaned, dropping her head onto the table. "If I have to listen to one more lecture about mana-infused farming, I'm going to lose it."

  Jaris scoffed and straightened up, clearing his throat before mimicking their professor's droning tone. "Mana-infused agriculture, infrastructure, and structural reinforcement are the cornerstones of Faltheris's advancements. Without mana-infused beams, our bridges and buildings would ck the resilience needed to withstand the world's unique environmental conditions—"

  "No," Iris cut in, pointing her fork at him. "No more. I refuse to hear another word about mana-infused anything."

  Nero sighed, leaning back in his chair. He had been prepared for combat training, for real survival lessons, not for five days of this.

  Zeke leaned back in his chair, stretching zily. "Well, at least tomorrow isn't going to be a complete waste. We've got weapon training, ability training, and then next weekend, battle tactics."

  The moment the words left his mouth, he felt three pairs of eyes lock onto him.

  Nero, Iris, and Jaris all stared at him as if he had personally wronged them.

  "…What?" Zeke asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "You get to attend ability training," Iris said, crossing her arms.

  "Meanwhile, we're still stuck waiting," Jaris added.

  Zeke smirked. "Oh, come on. It's whatever. Hardly anyone has awakened an ability yet, anyway."

  That did not help. If anything, the three of them looked even more betrayed, their collective pouting intensifying.

  "At least we'll be together for the other two csses," Nero muttered, leaning back in his chair. "That's something."

  Iris sighed. "Yeah… I guess. But still."

  Jaris shook his head. "Enjoy your special little css, Zeke. We'll be over here suffering."

  Zeke just chuckled, leaning further into his chair.

  * * *

  Professor Warren stood at the front of the cssroom, his short frame doing little to make him appear more imposing. Despite that, his sharp eyes carried the weight of experience, commanding attention as soon as he spoke.

  "All of you here are fortunate," he began. "You've already awakened an ability, what some would call talent. That alone puts you ahead of most initiates. But don't let it get to your heads. This is only the beginning."

  Zeke leaned back in his seat, barely listening. He'd heard simir words before. Even if someone reached the rank of Primarch, Professor Warrens would probably say, "This is still the beginning." The man always acted like there was some greater peak just out of reach, no matter how far one climbed.

  His gaze drifted across the room, taking in the others present. Most were ordinary enough, but then his eyes nded on her.

  A girl with pure bck hair sat near the edge of the room, her expression unreadable. There was a quiet stillness about her, like she barely existed within the same space as everyone else. She didn't fidget, didn't gnce around, didn't even seem interested in what the professor was saying.

  Zeke recognized her instantly.

  She's here too, huh?

  It made sense. With only so many professors teaching ability training, he was bound to cross paths with another one of the descendants of the Ten Great Families.

  Kara Valtieri.

  The current prodigy of the Valtieri family. Unlike the other Great Families, who wielded power in politics, military strategy, or commerce, the Valtieri concerned themselves with only one thing—producing prodigies. And Kara was their test.

  She was supposedly special. Some cimed she had a rare physique, something that set her apart from the rest. Whether that was true or not, Zeke had never cared enough to confirm.

  His fingers twitched. His thoughts drifted towards someone else.

  A vague memory.

  A girl with dark blonde hair, smiling at him warmly. Her lips moved, forming words, but they were hazy, just out of reach, like a voice swallowed by the wind.

  Not now.

  Zeke exhaled sharply, forcing the thought away.

  Focus.

  He turned his attention back to the css.

  * * *

  The next css was Weapons Training.

  Nero twirled the spear in his hands, feeling its weight, the shift of bance as he adjusted his grip. He had tested a dozen weapons by now, but something about the spear just felt right. The range, the fluidity—it was different from the clunky weapons he'd tried before.

  Today's lesson was about weapon handling. With so many students, it should have been chaotic, but Professor Fable moved through the crowd with practiced ease, offering sharp, efficient guidance to anyone struggling.

  "You! Your stance is all wrong," he barked, nudging a student's leg with the tip of his own weapon. "If your bance is off, you're just begging to be knocked on your ass. Fix it."

  Another student was struggling to lift a greatsword, their swings slow and clumsy. Fable gave them a long look.

  "You trying to fight, or are you pnning to get buried under that thing?" he said, unimpressed. "Lean into your strikes. Use the weapon's weight, don't let it use you." He barely paused before shaking his head. "Actually, forget it. That thing's bigger than you. Try something that won't fold you in half." Without waiting for a response, he handed them a smaller bde and moved on.

  Nero rolled his shoulders, gripping his spear tighter. So far, it felt good in his hands.

  Maybe, just maybe, he had finally found the weapon meant for him.

  As the session wrapped up, Professor Fable cpped his hands together, drawing everyone's attention. His voice, firm but not unkind, rang out across the training grounds.

  "Alright, listen up!" he called. "Now that most of you have selected a weapon, you'll be issued a standard version of it. But let me be clear, these are not toys. You will not be using them outside of training grounds unless you want trouble. And trust me, you don't want trouble."

  A few initiates exchanged nervous gnces.

  "Next session, I'll be teaching you about space storing—how to store your weapon in a miniature pocket dimension with the help of special artifacts. Until then..." He took a slow look at the group, hands behind his back, like a commander surveying his troops.

  "I expect you to train."

  His tone wasn't harsh, but it left zero room for excuses. "Holding a weapon is one thing. Using it properly is another. So unless you pn on embarrassing yourselves next css, put in the work."

  With a nod, he waved them off. "Dismissed."

  As they walked off, the usual post-css chatter kicked in.

  "Daggers, huh?" Nero gnced at Jaris' new weapons. "Didn't take you for the sneaky type."

  Jaris twirled one between his fingers. "I'd rather not fight head-on if I don't have to."

  "So... hiding?"

  "It's called 'strategic positioning,' Nero."

  Iris rolled her eyes. "That's just cowardice."

  "And?" Jaris said ftly.

  She groaned, already done with the conversation.

  Iris, on the other hand, was still empty-handed. "I don't really like weapons," she admitted. "Maybe I'll get a wand in the future, but for now? Pass."

  Zeke gnced at her. "You should still get used to holding something. Even casters need a backup."

  "I'll think about it," she muttered.

  Nero turned to Zeke. "Must be nice not having to deal with this."

  Zeke just shrugged. "You'll figure it out."

  "Still," Jaris stretched, yawning, "it is kinda unfair that you got to stand around all css."

  Zeke just gave him a look. "Not my fault."

  Jaris sighed dramatically. "Ugh. Whatever. At least we don't have css for the rest of the day."

  And with that, the conversation shifted to the most important topic, what was for Lunch.