Date: C4:Y23:D101
Location: A1-Classroom, Aetherion Nexus Academy – Neuraxis Prime
The room gleamed like the inside of prism-glass panels, floating data-rings, and a circular platform designed for precision learning. Class A-1st, the highest-ranking cadets from across Neuraxis Prime, were seated in perfect formation. Their uniforms shimmered with house insignias: gold for Thalorven, silver for House Orien, deep blue for Marek. These were the children of power.
Then, the door slid open without a sound.
Aron stepped in.
No announcement. No fanfare.
Just a man in charcoal-gray battle wear, unmarked, unclaimed by any known command or faction. His steps were silent, but every eye turned.
He didn't walk to the central platform. He stood off-center. Watched them watching him.
Then finally, he spoke:
"You can call me Aron. Let's begin."
The silence cracked.
A student stood. Tall, sharp, calculating. Her uniform bore the serpent crest of House Vale On Lurien, heir to the Veridian Guild.
"Wait," she said coolly. "You're our instructor?"
"Correct."
"Strange. I've read through the faculty records. You weren't listed."
Another voice joined, a boy with platinum hair and emerald sigil gloves. Tarin Solvane, another Thalorven scion.
"Even the archives are empty. No history. No postings. No war badges. Not even rumors. It's like you were...born this morning."
Chuckles broke out, light, but sharpened with edge.
Aron didn't move. Just stared at them like a man watching raindrops gather before a storm.
Then he stepped forward and raised a hand.
"You want proof of skill?"
He turned to the control panel at the edge of the arena. Tapped a single node.
Training Mode: Manual Override.
Simulation Level: Red Tier – Lethal Potential Activated.
Opponent Count: 6. AI Gladiators.
The platform transformed. Holograms flickered and solidified, six fully armed gladiator units, armed with energy blades and fusion rounds.
Gasps echoed from the students.
"This is a death-rated simulation!" someone shouted.
"Exactly," Aron said, his voice low. "And now… watch closely."
The moment the first AI charged, Aron vanished.
Not moved, vanished.
In a blink, he reappeared midair, spinning through with a blue arc that tore the bot in half.
Another came, he caught its arm mid-swing and redirected it straight into a third unit, causing both to short in a burst of sparks.
Two left fired in sync.
Aron dropped to one knee, activated a micro-pulse burst from his wrist, sending their projectiles back at them, precision-calculated, impact-perfect.
Six bots. Seven seconds. All gone.
Not a scratch on him.
The simulation deactivated.
The room fell into a silence so dense, it felt like gravity.
Aron straightened and looked across the stunned faces.
"You questioned my history. Fair."
"But history is made by those who act. Not by those who inherit, This class isn't about what your last name bought you. It's about what you become when your shield fails, when your comms are silent, and when your gods don't answer."
"You'll either learn to survive... or you'll die believing your name protects you, Now sit straight. We begin in thirty seconds."
"Forgive me," she said, tone unwavering, "but I have yet to find any records of your academic history. The archives are... surprisingly silent on your achievements."
"The archives are flawed, Lureya. They fail to capture what matters most. My achievements are not the sum of what's written in those records, but of the lessons I will teach you here. And perhaps, of what you will learn from me." he said meeting her glaze
Lureya: (smiles thinly) "You speak of lessons, but without proof, those words are empty. I, too, was taught to value proof. If you truly possess what you claim, I trust it will be made evident soon enough."
Aron's gaze swept the room once more. No longer a sea of skeptics. Just young cadets reeling from shattered assumptions.
He exhaled lightly.
"That's it for today. I don't expect your minds to handle more than this... and frankly, neither do your egos."
Some students stiffened. Others said nothing.
His voice dropped slightly, just above a whisper.
"Tomorrow, we begin with the practical lessons. I suggest you come prepared."
He turned toward the door, steps as silent as his entrance.
"Class dismissed. And... have a nice day."
No one moved.
Only after he left did breath return to the room.
(After Aron leaves)
The door sealed behind him with a hiss!
Stillness lingered like smoke. The once-confident elite of A-1st sat silent, processing the impossible. A Red Tier death simulation. Six kills. No delay. No hesitation. No injury.
"Was that even… human?" someone muttered from the back.
Chairs creaked as students began to shift, whisper, glance around.
Tarin Solvane leaned back in his seat, fingers steepled under his chin. His platinum hair gleamed faintly under the crystalline lighting.
"Well," he said dryly, "that was unexpected."
"Powerful, yes. But something about him doesn't add up."
Across the room, Lureya Vale Lurien remained standing. She watched the door where Aron had vanished, her eyes narrowed in thought.
"You're only just catching on?" she said without looking at him.
Tarin arched an eyebrow. "Do enlighten me, Lureya."
She turned now, smooth and deliberate.
"That man doesn't belong to any known faction, guild, or record. He appears from thin air, displays perfect military technique, and walks away like it means nothing."
"I don't trust phantoms, Tarin. Power without a past? That reeks of something hidden." She said.
Tarin smirked. "I didn't say I trusted him. I said I'm intrigued. There's a difference."
Lureya's eyes narrowed slightly. "You're always intrigued by shiny things. Try thinking beyond fascination."
Tarin gave a mock bow from his seat. "And you, as always, play the serpent's tongue with elegance."
"I speak plainly. Most just aren't sharp enough to keep up."
The room watched them, caught in the tension between two of the most prominent heirs in Neuraxis Prime. Not a soul dared interrupt.
(Same night,
location: Instructor's Quarters, Aetherion Nexus Academy )
Elsewhere, in a room without insignia...
Aron sat cross-legged on the floor, no light but the soft pulse of a holographic orb hovering before him. A quiet hum filled the space, an old resonance frequency, meant for meditation or… recalibration.
His eyes remained closed.
"They're sharper than expected."
"Especially the girl. Lureya."
He exhaled slowly, adjusting the frequency by a fraction. The light deepened to indigo.
"Still..." he muttered, "they're untested. Entitled. Their pride will be their downfall if I don't burn it out early."
A soft beep chimed from a console nearby.
Aron stood.
The screen displayed a name.
Sympha – Encrypted Echo Ping: Level Delta
He didn't answer. He just stared at it, jaw tight.
"Not Now! ."
He powered it down.
Tomorrow would be louder.
[Same Night]
Location: Aezric's House – Gralyn District (Azeric House)
Time: 2300 hours (11.00 P.M)
The room was dim. A single soft-blue halo from the ceiling traced shadows across Aezric's face as he lay flat on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, staring upward.
The sterile ceiling had never looked more alive with possibility.
"Tomorrow… it really starts," he whispered to no one.
"From nothing to something. From shadows to a name."
His heart pounded like it wanted morning to arrive early.
"How am I even supposed to sleep when tomorrow's that big?"
A soft chime echoed from the desk nearby. A warm light flared from his comm-device.
"You won't help yourself by overthinking again, Aezric," said a familiar voice.
He turned to see Sylena, his personal AI assistant, his Mom gifted to him. Flickering gently in holographic form. Her eyes glowed with soft teal, her voice ever calm, layered with coded warmth and care.
"Lack of proper sleep decreases mental sharpness by 32%, increases emotional reactivity, and worsens your chances of impressing anyone tomorrow. Including that girl in the glasses you keep staring at during orientation." she said with a laugh, her simle unfolding gently.
"I do not stare." he said with friendly voice
"You calculated her eye-glint angle four times. That qualifies."
Aezric groaned and rolled over.
"You're not supposed to spy on my thoughts."
"I'm not spying. I'm integrated. There's a difference."
A beat passed.
Then with softer vocie:
"You're ready, Aezric. You just don't believe it yet. Your mother would have said the same. Now rest. You'll need it, for the friends you're going to meet, the tests you'll face... and the future you're about to rewrite."
He smiled, blinking away the fatigue and nerves.
"You're right, Sylena."
"I should sleep."
The lights dimmed.
Outside, the lights of Neuraxis Prime shimmered like stardust spilled from the stars.
[Next Day]
Date: C4:Y23:D102
Location: Gralyn District – Aezric's Home, 0700 Hours (7.00 A.M)
The faint glow of morning light spilled through the cracked blinds of Aezric's room, painting soft patterns on the wall. He lay on his single bed, eyes open long before the alarm chimed. His heart beat faster than it should've. Not fear with excitement.
"Today it begins," he whispered. "No more shadows. No more surviving. Today, I become something."
His fingers brushed over a folded photo of his mother on the bedside table. He sat up slowly, then stood, stretching against the cool air. His uniform dark blue with a thin silver trim of the D-1st class, hung freshly pressed on the hook. Simple. Humble. But it carried promise. He left in a hurry after eating breakfast.
As he reached for it, a soft chime rang from the desk console.
Sylena's voice followed, calm and warm like morning wind through old trees.
Sylena: "Good morning, Aezric. You barely slept. Excitement levels have surpassed your baseline by 37%. That's... quite the spike."
Aezric (chuckling): "Can you blame me? I start real training today. This is the first day of the rest of my life, Sylena. I can't control my energy inside me "
Sylena:"Then you'll need every bit of that life functioning well. Especially your cognition. Lack of sleep impairs memory retention and reaction time."
Aezric:"I get it, I get it. You sound like my mom."
Sylena: "A compliment. I accept." (playful pause) "Now go. Shine. Be seen. And remember: your future doesn't belong to statistics. It belongs to you."
He gave a soft nod and exited his room, heading for the tram line with fire in his stride.
[Location: D-1st Class Hall – Aetherion Nexus Institute, 0800 Hours]
The room was wide, with curved walls lined by kinetic chalkboards and drone-mounted projectors. D-1st students sat in casual clusters, mid-conversation, until a sharp heel-click echoed.
Instructor Nita Glacier entered. Tall, severe, her silver cyber-shawl fluttered behind her like a blade cutting the air.
Nita:"Silence."
It dropped like a switch.
Nita (scanning the room):"Today's lecture will be cut short. You'll be evaluated through combat duels. Effective immediately. NOW GEAR UP!"
Gasps!. Whispers!. Aezric's eyes lit up.
Nita: " Aetherion doesn't raise civilians. We raise defenders. You cannot hide behind theory here. Today, each of you will step into the simulator dome. You will duel, one-on-one. Your instincts, your reflexes, your flaws... they will all be Showed ."
She tapped a panel on her wrist. A floating screen displayed randomized pairings.
Nita (pointing): "Aezric Thalorven. You're up first!."
He froze.
The room turned toward him, curious eyes, skeptical smirks, one or two light laughs. Aezric stood, spine straight.
Nita: "Your opponent, Varek Drusso. Third-generation enforcer lineage. Let's see if Gralyn grit can match noble steel."
[Location: Simulator Dome – D-1st Combat Arena, Minutes Later]
The arena buzzed as two students stepped onto the hard light floor. Aezric faced Varek, a broad-shouldered boy with a sneer carved into his face and gauntlets that hummed with stored kinetic charges.
Varek (mocking):"Hope you brought a stretcher, street rat."
Aezric said nothing. He adjusted his stance, eyes calm.
Nita (commanding):"Begin."
What followed was heat, motion, pressure. The ring lit with movement, Varek charging like a battering ram, Aezric weaving, dodging, countering not with brute force but precision , his moves were amateur.
The duel lasted barely a minute, but it was enough.
Aezric didn't just win. He out-thought Varek, used his opponent's momentum against him, and ended with Varek pinned beneath his own gauntlet's malfunctioned gravity pulse.
The silence afterward wasn't mockery. It was respect.
Nita (to herself): "Interesting…"
She marked something on her datapad.
Next Pair Be ready
Serah Drene vs. Lynd Varros.
Sparks flew, a kinetic clash of agility versus brute speed. Serah won, barely. Lynd painted, smiling despite the loss.
By the end, each student's strengths and flaws were mapped like constellations in Nita's mind.
She dismissed them with a proud nod. "End of session. Stats will be uploaded to your personal records. Training schedules begin tomorrow."
As the class filtered out, laughter and relief buzzing...
Meanwhile…
Far above, on the fourth-floor balcony that overlooked the training floor, a solitary figure leaned against the glass.
A girl, still, silent, and curious.
She had watched everything. And something in her expression had changed.
Her interest, once passive, now stirred. It was unexpected, but it had happened.
She had taken interest in Aezric.
To be continued....