The training hall settled into a hush the moment Charles stepped back, still dizzy from his own trial. His inscriptions glimmered faintly before dimming, and he took his place with the rest of the students, chest rising with the glow of accomplishment.
Now it was Osei Jerry's turn.
He stepped forward with a quiet, simmering readiness. His eyes—usually reserved, almost hiding behind the shell he built to blend into the world—were sharp tonight. No fear. No hesitation. He cracked his neck once, a clean pop echoing through the hall like a promise.
"Alright, sir," he said, rolling his shoulders. "I'm ready."
Aprexion's expression darkened in that mischievous way he was famous for. A smile that said I hope your soul packed lunch.
There was a beat.
A breath.
A distortion in the air.
Then—
TCHAOOM!
The arrow shot with wild, unpredictable speed—but it didn't stop. It ricocheted off the first pillar, then the second, then spiraled into a looping pattern so chaotic even the winds seemed confused. The hall erupted in gasps. The arrow wasn't following a trajectory—it was misbehaving.
Even Kainen blinked, taken aback.
The students? Mouths hanging wide open like dropped buckets.
Aprexion clicked his tongue and smirked.
"This is especially for you, Jerry. Tell me… how do you fight an enemy that refuses to stay in one place?"
Osei didn't flinch.
His eyes moved so fast it looked like a hummingbird lived behind his skull.
The arrow bounced off pillars, walls, and the ground, its trajectory a madman's signature.
Jack squinted, his analysis eyes lighting.
"This isn't random," he whispered. "It's… complex. Almost alive."
Charles muttered, "There's a pattern. A… flow code. I can't even break it down fast enough."
Even Yyvone watched with her hands balled into nervous fists.
"C'mon, Jerry…"
But Osei was beyond the world now.
He closed his eyes.
Aprexion raised a brow. "Do not use future shift. And don't touch your precognition. Raw instincts only."
Osei nodded.
Then… he held his breath.
The teachers exchanged looks.
Holding his breath? During this?
But Osei wasn't panicking. He was listening.
His chest still.
His face calm.
His ears tuned to every minuscule detail.
PING—an arrow hits stone.
TING—echoes off metal.
WHHRT—cuts through the air.
He wasn't following the arrow anymore. He was following the music of it.
His head tilted left, then right, then slightly upward. His body aligned with the sound rather than the sight. Like his subconscious had taken the wheel and sent his conscious mind to the passenger seat.
Jack's eyes widened.
"He's… in the zone."
Charles whispered, "This is a pure cognitive flow state… but instinct-driven. That's insane."
Osei's eyelids lifted just enough to see the blur of silver coming his way.
He didn't think.
Didn't guess.
Didn't predict.
He moved.
In the blink of a cosmic heartbeat—
SWAP!
A burst of Avian shimmer flashed.
The arrow froze in the air where Osei once stood.
And Osei?
He perched on the top of a pillar like a bird that had just remembered it had wings all along.
He smirked. "That's Tuesday."
The hall erupted.
Even Aprexion's smirk softened into approval.
Osei climbed down, dusting his palms. His work was done.
Then Sonia stepped forward.
Her entrance was less dramatic—no cracking necks or quiet swagger—but the air shifted around her all the same. Her aura glowed a steady green, like determination wearing armor.
"Let's get this over with," she said.
Aprexion didn't even bother smirking. He just raised his bow and shot the arrow straight into the skies.
Sonia watched it climb higher and higher, disappearing into the white-blue glow of the metaphysical heavens above Airious.
She blinked.
"Oh. You're doing that lesson."
Kainen folded his arms.
"Can you swap midair, Sonia?"
"I—uh— I'll try."
She bent her knees and leapt.
Nothing.
She jumped again.
Still nothing.
Another jump—
The ground cracked under her feet. The floor plates were strong enough to endure battle simulations—but not enough to endure Sonia's stubborn joy when it reached critical mass.
"Sonia," Yyvone whispered, touching her shoulder, "try using the inner echo…"
Sonia froze.
"The… inner echo?"
They all knew the danger of it.
But with no ghouls around… the teachers didn't step in.
"Okay…" Sonia breathed.
She inhaled.
Her aura flickered.
Then—
SWAP!
A bright pulse of green shot upward.
And suddenly Sonia wasn't on the ground.
She was in the sky.
High above Airious.
So high she could see the entire city of shimmering towers, floating bridges, and ethereal academies scattered across the horizon like constellations made of stone. Students sparred on rooftop arenas. Avian banners fluttered in cosmic winds. The twin metaphysical suns bathed the realm in gold and white.
The view stole her breath.
And in that breathless awe—
Her aura shifted.
Green softened into gold-yellow.
Joy.
Pure, overwhelming joy.
She hovered gently, instinctively catching herself before gravity could even think about misbehaving.
She floated down with her palms open, laughter bubbling out of her like she was releasing years of trapped sunlight.
She landed with a soft thud.
The arrow, loyal as a puppy, reappeared right where she had stood earlier.
Sonia grinned.
Then swapped with it again—just because she could.
The hall erupted in laughter and applause.
Osei chuckled softly. Jack beamed. Yyvone hugged her. Even Charles, usually stoic, cracked a smile.
Aprexion shook his head.
"Reckless," he muttered.
Kainen murmured, "But beautifully done."
The training hall felt lighter now.
Not because the trials were easy—
but because the students were beginning to realize:
They weren't just learning techniques.
They were learning themselves.
Each test was a mirror.
Each challenge a whisper:
Who are you when the world stops giving you time to think?
And tonight, two of them had answered boldly.
Osei's instincts.
Sonia's joy.
Both true.
Both powerful.
Both theirs.
The teachers exchanged subtle nods.
Progress.
Real, heartfelt progress.
And the journey was only beginning.
The laughter from Sonia's high-sky stunt was still hanging in the rafters when Kainen raised a hand for silence.
"Next," he said, his voice steady as a blade. "Yyvone."
She stepped forward nervously, ready for another arrow trick. Her threads glowed faintly around her fingertips, shimmering like soft morning light.
But Aprexion twirled the arrow once, then tucked it behind his back.
"Enough with the arrows," he said.
Jack blinked. "Wait… what?"
Kainen smirked.
"Jack, you'll be swapping places with her."
A beat of stunned silence.
Then—
"Oooooooh…"
A wave of excitement rolled through the class. Half awe, half gossip, all chaos. The perfect recipe for entertainment.
Jack cracked his knuckles. "Oh, it's about time."
Yyvone swallowed. "H-how is it going to… y'know… work?"
Kainen waved a hand. "Don't worry. Your inner echo will handle the heavy lifting."
Aprexion pointed between them.
"Make sure neither of you sees the other before swapping. Understood?"
Jack shot Yyvone a grin. "Alright, Thread Girl. Counting on you."
Then he hollow-stepped straight out of the hall, vanishing with a faint streak of lightning.
Moments later, he was strolling across a rooftop far ahead of the academy, whistling like he was waiting for a friend to show up for lunch.
Back in the hall, Yyvone inhaled. Her aura blossomed gently, threads of luminous silver unraveling from her vision—her inner echo. The threads darted outward, searching, weaving through corridors, scanning rooftops, listening for Jack's distinctive lightning-tinged presence.
Then—
SWIP!
In the blink of an eye, Jack was standing right back in the hall, blinking in surprise.
And Yyvone was now perched gracefully atop the distant rooftop.
Jack dusted his sleeves. "Oh. That was new."
Aprexion nodded with rare approval. "Good. Now Jack—your turn. Do what she did."
Jack cracked his neck. "Got it."
On the rooftop, Yyvone hollow-stepped again—vanishing and reappearing deep in the academy's campus.
Jack swapped.
And suddenly—
He was standing on the Avian Interchange, a sweeping metaphysical highway where Airien students zoomed through their speed drills like comets.
He didn't even finish blinking before—
FWOOOM!
A streak of light tore past him.
Then another.
And another.
Jack activated his analysis eyes instantly. The world slowed, frames stretching wide like a cosmic film reel.
"Oh, I see…" he murmured.
"You dropped me in a race. Real cute, Yyvone."
He smirked.
Then he snapped his fingers—
SWIP!
—and reappeared back in the training hall.
Meanwhile, Yyvone now stood smack in the middle of the Interchange, eyes wide as racing students whooshed past her in confusion.
Back in the hall—
Kennedy laughed. "That girl has a sense of humor."
Ian crossed his arms solemnly. "Diabolical."
Jack's grin turned downright villainous.
"Oh, she wants to play? Bet."
He snapped—
SWIP!
This time, he didn't land in a hallway or rooftop.
He materialized in a different training class entirely—
Team Next Gen, the legendary seniors.
Instant silence fell.
Hersa, who could make literal boundaries out of anything, raised a brow.
"Look who teleported into the wrong neighborhood."
Cayso popped a grape into his mouth—grapes made of pure deliciousness, an abstract concept he'd manifested into fruit.
"Lightning boy," he said, "where's your homie?"
Jack shrugged. "She's around."
The others stood nearby—Targor, Zekar, Nova, Frolo—each one a walking warning label.
Targor nudged Zekar. "Someone wants to see you, Jack."
Hersa smirked. "Yeah. You have no idea how much she's been waiting."
Jack's breath hitched—just slightly. Only slightly. But they all saw it.
From the shadowed corner, a soft light emerged.
A girl stepped forward—
Lia.
Her cheeks glowed pink, eyes refusing to meet his.
"Hi…"
Jack's smile softened into something real. "Oh—it's you. How've you been?"
Lia stammered. "Good. I mean—great. I mean I'm— I'm fine."
Every senior stifled laughter at her meltdown.
Lia swallowed, mustering every scrap of courage she had.
"Jack… there's something I wanted to tell you."
Jack stepped closer. "I'm listening."
"It's been on my mind for a long ti—"
SWIP!
And she was gone.
Yyvone now stood in her place.
She blinked at the startled seniors. "Hehe… hi."
The entire class groaned.
"Oh COME ON!"
"That was evil!"
"Justice for Lia!"
Lia's relief and disappointment tangled together on her face like crossed wires.
Jack reappeared in the hall—
rage-confused.
"Yvvvooone—!!"
The hall exploded into laughter.
Kennedy fell to his knees wheezing.
Charles—stoic Charles—laughed so hard his glasses slipped.
Yyvone hollow-stepped back into the hall, unable to meet Jack's glare.
"Sorry…" she whispered. "Hehe."
Jack's expression said, plainly:
You absolutely planned that.
Henry strolled forward with the calm arrogance of a man who enjoys gasoline on fire.
"It was my idea," he said.
Wink.
Jack sputtered. "Henry—NOT YOU TOO!"
More laughter rippled outward, warm and wild, a perfect counterbalance to the intensity of their training. For a moment the weight of ghouls, powers, destinies, and worlds beyond worlds felt distant—washed away by pure camaraderie.
And as the echoes settled, Henry stepped forward.
His turn.
He inhaled once, slow and steady.
Whatever Aprexion chose next…
whatever test came for him…
It was going to reveal something fundamental—
something buried in the heart of the boy chosen by lightning itself.