The lights above dimmed to a clinical gray. No applause this time. No whispers of nobles. Only the sterile hum of machines resetting.
The Art trial had left an invisible wound hanging in the air — one that even the audience seemed afraid to breathe near.
Eghosa stood still, her hands cold despite the heat of the arena lamps. Trisha stood beside her, eyes dark and unreadable, jaw clenched as if holding back words that could shatter the air itself. Across from them, Cairn smiled faintly — a noble's smile, the kind that mocked without moving a muscle.
The instructor stepped forward. His expression was neither cruel nor kind. It was… exact.
He raised his tablet and began, his voice sharp and metallic through the echoing hall.
"The first test measured your ideals.
This one will test your innovation."
From the floor, ten metal pods rose — smooth, oval, silver, and cold. Each bore a single identifier glowing faintly in blue.
"Each of you will enter a chamber. Inside, you'll find raw materials — nothing labeled, nothing explained.
Your task is to create a tool of survival, using only what you can deduce and assemble."
A murmur spread through the crowd. The challenge sounded simple. Too simple.
But Ancelot's gaze, from the judges' box, said otherwise.
"The real test," he thought, "is not innovation. It's clarity."
Crassus, standing near the viscount's dais, adjusted his red glove with quiet amusement. He leaned close to a noble beside him and whispered,
"Now we see who can think without being told what to think."
The instructor continued, ignoring the audience.
"Each chamber will simulate an environment — different for each of you.
You have twenty minutes.
Survival will depend not on invention alone… but on choice."
A faint sound of gears turning filled the arena. The pods hissed open, dark interiors waiting like open mouths.
"Enter," the instructor commanded.
The students stepped forward one after another. Cairn, his chin high. Melissa, calm as a blade. Bastet, quiet but focused. Helena, restless. Amos, unreadable, still holding his children's book. Trisha — jaw set like iron.
And finally, Eghosa.
Her heartbeat thudded against her ribs as she entered the pod. The door sealed behind her with a hiss. Darkness swallowed everything.
Then, a faint glow — revealing a small table before her. On it lay:
A metal cylinder.
A container of unknown liquid.
A lens.
And a battery.
The voice came through the speakers again, low and detached:
"Behind that door is a creature — hungry, starved, ready to kill.
Build something to survive."
The countdown began.
20:00.
Eghosa drew a breath.
"Okay," she whispered to herself. "No comfort. No trust. Just logic."
Her hands began to move.
Outside, in the observation booth, the viscount turned to the UNE judges.
"I assume this test will be graded the same way?"
One of the judges smiled faintly.
"Of course. Humanity needs more than brilliance. It needs clarity of priority.
We'll see who understands what must be sacrificed to live."
Ancelot's jaw tightened. His fingers curled over his cane.
Even he couldn't understand the purpose of this test. What were they trying to achieve exactly? What was the goal?
Inside the pod, Eghosa stared at the apparatus before her — confused.
A bomb? No. Missing key materials.
A trap? Too risky.
Every thought crashed into another. Nothing made sense.
She could feel panic from the others — muffled gasps through the thin walls. The fear comforted her; at least she wasn't alone.
Minutes passed. No solutions.
Then, amid the tension, a calm, cold voice pierced the silence.
Amos.
"Cairn," he said evenly, "why do you think they allowed us to hear each other?"
Cairn frowned. "I'd like to answer, but this isn't the time for riddles, Amos."
Eghosa's eyes widened.
Because they want us to work together.
"Because they want us to work together," she said aloud.
Amos's voice was calm.
"Hmm. Good, Eghosa, was it? You have some brains at least."
Was he mocking her? She wanted to retort, but Bastet spoke next.
"Work together how?"
Now everyone waited for Amos.
"First," he said, "we share what we have. Then, we'll see the pattern."
He began. "I have a plasma orb, a casting fluid, and thirty-six screws."
Cairn followed. "Three bottles of besom chemical and a rotor motor gear."
Melissa added, "A cooling agent and two plasma conductors."
"I have a gun's stop lock and two rebounds," said Trisha.
"I have five X-blaster bullets," Helena replied.
Eghosa hesitated, then added, "A lens, a metal container, a battery, and a bluish frost liquid I don't recognize."
Amos's voice came again, measured, certain.
"I have a book that says how to make an X-blaster.
And everything you just listed… are the materials needed."
The realization hit them all at once.
Eghosa drew a sharp breath — awe mixing with fear. Amos had seen it before anyone else.
Cairn spoke again. "Your plan has a flaw. The materials are separate — the walls keep us apart. How do we assemble together?"
Amos chuckled softly. "We won't need to worry about that. The key is already in your hands.
Am I right, Eghosa?"
She froze. "What…?"
He continued, "That substance in your possession — gallium-367. Highly corrosive to metal."
That was all he needed to say. The answer bloomed like fire in her mind.
"We can use it to melt the barriers," she said quickly. "Create openings between our pods!"
"Exactly," Amos replied.
Without hesitation, Eghosa smeared the liquid across the wall. It sizzled, hissed — the metal dissolving. The barrier fell, revealing Bastet on the other side. Together, they passed the gallium around, each room breaking open until they were all united — seven students in one glowing corridor.
Amos sat cross-legged at the far end, book in hand, calm as ever.
"Let's get to work," he said.
In thirteen minutes, under his guidance, they assembled the X-blaster.
Three minutes to spare.
They exhaled as one — even Cairn's noble mask softened into a smile. In that moment, they were equals. Allies. Friends.
Then Amos spoke again.
"This is too easy."
Cairn looked up, wary. "What do you mean?"
Eghosa's chest tightened. His tone had changed — colder, sharper.
Amos's lips curved faintly.
"I've always told you, Cairn. Victory is only attained when there is no competition."
Before anyone could react, he snatched the X-blaster and fired three plasma shots into the sealed door ahead.
Boom!
"What are you doing?!" Eghosa shouted.
Melissa moved between them, eyes warning her not to interfere. Trisha pulled Eghosa back, shielding her instinctively.
Eghosa trembled with rage.
"So that's it, huh? We only work together when it benefits you? Once you've used us, we're disposable?"
Her voice cracked. The pain of the villa, the tests, the humiliation — it all spilled out.
"You bastards on your high horses think you're the sky! But you're just—"
Trisha gripped her hand. "Eghosa. Don't."
Amos didn't even glance at her. He opened his book again. "The door opens in one hundred seconds."
Eghosa laughed bitterly. "Then let's die to whatever's behind it."
Cairn glanced at him. "What's your aim?"
Amos only smiled.
The countdown continued.
25… 24… 23…
Eghosa glared at him. "If we die, remember — it's on you."
3… 2… 1…
The door burst open. Light flooded the corridor. A monstrous reptiloid stepped through — a titan of scales and venom, its tail pulsing with poison, its roar shaking the ground.
Everyone froze.
Then —
Thud.
The creature fell, blood oozing from its skull.
Silence.
The audience. The instructor. The nobles. Even the viscount — frozen.
Amos closed his book.
"Like I said," he murmured.
"Victory is only attained when there is no competition."