The train rattled like it had survived too many adventures without him.
Rynn Vale pressed his forehead to the window and watched the plains smear by in streaks of brown and gold. Wind-bent towers leaned over the horizon—ruins from the world that blew itself up long before he was born.
He was fourteen, which apparently meant he was "old enough to risk his life for glory."
That's what the Guild poster said, anyway.
> BECOME A SEEKER. FIND A RELIC. CHANGE YOUR LIFE.
Rynn snorted. "Guess we'll see which one changes first—my life or my lungs."
He tugged at his oversized hoodie and checked the dented metal disk in his pocket: his exam token. It had his number and absolutely no instructions. That seemed about right.
---
Arrival
The capital—Arinhold—was less shining metropolis, more overcrowded machine.
Steam hissed from pipes that shouldn't exist, and the air smelled like burnt metal and fried noodles. Every street swarmed with people chasing rumors of power.
"Candidates to Gate 9!" a loudspeaker blared.
Rynn slipped into the flow of bodies. He looked small beside most of them—barely five-four, wiry, sun-tanned, hair the color of dusty straw and permanently messy. Sea-green eyes darted everywhere, catching every spark of light like a cat chasing reflections.
He wasn't nervous.
He was buzzing.
Somewhere beyond the exam and the Guild walls was the real world—the one his father disappeared into. And Rynn wanted to see it, even if it bit.
---
Gate 9 – Registration Hall
Hundreds of examinees packed the hall, their numbers stitched in red on their sleeves. Holographic screens scrolled above:
> STAGE 1 – THE WILD GRID
Survive 72 hours. Retrieve one authentic relic core.
"Seventy-two hours?" someone groaned.
Another laughed. "If you can't last three days, you shouldn't be here."
Rynn grinned. Sounds fair.
He scanned the crowd and started putting faces to vibes.
---
Lyra Sen
A girl leaning on a column, copper-red hair braided tight, grease-smudged goggles perched on her head. Leather gloves with finger armor gleamed whenever she flexed her hands. She looked like she could fix a tank—or punch through one.
Kael Renn
Tall, neat, coat too clean for this place. Black hair trimmed sharp, gray eyes behind thin glasses. He radiated "top of the class" and "no fun allowed."
Jun Tenar
Broad-shouldered and a little shorter, silver hair sticking every direction, half-eaten pastry in hand. Laughing at nothing. His bag was heavier than he looked lazy.
Isha Vorn
Quiet girl near the wall, blue-black hair, pale robe with medical straps on her forearms. Eyes calm, voice quieter. The kind of presence that made chaos hush itself.
---
Rynn was still people-watching when a voice murmured behind him, cool and close.
> "You're standing on my shadow."
He turned.
The speaker wasn't much older—maybe sixteen—but everything about him felt still. Silver-white hair, almost colorless eyes, simple black coat. His calm made the air colder.
Rynn stepped aside. "Didn't know shadows came with ownership papers."
A faint smile. "Everything does—if you can take it."
Before Rynn could come up with something clever, an alarm blared. The floor split into glowing sections as transport pods rose from beneath.
> "Candidates," a synthetic voice announced, "enter your assigned pod. Your trial begins now. Survive, and the Guild will welcome you. Fail, and the next generation will walk over your ashes."
"Friendly place," Rynn muttered.
Jun whooped somewhere nearby. "Let's gooo!"
Lyra cracked her knuckles. Kael sighed like he already hated everyone.
Rynn hesitated only a second, then stepped into his pod. Metal closed around him with a hiss.
Darkness.
Then a whisper—not the Guild's voice. Softer. Mocking.
> "Good luck, Relic Boy."
Rynn's eyes widened. "Who said that—?"
The floor vanished.
And the world dropped away.
---
End of Chapter 1
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