The L.E.C. sat in the heavy silence of his private chambers. He leaned toward the window, sliding it open to let the crisp night air filter in. Lighting a cigarette, he took a deep, steadying drag, exhaling a plume of smoke that drifted lazily into the dark sky. A firm knock vibrated against his door.
"Who is it?" he asked, his voice gravelly and authoritative.
"Sir, Executive Committee Rookie, sir!" a young voice called out.
The L.E.C. didn't turn around; he kept his eyes fixed on the horizon. "Come in."
The rookie stepped into the room and was immediately hit by a thick wall of tobacco smoke that smelled like a stink bomb. He winced, fanning his nose with his hand. "Sir, with all due respect, I think you should minimize your smoke inhalation."
The L.E.C. let out a dry chuckle. "Today, I had to watch more than fifty people die, and you're more worried about my smoking?"
The rookie's expression hardened with determination. "Sir, they chose this for themselves. You gave them every opportunity to leave, but they stayed. They signed their own death warrants the moment they stepped into this facility. I know the intensity reached extreme levels for a testing team—especially with Raizen getting involved—but I believe this was the right way to host the exam. This is the Awakened Era. Kids and teens across the globe are manifesting incredible potential and powerful Orvex. The world isn't what it used to be, and this exam was the perfect fit for the level we've reached." He bowed low. "I apologize if I spoke out of line, sir."
The L.E.C. flicked his cigarette out the window, watching the amber spark fall from the heights before turning around. "I suppose you're right. This generation is getting stronger by the day..." He eyed the sixteen-year-old rookie before him as a living example. "But we don't know how the Outsider will react to this era. Since he lost all contact with this world, he might be searching for a perfect vessel to return, or perhaps his body has fully regenerated from that elite beat-down. If he wants to wipe out this generation by increasing the rate of portal releases, we need our warriors ready—and fast. Is everything set?"
The rookie smiled confidently. "Yes, sir. The arena is cleared. The Elites are resting in their private quarters; since this is just a broadcast announcement, there's no need for them to attend. We still have several candidates in the hospital, but their teammates are in their rooms awaiting your word."
The L.E.C. nodded. "Good. Ensure the connection is secure. I'll make the announcement myself."
In Tsukiko's Room
The atmosphere was far less formal. Tsukiko had crawled onto Hoshizaki's side of the bed, clinging to him like a giant teddy bear. Hoshizaki frowned, trying to nudge her away. "Hey, this is my side. Go back to yours."
"No," Tsukiko muffled into his shoulder. "This is my room, so I stay where I want. And I want to stay with you, big brother."
Hoshizaki struggled to pry his arm back from her grip. "Let me go!"
"No! Just give up!" she insisted.
Hoshizaki leaned back with all his weight to break free, but Tsukiko chose that exact second to let go. The sudden lack of resistance sent Hoshizaki tumbling backward, landing squarely on Aiko's perfectly arranged bed. Tsukiko burst into laughter. "Works every time!"
Aiko stared at the mess in disbelief. "What is the deal? It took me twenty minutes to make that bed perfectly, and now you've ruined it," she said, her tone soft but dangerously firm.
Tsukiko offered a quick apology as Hoshizaki scrambled up. "Okay, this is getting out of hand. Right, Zen?"
The three of them turned to see Zen sitting on his own side of the bed, staring blankly into space. He snapped out of his trance when he realized they were looking at him. "Oh... um, did you guys say something?"
Aiko's annoyance softened. She saw the worry etched into his face. "No, we were just messing around."
Zen nodded slowly. "Oh."
Before the conversation could continue, a voice crackled through the speakers, echoing through the halls of the facility.
> "All remaining contenders. We are aware that many of your teammates are still recovering in the hospital, and we know the toll this has taken on you. We have decided to broadcast this announcement rather than calling you to the hall. The exams will resume in two days. Use this time to rest. These extra days are for those in the hospital to heal. Two days may not be enough, but you must prove you can recover with the time you are given. If a member of a team dies, the entire group is disqualified. Take care of each other. We have hundreds of doctors on standby. Stay alert. Each morning, healthy candidates will perform a four-minute drill. It is not compulsory, but you may join at any time. The Elites will not appear again until the day of the Final Phase. That is all. Good luck, and good night."
>
The speaker clicked off. Zen let out a long, heavy breath. "Okay, we have time. I suggest you all use it to rest. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm joining the drill tomorrow. I need to stay in shape before the final phase."
Aiko looked at him with concern. "Seriously? This again? Your muscles haven't even healed yet and—"
"I'm fine," Zen interrupted. "The drills will help me sharpen up. I've never actually trained in my life. I can learn how to better channel my Orvex so no one gets hurt in the final phase. I'm not stupid enough to overdo it."
Aiko sighed, knowing she couldn't change his mind. "Fine. But I'm joining, too. If you start overdoing it, I'll have to stop you."
Hoshizaki waved a dismissive hand. "Well, good luck to both of you on the drills."
Tsukiko immediately elbowed him in the ribs, glaring until he let out a defeated sigh. "Fine... Tsukiko and I will join the drill as well," he muttered like a pouting child.
Zen managed a small smile. "It's settled then. The whole team joins. As for Ren... let him sleep through the break. We have a long day ahead of us. We should sleep as soon as possible."
One by one, they lay down, drifting off into a much-needed slumber.