"Why, JJ, why? You could have just let the knife pierce me!" Zane asked, on the floor, holding a young black man in his early 30s wearing an orange jumpsuit and a well-trimmed fade, with his right earlobe missing a decent chunk. Zane's upper body was bare, but only because he had removed his white t-shirt to cover the stab wound. He desperately pressed on it, trying to prevent more blood from spilling.
JJ coughed, blood spilling from his mouth. "What do you mean by why? You'r my G, and we-we-we look out for one another." Another mouthful of blood spilled out of his mouth as soon as he finished that sentence.
"Don't talk. I think the stab punctured one of your lungs," Zane warned. His eyes shifted around, trying to find anything to stop the bleeding and administer emergency aid. Unfortunately, this room was an empty broom closet with nothing but one bucket and three brooms, all of which had been used to barricade the door using the handles.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Zane looked at the door with gritted teeth. The riot was getting out of hand, and at this rate, it was only a matter of time before someone forced their way into this room. Zane knew their chances of surviving were slim, but now was not the time to despair, so he kept looking around, hoping to find something that could help.
"Z."
"Save your energy. You just need to hold on until it's over, and we will get you the help you need."
"Z, I don't think … I'll make it out this time…S-So, let me get it out before I can't."
"Don't say things like this. You just need to hold on for a little while."
"Thank you…Thank you for believing in my dreams," JJ uttered. "All my life, all I ever wanted to do was go to college, to be a lawyer, but there wasn't much opportunity for a kid living in the project. In that place, if you don't rap or play basketball, the chances of leaving that hellhole are almost impossible.
"As for college? Haha, that's only a fool's dream for most people."
Zane held him tighter while putting more pressure on the wound. Tears twinkled down his face, but he desperately tried to stop them, but to no avail. His mouth dried, and all the sounds around him disappeared except JJ's shallow breathing and his murmurs.
"I've been in and out of prison since I was 15, never even had the chance to finish 9th grade. Motherfuckers laughed at me when I said I wanted to be a university graduate. Y-Y-You were the first person to believe in me," JJ murmured. His mind couldn't help but reminisce about all the time Zane spent teaching him how to read and preparing him to take the GED after his release.
Zane lowered his ear closer to JJ's mouth, the tears now pouring even faster than rain. His heart ached, his mind was buzzing, and he wanted nothing more than to scream and rage out, but he held it in. Right now, the only thing that matters is hearing his roommate's last words.
"Thank you for everything," JJ said, his voice trailing off.
"You don't need to thank me. Without you, I wouldn't have survived my first day in this place."
JJ smiled, his white teeth bathed in his own blood, "Do you think I would have been a good…"
"Yes, you would have been one hell of a lawyer," Zane replied, holding the body tighter. He wanted to sob, but he knew his voice could attract more people. So he held on tightly without uttering a single peep. Without the uncontrollable tears, no one could tell the unimaginable pain the young man hiding in the closet was experiencing.
Time stretched on for eternity, and JJ's body turned cold, but Zane stood in the same position. His body could no longer physically produce any more tears, and his strength was fading, but he held on tightly, refusing to let go. The sound of the chaos outside stretched out until there was nothing, no noise, no conflict — just a profound silence.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Z, JJ, are you here?"
No one answered, but the knocking or banging intensified until the three mops snapped. A man in his late 20s rushed into the room, with blood all over his jumpsuit, holding a knife. His body paused when he saw the situation, then trembled. He slowly approached, as if fearing that any sudden movement would make the situation worse. He knelt next to Zane and JJ while gently placing his knife on the floor; his complexion twisted in anger when he saw JJ's cold and lifeless body.
"Sal, JJ, he —"
Salim did not say anything but, out of desperation, placed his fingers under JJ's nose, hoping for a miracle. His left hand suddenly clenched; his body slumped on the ground, his eyes slightly listless. Zane had long known JJ did not make it, but when he saw Salim's reaction, it was the final nail in the heart — the confirmation that he desperately did not want to be true: his friend had died, and all because of him.
Suddenly, Zane spotted the knife Salim had brought, and he could not take his eyes off it. In his mind, this knife was the answer to all his pain, suffering, humiliation, and guilt. As long as he can reach it before Salim reacts, all his problems will be solved. Just as he was about to move, Zane suddenly roared, "No," and the surrounding collapsed.
He was no longer in that tiny, suffocating broom room filled with pain and despair. Instead, he was still in the training hall, surrounded by students and professors. Looking around, Zane found himself half-kneeling, with countless students lying on the floor, many foaming at the mouth, while others screamed louder than children who had a nightmare.
Releasing a low grunt, Zane slowly stood, massaging his temple. Two other students were also standing with him — one man and one woman — and soon afterward, two more joined in. Zane's mind was in chaos, leaving him no time to think about anything else. Instructor Seiya calmly checked his watch, and just before the allotted time ended, another student stood.
"Six of them passed — not bad," Instructor Seiya commented. Three of these students were on the North American Potential List, and the remaining three have just demonstrated sufficient willpower.
"Go ahead," Instructor Seiya instructed. Ms. Luna nodded before casting the 0-ring Light Spell: Disperse Weak Aura. An intense, bright light enveloped the students, but the odd part was that it did not hurt their eyes. On the contrary, everyone felt safer and more secure the more they glanced at it.
Zane felt an unknown power rush into his brain, and immediately afterward, all the negative emotions from that memory dissipated. The gloom hanging above his head evaporated; his mind felt free, calm, and unburdened. And without the previous baggage, his cognitive faculties rapidly recuperated.
"What a terrifying feeling," Zane thought. "But, why did this horrid experience remind me of that magical beast?"
"What you just experienced is called a [Fear Aura]," Instructor Seiya began. He then raised two fingers: "There are two types of aura: physical and spiritual. Grand Knights primarily use the former, while the latter is the one I just used. Spiritual Aura is the outward manifestation of the soul using mental energy as a medium to influence others and the world.
"I'm sure this is not the first time you've experienced it. Your second shift was designed to face the Killing Aura of a magic beast. Do you know why? It's because the usage of spiritual aura is quite common. Many creatures have a passive aura ability. For example, High Level Demons have a passive [Fear Aura]; Magic Creatures with powerful bloodlines — such as dragons — have a passive [Intimidation Aura]; and even magic beasts can easily develop a [Killing Aura] due to constant hunting and killing for food.
"Mages have extraordinary perception, which means it's easier for you to detect and be influenced by aura skills. Over the course of this class, I will train you to resist all kinds of aura, so that you don't freeze or instantly die the moment you meet some random magical creature."
Instructor Seiya glanced at his pocket watch, "Now, take a five-minute break. Then, we'll continue with the training."
Zane resisted the urge to complain; he cast the Water-Condensing Spell to refresh himself, trying to remain in the best shape possible before this fuckery continued. Tom Nguyen and Evans saw his actions and swiftly approached, asking for a sip as well. They had previously run nonstop with no water. Although Ms. Luna's spell seemed to help, it could not truly replace the nutrients and refreshing feeling of drinking water.
A few more people approached Zane, but he helped only the Life Mages, as he remembered Professor Burbank's advice. However, in the spirit of not offending too many people, he directed them to the drinking fountains scattered at designated corners of this track field. He did not know these people, nor was he willing to waste mana on them. According to the instructor, the last step of today's training will be magic, so he needed to conserve his mana as much as possible.
"Alright, time's up. On your feet and let's begin: 5…4…3 ... 2…1."
Zane — who was embracing himself for another trip to memory lane — suddenly felt an immense pressure on his mind. All of a sudden, all his instincts started screaming that he should run away; his mind, no, his soul, screamed to be as far away as possible from the instructor, from this predator that rules over the top of the pyramid chain. He gritted his teeth, fighting all his instincts; he even ignored the blood trickling down from his mouth. No matter what, he would not run away.