The air beneath the city was thick—hot, gritty, metallic. Sam stood near the iron gates of the underground ring, his hood pulled low, watching as the crowd roared behind the stone pillars. Flames flickered along torch sconces, casting jagged shadows on faces hungry for blood and spectacle.
He shouldn't have been here.
But when he saw Rin—the quiet kid from Dorm Nullis—shoved into the pit during a "punishment match," Sam had moved before thinking. Rin was no fighter. He was a sigil theory hopeful, always buried in diagrams, not combat drills. He'd gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd—ring organizers who offered fake deals to desperate students.
Now, Rin was going to be torn apart.
Unless Sam stepped in.
He turned to the announcer—a wiry man with ink across his face and eyes like glass.
"I'll fight in his place," Sam said, voice calm.
The man raised an eyebrow. "You? Who even are—"
Sam tossed a worn silver coin onto the table. The one he'd found in his dorm, engraved with the Nullis crest. A token of challenge. He didn't know what power it held here, but it was enough to make the announcer's eyes widen.
The man gave a sharp nod. "Fine. Rules are simple. Stay alive. No magic seals above Tier-1. No killing... unless they ask for it."
He tossed Sam a mask—silver, cracked, like porcelain with a jagged smile. The inside smelled of ash and sweat.
Sam tied it on without a word.
From now on, he wasn't Sam Switzer of Nullis.
He was just Ash.
---
The stone floor of the ring was scarred with dried blood. Above, the stands rumbled. No students here—only City A's underbelly. Off-duty mercs, rogue mages, and dropouts of Nova Sanctum who'd fallen through the cracks.
The announcer stepped into the center.
"Tonight's filler bout—one of our own got cold feet, but a substitute steps forward!"
He gestured toward Sam. "A fresh mask, no name! Let's see if he leaves with a face!"
The gate opposite creaked open.
Sam's opponent stepped out: a hulking youth, older, with copper skin and deep scars across his arms. He wielded two jagged knives, and his aura rippled with suppressed aggression.
"Name's Korr," he growled. "Hope you scream."
Sam didn't answer.
He breathed in—slow and deep. Let the crowd fade. Let the noise vanish. Back to the feeling from the trial. The edge between fear and clarity.
Then the bell rang.
Korr lunged.
Sam barely sidestepped, letting instinct guide him. He ducked under the first slash, pivoted on his heel, and slammed his palm into Korr's gut—not hard, but precise. A ripple of Aether pulsed from the contact, enough to stagger the larger man.
He'd learned one thing from watching Zeke.
Don't waste motion.
Korr recovered fast, throwing a wild uppercut. It scraped the side of Sam's mask—cracking it slightly—but he flowed with the force, rolled, and came up behind his opponent.
This time, he didn't hesitate.
Aether channeled through his legs as he launched himself upward, knee-first into Korr's chin.
Crack.
Korr dropped.
The crowd went still.
And then they roared.
"Mask stays," the announcer called. "Ash wins."
Sam stood in the center of the pit, breath heavy. The broken mask clung to his face, hiding the fire in his eyes.
He looked at Rin—still wide-eyed from the sidelines, alive, saved.
No one clapped for him.
No one knew who he was.
And that made it perfect.
Late that Night – Dorm Nullis, Room 3B
The moonlight slipped in through the cracked windowpane, casting fractured silver lines across the stone floor. Most of the dorm had gone quiet, a silence only broken by the occasional creak of the old beams or distant howls of wind scraping the eaves.
Sam lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His knuckles were still sore. The mask, now scrubbed clean, sat hidden under the loose floorboard beside his mattress.
Across the room, Rin shifted under his blanket. Restless. Awake.
"Sam?" his voice came out low, hesitant.
Sam didn't answer at first. Just blinked slowly.
Rin sat up. "Someone… saved me tonight."
Sam turned slightly, just enough for their eyes to meet across the room in the dark.
"I shouldn't have gotten involved," Rin muttered, voice shaking. "It was stupid. I just… they said they'd help me buy focus runes. That I could trade information from classes once they started. I didn't think they'd actually throw me in—"
"You're lucky they didn't throw you out," Sam said, not harshly. Just honest.
Rin nodded. "Yeah. I know."
A pause. Long enough for silence to return. Then—
"I don't know who that guy was," Rin continued. "The one who fought in my place. But… I owe him everything."
Sam looked back up at the ceiling. "You ever wonder why Dorm Nullis is so quiet?"
Rin blinked. "Huh?"
"We all carry weight," Sam murmured. "We just don't talk about it. Not really. Everyone here's pretending they're okay. That they're used to being forgotten."
Rin didn't answer.
Sam let the silence hang for a beat. Then:
"Don't look for your mystery savior too hard, Rin."
"What do you mean?"
"Just be better next time. Don't make him show up again."
Rin sat with that for a moment, then lay back down slowly, turning to face the wall. But before sleep took him, he whispered:
"…He moved like you."
Sam closed his eyes.
Didn't answer.
And the dorm returned to silence—quiet, heavy, and still. But not the same.
Because somewhere in the cracks of Dorm Nullis, a fire had started.
And maybe—just maybe—someone had finally seen it.
But somewhere in City A, in a pit that thrived on shadows and pain, a new name was whispered.
Ash.
And he knew he'd return.
Not because he liked it.
But because it was the only place where no one cared about ranks, pasts, or fear.
Only survival.