The train to Crimson Halo cut through the wastelands like a spear of thunder—levitating inches above rusted tracks, its core pulsing with ion-blue light. Arin sat alone in his compartment, eyes fixed on the horizon as the shattered skyline of Terros crawled by.
Ruined cities. Scorched forests. Beasts grazing on fallen towers.
Terros was healing. But some wounds ran too deep.
He pressed his hand against his chest, feeling the locket pulse gently beneath his tunic. Rika had slipped a wrapped bundle into his bag that morning—his mother's favorite tea, dried petals, and a photo of her holding him as a baby.
"Remember who you are," she had said.
He hadn't spoken a word in return.
Arrival
Crimson Halo wasn't a school. It was a fortress.
Blacksteel walls rose around a mountain valley like the ribs of some ancient colossus. Watchtowers lined the perimeter, each guarded by elite cultivators with spirit-linked rifles and armored beasts. A single gate opened as the train hissed to a stop.
Students spilled out—some clad in robes etched with clan sigils, others in sleek street armor and scavenged tech. A few arrived in floating sedans or with family entourages.
Arin walked alone.
Whispers followed him. Not because they knew who he was—but because they didn't.
"No clan sigil…"
"He's too quiet."
"Look at his eyes… like he's seen a beast rip his soul out."
He ignored them all.
The Assessment
Inside the orientation dome, hundreds of new students stood beneath the glowing crest of Crimson Halo: a twin-ringed sun, half cracked, half burning.
A voice boomed across the dome. "First-years. Before you are placed into cohorts, you must endure The Ember Trial."
Gasps. A few groans.
A tall, powerfully built woman stepped onto the central platform. Her armor shimmered with shifting circuitry, and her right arm was clearly synthetic—sleek, chromed, with carved runes glowing faintly.
"I am Instructor Vale Marra. Former Warden of Bastion 7. If you're soft, spoiled, or stupid, turn around. The Ember Trial has no mercy."
One student—a boy with emerald hair and a gold-plated chestguard—snorted. "Another scare tactic. Please."
She tossed him a dagger. "Use it."
He blinked. "What—"
Before he finished, a shadow burst from the platform—a simian-shaped spirit beast with obsidian fur and molten eyes.
The dagger flew from the boy's trembling hands before he could even scream. The beast stopped inches from his face.
Instructor Vale raised a hand. The creature vanished like smoke.
"Lesson one: power doesn't care who your daddy is."
A murmur of nervous laughter rippled through the crowd.
Ember Trial: Begin
That evening, they were dropped into the forest just outside the academy walls. The rules were simple:
Survive until dawn.
No weapons unless summoned or scavenged.
No deaths. (In theory.)
Fail, and you return home. Branded unworthy.
Arin walked into the darkness with only his pendant, a pulse in his chest, and the memory of his mother's last breath.
He didn't see the eyes watching him from the trees.
Elsewhere in the Forest
Two figures moved silently through the brush.
Lyra Vance—a red-haired girl with an eyepatch and twin daggers strapped to her thighs. Fast. Sharp. Suspicious of everyone.
Beside her, Tovin Drex—tall, quiet, wrapped in a ragged cloak, always reading from a glowing, rune-marked tablet.
They were hunting. Not beasts. But potential allies—or threats.
"You saw that black-haired kid?" Lyra said. "The one who didn't flinch during the summon?"
"The one with the blank stare?" Tovin nodded. "He's not normal."
"No clan tag. No aura signature."
"Which makes him either weak… or dangerous."
Midnight Convergence
Arin moved toward the heart of the forest, drawn by the humming in his chest. The pendant pulsed like it was leading him.
Then—noise.
Branches snapped. A beast charged—a four-legged lizard with glowing veins and jagged jaws: a Voltax Hound. Rare. Aggressive.
Arin froze. The beast lunged.
The pendant flared.
Instinct took over.
His hand snapped out, and the locket extended into a shimmering chain of metal—whip-like, flowing with energy. It wrapped around the beast's leg mid-leap, slammed it into a tree, then retracted instantly.
Silence.
Arin stared at his own hands. "What…?"
Before he could react, he heard another sound—clapping.
Lyra stepped into the clearing. "Well, well. Looks like the quiet kid's got claws."
Tovin followed. "And the pendant… it's pre-Collapse. You shouldn't have that."
Arin backed away. "Stay back."
"Relax," Lyra said. "We're not here to fight. We're here to survive."
She grinned.
"And maybe—form the most dangerous cohort Crimson Halo has ever seen."