The first-years tore across the open field, breath ragged and hearts pounding.

“You wanna do it?” Shino asked casually, glancing at the red-haired girl beside him. Her smirk widened as she hovered her finger over a large red button.

“Oh, definitely,” Asuka grinned—and pressed it. With a mechanical hiss, massive pendulums suddenly dropped from above, swinging violently across the field. One slammed into a girl and boy mid-sprint, sending them flying backward in opposite directions like rag dolls. Screams echoed as chaos broke loose.

“What the hell—?!” a boy gasped—just before the next pendulum knocked him straight off his feet. “Aaah!”

The pendulums varied in speed and angle—some swung low and fast like sweeping legs, others slow and wide with enough force to crack ribs. All had reinforced metal tips that sliced through the air with a whistle like giant blades. Then came the voice over the loudspeaker, cheerful and unapologetic.

“Ahem. Welcome to the Pendulum Gauntlet,” Shino announced smoothly. “This is a subsection of the obstacle phase testing your physical agility and decision-making under pressure. Objective: cross the field without getting knocked out. Injuries? That’s on you.”

“What?!” a student shouted, narrowly dodging a pendulum by diving to the ground.

“Also,” Shino continued, “if your fitness band flashes red, you’re either eliminated or too slow. That means disqualified. You’ve got 60 seconds to get through. And then, well—new surprises drop in.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” the same student screamed as another pendulum narrowly missed his head. While panic spread like wildfire, Aoi charged forward unfazed, weaving through the chaos with sharp footwork and calm eyes, as if the swinging death traps were just another gym drill. She sprints forward, dodging a pendulum by diving into a roll, then flips over another using a low vault. Her movements are precise, flowing like water.

Left, low swing. Right—double swing. Hold, now pivot— She slides under a spinning pendulum, barely missing a metal spike.

“Nice,” she mutters, springing back to her feet. From behind the chaos, Ayane smirked, crouching low before springing forward, timing her leap perfectly between two massive pendulums. Her brown hair streamed behind her like a banner as she landed, sharp eyes tracking the swings.

Can’t let her outrun me, she thought, her smirk deepening as her pace quickened. Not far off, beside the observation tower, Jin stood with Misora, both watching as the examinees scattered—some already sprawled across the field from early wipeouts.

Knew they weren’t ready for this much heat, Jin mused with a sheepish grin, a single bead of sweat trickling down his temple. His gaze locked onto the action, but lingered on a particular runner.

“Your sister’s got some serious moves,” he commented, eyes narrowing slightly as he tracked Ayane dodging effortlessly. Misora didn’t respond immediately. Her eyes stayed on Ayane, watching her sister’s graceful movements through the gauntlet. There was no change in her expression, but something steady and quiet, flickered in her gaze. Pride.

“I’ve watched anime for this moment. Channeling my inner ninja!” A male first-year says as he tries to run, but slams headfirst into the very first pendulum.

Thud!!

“I’m okay—” WHAM! The second pendulum knocks him into a safety net.

“HA! Pendulums? I bench more than these!” A girl boasts as she grabs one mid-swing and tries to ride it across.

“FOR GLOR—AAAAAAAA!” It slams her into the next one like a bowling pin.

“Oof…” the proctors groaned.

“That’s gonna hurt,” one of them muttered.                                                                 

Raito and his friends carved their own path through the chaos, weaving through the pendulums with sharp reflexes and instinctive coordination, while other students scrambled to find their footing. Mei walks forward slowly, palms behind her back. Timing her steps with perfect rhythm, never flinching.

“How’s she doing that?!” A fellow female examinee shrieked, her eyes wide in shock.

A boy leaped over one, ducking under another, “ALRIGHT BABY LET’S G—” BOOM!! He gets launched sky-high and lands in a bush.“...Still alive!” he gives a thumbs up. The second phase of the endurance trial kicked in without warning—heavy sandbags rained from above, some arcing like projectiles, others slamming straight down into the path of the students.

Shino’s eyes tracked the field, unblinking. “Sixty… fifty-seven… forty…” he muttered under his breath, watching as more students were flung aside or crumpled mid-run. “…thirty-nine… thirty-six… thirty-three…”

Another pendulum swept through the crowd, knocking three students off their feet. “…thirty.”

Aoi reached the final set—two massive pendulums swinging in crisscross fashion. She takes a breath, her eyes focused. Suddenly, someone from behind screams, “MOVE! I CAN’T STOP!”

A panicked student barrels toward her, tripping and pushing Aoi forward just as the pendulums clash—but she plants her feet, grabs the student, pivots, and uses her weight to toss her safely past the gate. She then leaps through the final pendulums in a blur, landing cleanly on the other side, dust swirling around her. A loud buzzer blared across the field, signaling the end of the exam.

………………

“We made it…” Ayane exhaled, placing one hand on her hip while wiping sweat from her brow with the back of the other. Around her, a scattering of students slumped in exhaustion—some doubled over with hands on their knees, others sprawled in the grass or groaning in the bushes. Beside her, Aoi stood upright, breath steady but sharp as her eyes scanned the field.

Not many left… she noted silently.

“You were incredible back there, Aoi! Seriously, you were like—whoosh!” Ayane gushed, throwing her fists up near her chest in admiration.

“Tch. That was just a warm-up,” Aoi replied coolly, flicking some dust off her sleeve.

“Only twenty-seven candidates remaining…” Shino murmured from the tower, arms folded as he surveyed the survivors. Beside him, Asuka rose to her feet, a grin spreading across her face.

“We’ve got some real contenders this year,” she chuckled, eyes settling on Aoi. Her mind flashed back to the moment Aoi had caught a student mid-air, breaking the impact. Even in a solo test… she still stepped in.

Not far away, Raito and his friends stood catching their breath, sweat trailing down their faces.

“Well… we made it,” Rikuya huffed with a crooked grin, one eye shut as he leaned over, hands braced on his knees.

“Barely,” Mitsuru added, wiping his brow and standing tall again.

Raito remained silent, steadying his breath as his eyes found Aoi across the field—still standing, still composed, with Ayane bubbling beside her. His gaze lingered. His brow furrowed slightly. 

Rikuya shot him a side glance. “Something wrong?” Raito didn’t respond. He simply looked away. The loudspeakers crackled to life again, followed by Asuka’s ever-cheerful voice.

“Congrats to those of you still standing! You’ve cleared the first phase. Up next—the second stage. It’ll take place back at the training area. So… start heading back!”

A collective groan rose from the field.

“Seriously? No break?” a boy whimpered, cartoonish tears streaming down his face as he dragged his feet.

“I can’t feel my legs…” a girl muttered, half-limping alongside another survivor. Aoi let out a steady breath as she turned around, already falling into step. Ayane, still full of energy, skipped beside her with a grin.

“Next up—the second stage!” she said brightly.

“Yeah,” Aoi replied, her gaze forward, calm but focused. The Tactical Combat Challenge… she thought, already shifting into a mental gear most hadn’t caught up to yet.