Orientation at the Central Esper Academy was nothing like Greyson had imagined.

There were no simple introductions, no guided tours meant to ease nerves. 

Instead, the Academy began with truth.

Combat.

The arena was wide beneath the open sky, and a huge stone platform stood in the middle. Sigils could be seen etched into the walls and ground to reinforce barriers and suppress collateral damage. 

Students gathered along the edges.

Then, an amplified voice carried across the space.

“The Academy recognizes,” the announcer said, “that Resonance manifests in many forms. Not all are suited for combat, nor should all be forced into it. Those who declared themselves as non-combatants follow a different curriculum. Those who remain will be ranked through this exercise.”

Greyson was among them.

He stood quietly, outfit catching the light. And while physically composed, his thoughts kept drifting to that fleeting white scarf from the ceremony.

Then, a hand landed lightly on his shoulder.

Greyson blinked, pulled back to the present.

“Hey,” Wade said, voice carrying genuine concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

Greyson nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

The words came easily, but his expression didn’t quite match.

Wade studied him for a moment, then grinned, changing tactics. 

“You know,” he said, gesturing casually to Greyson’s shirt, “your choice of clothing is really bold. That satin gloss paired with your looks? I bet you’ve got admirers chasing you down the halls already.”

Greyson let out a small, awkward laugh. “I’ve… been wearing this material for a while.”

Before Wade could tease him further, the announcer’s voice cut back in.

“The Central Esper Academy exists to cultivate talents capable of defending our people from monsters… and, when necessary, other unprecedented threats.”

The crowd quieted.

“We acknowledge that many of you come from different cultures. Some of you from other countries. That diversity is respected here. But remember that Resonance is power. And power must be wielded with purpose, restraint, and cause.”

A pause.

“Today’s evaluation will be practical.”

A ripple of excitement moved through the students.

“You will engage in assigned one-on-one combat scenarios while simultaneously contending with a monster. Weapons are permitted. Resonance use is permitted. Victory is not the goal. Adaptability is.”

Murmurs swept the arena.

“Your ability to think, adjust, and survive is what we measure.”

Names began to appear across the arena’s holographic display.

The first pairing lit up.

Wade — vs — Lina

Wade exhaled slowly. 

“Well,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “not sure if this is luck or a terrible omen.”

Greyson smiled faintly. “Good luck.”

Wade gave him a quick nod and jogged toward the battlefield.

At the center of the arena, a feline monster was revealed, eyes glowing. Its leash strained as it snarled, claws carving lines into the stone.

Wade and Lina faced each other across the platform.

“Begin!” The word hit the air.

Wade moved instantly. His trident snapped into his grip, and the air around him responded. 

Moisture surged upward from the stone and air, gathering. The water turned boiling hot, then Wade slammed it onto the battlefield in a rolling wave.

The monster was released. It roared and charged into the scalding water. 

But… its hide did not blister. 

Steam clung to its frame as the monster burst forward, momentum unbroken.

Wade’s eyes widened for a second.

It’s not heat-sensitive.

He adjusted immediately.

But above him—

Lina had leapt. Her twin guns snapped in rapid succession, bullets shooting through the steam. They curved mid-flight, trajectories bending unnaturally as they homed in on Wade.

Wade did not panic.

The surrounding vapor condensed rapidly, converging in front of him just as the monster lunged and the bullets closed in. 

Liquid flash-froze into dense ice.

Crrrk—

The bullets struck and shattered against the frozen wall. 

The monster slammed into the ice with a loud impact, snarling.

Wade spun his trident, and the ice melted selectively. Sections liquefied and compressed, then fired out as water bullets.

The monster braced when hit, muscles coiling.

Lina tried to evade, but she wasn’t fast enough. 

A water round slammed into her wrist. One gun flew from her grasp, skidding across the arena floor. 

Before she could recover, Wade closed in fast. His trident hooked and twisted, snapping the second gun free without cutting skin.

Lina staggered back, defeated.

The monster roared again and charged.

Wade planted his feet, and the air thickened as traces of moisture converged again, wrapping around the beast in layers. Water closed in, pressure mounting, and the outer layers hardened into an unyielding shell.

It turned into a prison, fluid within, firm without.

“Well done,” the announcer declared. “Match over.”

The crowd erupted.

Cheers echoed through the arena, loud and unrestrained. 

Wade lifted one hand, waving awkwardly. Pride colored his smile even as he ducked his head, slowly making his way back to his seat.

Greyson applauded with the rest.

Water manipulation. Phase change. Ice.

But—

His eyes drifted, scanning the arena once more.

Not the same cold.

Not the quiet cold he had felt before.

Then—

The display shifted.

Greyson — vs — Bruno

A ripple of anticipation spread through the arena.

Wade leaned in as Greyson stepped forward, a grin tugging at his lips. 

“Alright,” he said lightly, “your turn. Think you can top that?”

Greyson smiled, small and polite. “I’ll try.”

He descended into the battlefield with measured steps. 

Across from him stood a broad-shouldered guy with an easy stance. He looked relaxed and confident, almost bored.

The monster chained at the end of the arena snorted heavily.

Whispers started rising.

“That’s him…”

“The Sword Saint’s son.”

Bruno sneered, his eyes narrowing. 

“Being the son of a legend doesn’t prove anything,” he said. “Only skill does.”

Greyson said nothing.

Bruno clicked his tongue. “Cat got your—”

“Begin!”

The word had barely left the announcer’s mouth.

Bruno’s hand twitched, just starting to reach for his weapon

But—

A palm strike landed.

It was so fast it didn’t even register as movement, so clean it barely disturbed the air.

Bruno vanished from where he stood and reappeared half a second later, slamming into the arena wall with a thunderous crack. The stone fractured, and his body slowly slid down, unconscious.

The crowd was stunned into silence.

The monster roared, just getting ready to charge. 

But it, too, froze in place.

Greyson was already there, holding one of his clockhand blades—the minute hand. Its silver edge rested precisely at the monster’s throat.

He did not attack, merely glaring, eyes filled with killing intent. 

The monster’s legs trembled, its breath hitched. Then, it collapsed, overwhelmed by pressure and fear alone.

Greyson withdrew the blade and slid it back into its sheath.

The arena still hadn’t recovered.

Even the announcer forgot to speak.

A second passed.

Then—

“W-Winner,” the announcer stammered, voice catching up to reality, “Greyson.”

The crowd exploded with cheers so violent that the space itself seemed to tremble. 

Wade stared, his smile twitching once, then twice.

“Was that really just trying?” he muttered to himself.

Greyson stood calmly, his eyes still subconsciously scanning the crowd.

And among the many pairs of eyes—

None stood out to him.