NOVPUBThe Nexus Arena thrummed with electric anticipation, thousands of spectators packed into tiered seating that encircled the massive combat zone. Holographic displays hovering above the energy-enclosed ring showed statistics and profiles of the two finalists while combat replays from earlier rounds flickered across secondary screens.
But despite the imminent battle, one name dominated the conversations rippling through the crowd.
"—did you see Eclipse's Reawakening?"
"—SSS-ranked at eighteen—"
"—crushed a third-gen awakened like she was nothing—"
"—haven't seen power like that since Commander Owen—"
In the premium student section, Sophie Reign anxiously checked her communicator for the fifth time in as many minutes, her usual composure cracking.
"He should have been here by now," she muttered, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "My father's meetings never last this long."
Beside her, Kelvin fiddled with a small drone perched on his palm. "Maybe they're giving him some special SSS-ranked orientation? Secret handshakes and stuff?"
Lucas's brow furrowed as he scanned the entrances. "I don't like it. Those security officers weren't taking him to the ministerial suites."
"What do you mean?" Sophie asked sharply, turning toward him.
Before Lucas could respond, the arena lights dimmed, and a deafening roar erupted as spotlights converged on the announcer's platform.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" The announcer's voice boomed through the arena. "WELCOME TO THE SECOND-YEAR DIVISION FINALS!"
The crowd's cheers crescendoed as the announcer continued: "REPRESENTING THE SEVENTH ACADEMY, WITH CONSECUTIVE VICTORIES AND ZERO DEFEATS THIS SEASON—ARIA VULCAN!"
From the eastern entrance, a girl with flame-red hair strode confidently into the arena. She'd obviously dyed it that colour. Final theatrics.
Her combat suit was sleek black with red accents that seemed to shimmer like embers with each movement. She raised one hand, and a coil of what appeared to be liquid fire spiraled up her arm before dissipating into the air, drawing appreciative gasps from the audience.
"AND HER OPPONENT—FROM THE THIRD ACADEMY, THE UNDEFEATED MARCUS STEEL!"
The western entrance opened to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered young man in a gunmetal gray combat suit. As he walked, the metal floor panels of the arena rippled in his wake, creating a wave-like effect that followed his steps. When he reached his position, he slammed one foot down, causing several metallic spears to erupt from the ground around him before smoothly retracting.
Sophie clutched her armrest, momentarily distracted from her worry. "Third-generation awakened, both of them. This is going to be incredible."
Lucas nodded, his trained eye assessing both combatants. "Steel's defensive capabilities are top-tier, but Vulcan's heat generation might be enough to counter."
The energy barrier surrounding the combat zone hummed to life, its translucent blue surface forming a perfect dome over the arena.
"COMBATANTS READY!" the announcer called.
Aria shifted into a low stance, amber eyes narrowing as flames began to dance along her fingertips.
Marcus widened his stance, the metal plates of his combat suit rippling as micro-adjustments aligned them perfectly with his movements.
"BEGIN!"
Aria struck first, launching forward with explosive speed. Her right hand trailed a comet-tail of fire as she closed the distance in a heartbeat. Marcus crossed his forearms, and metallic plates erupted from his combat suit, forming a shield just as Aria's flame-engulfed fist connected.
The impact sent a shockwave across the arena, the energy barrier rippling from the force. Marcus slid backward ten meters, his metal shield glowing orange from the heat but holding firm.
"That temperature's approaching 3000 degrees," Kelvin whispered, his augmented vision analyzing the battle. "Steel's melting point is around 1500."
As if confirming his assessment, Marcus's shield began to drip molten metal. With a grunt, he thrust both palms forward, and the liquified metal shot toward Aria like a spray of mercury bullets.
Aria laughed, the sound fierce and exhilarated. She spun gracefully, her body becoming a tornado of flame that vaporized the metal projectiles before they could reach her. When she stopped, the floor around her had melted into a glowing pool.
"Is that the best the Iron Sovereign can offer?" she taunted, flames now burning so hot they appeared white at their core.
Marcus smirked, dropping to one knee and plunging both hands into the arena floor. "Just getting warmed up, Vulcan."
The entire arena floor rippled like water, and suddenly metal spikes erupted in a concentric wave rushing toward Aria. She leapt high, flames propelling her above the deadly forest of spears, but Marcus was anticipating this. With a sharp gesture, the spikes curved upward, following her trajectory.
Aria's eyes widened momentarily before she contorted mid-air, her body becoming a streak of flame that weaved between the metal spikes. She landed on one of the larger spikes, her feet instantly melting through it.
The crowd roared its approval as the combatants reset, circling each other warily.
"Where the hell is Noah?" Sophie whispered, her concern returning despite the spectacle before them. "He wouldn't miss this."
Lucas frowned, his instincts screaming that something was very wrong. "We need to—"
His words were cut short as the battle below reached new intensity. Marcus had summoned what appeared to be a suit of metallic armor around his body, each plate hovering centimeters from his skin, while Aria's flames had condensed into a swirling vortex around her form.
They clashed at the center of the arena, metal meeting flame in a collision that sent shockwaves through the energy barrier. The crowd fell momentarily silent as the barrier visibly strained, its blue surface rippling with stress patterns.
Aria's flames had turned blue-white, so hot they appeared almost liquid as they sliced through Marcus's metal constructs. But for each piece she melted, he reformed two more, drawing from the very arena floor which was now pockmarked with holes.
Marcus suddenly clapped his hands together, and metal strips shot out, wrapping around Aria's wrists and ankles. She snarled, her temperature spiking so high that the air around her began to waver and distort.
"Those restraints are neo-titanium," Kelvin observed, leaning forward. "Melting point over 3000 degrees."
But Aria wasn't trying to melt them. Instead, she channeled her flames inward, her skin beginning to glow as though molten metal flowed beneath it. The restraints turned white-hot but held—until she suddenly expanded her flame aura in an explosive burst.
The restraints shattered, and Marcus was thrown backward, his armor partially melted. He crashed into the energy barrier, which flared brilliantly at the impact.
Before he could recover, Aria was on him, her hand transformed into what appeared to be liquid fire itself. She thrust forward, aiming for his chest—
Only to stop millimeters short as Marcus's hand shot up, a blade of solid metal extending from his palm to rest against her throat.
A perfect stalemate.
The crowd erupted into thunderous applause as both combatants held their positions, neither willing to concede despite the mutual killing position.
"EXTRAORDINARY!" the announcer bellowed. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS WHAT PEAK THIRD-GENERATION COMBAT LOOKS LIKE!"
Sophie barely registered the spectacle, her attention now completely diverted to her communicator. "My father isn't answering either," she whispered. "Something's definitely wrong."
Below them, the battle had resumed with renewed ferocity. Aria had transformed both arms into whips of liquid flame that cut through the air with crackling precision. Marcus had responded by creating a swarm of floating metal shards that orbited him like a deadly metallic hurricane.
Each clash sent shockwaves across the arena, the energy barrier fluctuating under the strain. The crowd was on its feet, captivated by the display of raw power and technical mastery.
But in the premium section, three friends shared a growing sense of dread.
"We need to find Noah," Lucas decided, rising from his seat. "Now."
****
The elevator doors slid open, revealing a stark white room that stretched in all directions, its clinical brightness nearly blinding after the dimness of the corridor. Noah stepped out cautiously, Eclipse Blade still gripped tightly in his hand, its darkness was contrasting heavily against the overwhelming whiteness.
The elevator doors closed behind him with a soft hiss, then seamlessly merged with the wall, leaving no trace of an exit.
Noah surveyed the room, measuring approximately thirty meters square, with seamless walls that offered no hint of doors or windows. The silence was absolute, oppressive in its completeness.
Then, without warning, one wall flickered to life, transforming into a massive display. A little blonde girl appeared on screen, perhaps three or four years old, wearing a simple white shift. Noah's breath caught in his throat.
"Lila?" he whispered, recognizing the blonde instantly.
The camera zoomed in slightly, revealing a small tag affixed to her garment: "001."
Noah's pulse quickened as he watched the tiny Lila walking barefoot across a room identical to the one he now stood in. Her movements were oddly mechanical, her gaze fixed straight ahead as she approached another small figure sitting on the floor, back turned to the camera.
The seated child had the same blonde hair, the same small frame. Lila approached from behind, her expression unnervingly blank. With disturbing deliberation, little Lila reached out, placing both hands on either side of the seated child's head.
"No," Noah breathed, already anticipating what would come next.
With strength no toddler should possess, Lila twisted sharply. The crack was audible even through the recording. The seated child slumped forward, head lolling at an impossible angle.
As the body collapsed to the floor, the camera panned around, revealing the victim's face. Noah's stomach lurched.
It was Lila. The same face, the same hair, the same tag marked "001."
Noah took an involuntary step backward, then another, until his back hit the wall where the elevator had been. His fingers scrabbled against the smooth surface, finding no seam, no panel, no escape.
"What the hell is this?" he demanded of the empty room, his voice echoing.
As if in response, a section of the wall to his right slid open, revealing what appeared to be a glass enclosure. Inside stood a small figure with her back turned to him—blonde hair cascading down a white hospital gown.
Noah approached cautiously, Eclipse Blade held defensively before him. "Lila?" he called softly. "Lila, is that you?"
The figure spun around, her face lighting up with recognition and relief.
"Noah!" she exclaimed, rushing to the glass. "How did you find me? I knew someone would come!" Her small hands pressed against the transparent barrier separating them. "You have to hurry! My parents—they're still going through with it. My sister is up there, but she's not real. Nothing is real anymore."
Noah's mind raced. He'd fought someone—something—wearing Lila's face in the finals. He'd known then that it wasn't really the blonde psycho as kelvin would call her, at least not the one he knew. But this—this seemed real. Her eyes held that spark of intelligence, that hint of mischief he recognized.
"Step back from the glass," he instructed, raising his blade. "I'm going to get you out of there."
His fingers tightened around the hilt as he summoned his power.
[Null Strike activated]
The dark energy began to gather around the blade's edge, a harbinger of destruction that could cleave through virtually any material.
But as he prepared to strike, his gaze fell to the small tag affixed to her hospital gown: "001."
Identical to the one in the video.
Noah hesitated, energy still crackling around his blade.
A mechanical hiss drew his attention as panels began opening across every wall of the white room. From these openings emerged figures—all blonde, all small, all in identical white gowns.
Ten. Fifty. A hundred. Two hundred and more.
Some were perfect replicas of Lila Rowe down to the last freckle. Others were horrific approximations: half-formed creatures with unequal limbs, bodies that seemed to have been assembled incorrectly. One had hands protruding from where ears should be; another's torso was studded with misplaced eyes. Some crawled on mismatched limbs while others dragged malformed appendages behind them.
And then absurdly, there were those with no physical discrepancies to the real Lila.
All wore tags marked "001."
All called out to him with the same voice.
"Noah! Help me!"
"I'm the real one!"
"Please, they're hurting me!"
"Take me to Sophie!"
Panic clawed at Noah's throat as he spun in place, surrounded by this grotesque assembly. When his eyes darted back to the glass enclosure, it was empty—the Lila who had spoken to him now indistinguishable among the crowd of duplicates surrounding him.
They pressed closer, a sea of identical faces and twisted aberrations, their pleas melding into a cacophony of desperation. Noah gripped the Eclipse Blade with white knuckles, its dark energy pulsing in response to his distress.
The army of Lilas reached for him with perfect and malformed hands alike, each wearing that same damning tag: "001."
