It had been five days since Senko woke up in the infirmary, feet fractured from the power surge that nearly consumed him. In those quiet days, a single rumor had overtaken the academy like wildfire:
The SA Test was coming.
Then, the announcement was made.
Only three D-rank students would ascend to C-rank.
Now, the academy's grand battle arena was alive with noise. Students packed the stone bleachers, eyes locked on the ring where dreams would either be born—or crushed.
Senko stood just behind the crowd, feet still wrapped. He wouldn't be fighting—not yet. But even from here, he could feel the tension crackling in the air.
He wasn't the only one watching.High Eyes on the Trial
A line of students in refined armor stood in the shadow of the higher seats. Each of them bore different-colored cloaks signifying their rank.
C-ranks leaned against the railing, pointing, whispering, already placing bets on which D-ranks might break through.
B-ranks stood straighter, quiet, analyzing like predators eyeing potential prey—or threats.
Among them, a tall figure in deep crimson armor watched with arms crossed.
Arden, one of the three known A-ranks in the academy. Silent. Cold. The rumors said he could level a courtyard in under a minute with his aura alone.
A ripple of awe went through the arena as another figure stepped into view, hood pulled low.
Shinra of the Thunder Mark. One of the academy's S-ranks.
She said nothing. Did nothing. Just stood. Watched.
When the S-ranks showed up for a D-rank trial, it wasn't for fun.
It was to see who might become a threat.White Fangs Enter
Leon stepped up beside Senko. "SA Test starts now," he muttered, voice dry.
"You sure?" Senko asked.
"Nope. But I'm in it for you."
"You are."
Leon glanced at the crowd—at the stares, the whispers. "They think I'll lose fast because I'm White Fang."
"Then surprise them."Let the Blood Spill
The Masters stepped onto the high balcony—Hornstein, Korp, Tamado, Keen—and at the center, Headmaster Zeph.
"The SA Test begins now," Zeph's voice echoed across the stone.
"You will not be chosen by politics. Not by status. Not by blood. You will be chosen by what you earn."
Students froze.
"Only three will rise."
The crowd erupted.The Matches Begin
Korra Jafar walked toward the ring first, gold hair flowing behind her. The other houses leaned in. Royal blood. Trained. Sharp.
Luong cracked his neck and smiled, stepping onto the opposite platform. His red aura already flared faintly.
Ibaal stood alone, stone-faced.
"Son of Koya the Great," someone whispered from the crowd of B-ranks. "Let's see if blood really matters."
Senko watched from the back.
He wasn't the one in the ring.
But all eyes still felt drawn to him.Leon's Fight
Leon's name echoed, and groans filled the air.
"A White Fang? Just get it over with."
He stepped onto the stone platform, nerves barely held back. His opponent—a Spark Guardian with an electric orange aura—grinned.
It was ugly.
The fight wasn't pretty. Leon stumbled early, got cracked across the jaw. But he kept standing. One hit. Another. And another.
Still standing.
He didn't win.
But when the final bell rang, he wasn't down either.
The crowd was silent.
Even Arden of the A-ranks raised an eyebrow.
"Not bad," one C-rank muttered. "For a White Fang."
Senko smiled. "That's Leon."The Stirring Again
Suddenly, Senko's vision pulsed. His wrapped eye throbbed. The crowd shimmered—and for a moment, Leon's opponent was surrounded by shadows, twisted and monstrous.
The demon inside saw something.
And so did Senko.
Just for a breath.
Then it was gone.Other Matches
Korra's match? Precision. She dodged, struck, overwhelmed. Graceful violence.
Luong's? Chaotic. Laughing mid-fight. Red aura like wildfire. His opponent was nearly knocked off the platform.
Ibaal's? Over in a single strike.
Silence followed him back to the edge of the ring. The B-ranks didn't speak. Arden narrowed his eyes. Shinra, the S-rank, smiled faintly. Closing Moment
The sun dipped lower. The first day of the SA Test had begun—and the strongest in the academy were watching.
Senko stood in the shadows, eyes half-closed, demon stirring beneath the wrap.
Soon, he thought.
I'll be there too.
But even as the thought passed, he felt something else—something colder. Watching.Not just the crowd. Not just the Masters. Something higher.
Across the arena, atop the marble observation platform, Arden narrowed his eyes.
The A-rank warrior crossed his arms and turned slightly toward Shinra. "That White Fang kid. He's got more in him than people think."Shinra didn't respond. She just watched—expression unreadable beneath her hood, golden eyes steady like a storm barely held back.
"He doesn't know what he is yet," she said quietly.
Arden tilted his head. "And you do?"
Shinra smirked faintly. "The things that sleep too long forget how to whisper. But that boy? He's already hearing the scream."
Down below, Leon limped away from the arena's edge, jaw bruised and shoulder hanging stiff. His steps were uneven, but pride swelled in his chest. He looked toward Senko. Just once.
Senko nodded.
That was enough.
Behind the bleachers, Master Keen's eyes shimmered with purple light as he leaned closer to Hornstein. "We both felt it during Leon's match, didn't we?" he whispered.
"The pressure spike? Yeah," Hornstein said, arms folded. "Came from the crowd—him."
Master Tamado leaned in, his cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. "He didn't even fight and still turned heads. That shouldn't be possible."
Korp exhaled through his nose. "We're one slip away from the national government showing up on our doorstep. If he loses control during the SA Test…"
"He won't," Hornstein said firmly.
Tamado gave a dry chuckle. "You don't believe that."
"I have to."
Back on the battlefield, more matches unfolded. Screams. Dust. Aura-clashes that shimmered in mid-air like exploding stars. A duel between two D-ranks erupted with crimson and steel-blue energy—neither was anyone notable, but the crowd roared all the same.
Senko didn't notice. His eye pulsed again.
He gripped the edge of the stone pillar beside him as pain curled into his skull.
Let me out.
It wasn't a voice, not truly. More like a vibration beneath his thoughts.
He saw flashes—red sky, fire rising, bodies in shadow.
Let me out.
He squeezed his eye shut. Held his breath.
A single thought pushed through the chaos: Not yet.
The presence recoiled, momentarily silenced. But not gone.
From the other side of the arena, Arden's gaze locked onto him again.
"He's drowning," he murmured.
Shinra turned. "So were you once."
Arden said nothing.
Back below, Korra sat beneath the shade of the grand tree just off the ring's edge. Sweat clung to her brow, her breathing slow and focused. Her match had been flawless—but her fingers trembled slightly in her lap.
"He didn't even fight," she whispered, eyes drifting toward the boy in the shadows.
She didn't know his name.
But something about the way the other students avoided looking directly at him… how the Masters kept watching from above… how even the A- and S-ranks lingered—unnerved her.
"What are you?"
The final bell of the day rang.
Students began to exit the stands. Some laughed. Some limped. Some looked over their shoulders at Leon, at Korra, at Ibaal.
But Senko remained still.
Only when the crowd thinned did he step away from the wall and glance up—toward the S-ranks still on the platform.
Shinra hadn't moved.
And she was still watching him.
The wind blew across the arena, carrying dust and fallen leaves between them. A silent message passed between eyes that didn't blink.
Arden finally turned to leave. "He's going to be a problem."
"No," Shinra said.
"He's going to be something worse."
The sun dipped beyond the horizon, painting the academy in blood-orange light. The first day of the SA Test had ended.
But the real trial—the one buried under fear, fate, and flame—had just begun.
That night, the moon rose like an open wound over the academy. Clouds churned across the sky, slow and heavy, cloaking the stars. Wind howled between the dorms like a warning unheeded.
Senko sat on the balcony outside his room, back pressed to the cold stone wall, one leg still wrapped in bandages. The pain had dulled, but the weight of the day hadn't. He stared into the horizon where the training grounds had disappeared into the dark.
He could still feel it—the pressure of being watched. Not just by students or Masters. But by the elite. The ones at the top. The A-ranks. The S-ranks. Warriors so strong they seemed to blur the line between myth and man.
They were watching me…
He didn't like that. Not because of fear, but because it meant time was running short. He had always known there would be eyes on him eventually. But not yet. Not when he didn't even understand what stirred inside his own body.
Behind him, the door creaked open.
Leon hobbled out, still wincing from his earlier match. His left eye was swollen nearly shut, and his lip had been split, but he carried two steaming mugs of herbal tea like some awkward soldier returning from war.
He handed one to Senko and dropped beside him with a grunt.
"Still alive," Leon muttered.
Senko glanced at him. "You didn't have to do that."
Leon gave him a sidelong look. "I know I didn't. That's why I did it."
They sat in silence for a moment, the quiet stretching between them like old thread.
"I'm probably not making it to the next round," Leon said, voice low. "But people saw me try. For you. That means something."
Senko sipped the tea. Bitter. Earthy.
"It means everything."
Leon smiled faintly. "That's enough for me."
Elsewhere, within the towering Citadel Hall at the academy's peak, the Masters gathered beneath torchlight. The room smelled of old incense and parchment, and the walls were lined with relics from wars long forgotten.
Master Korp paced the room with stiff shoulders. "Shinra won't stay quiet long. If she senses what we suspect—"
"She already knows," Tamado interrupted, arms folded inside his robe sleeves. "Shinra's not just power. She's perception. If she keeps staring at Senko like that, the other S-ranks are going to notice too."
Hornstein leaned against the far pillar. "Then we buy time. The SA Trials will last several weeks. That's our window."
"To do what?" Korp snapped.
"To teach him control," Hornstein replied, "or at least hide what's inside him long enough to convince the outside world he's harmless."
Master Keen remained silent until now. He turned, voice soft but cold. "You know he's not harmless. None of you believe that."
Hornstein didn't argue.
He couldn't.
—
By the next morning, rumors spread like wildfire. Senko didn't need to hear them to know they were about him.
The stares.
The distance students gave him in the halls.
Some stepped aside in silence. Others whispered the moment he passed.
"He didn't even fight but the ground shook.""I heard his aura cracked the stones.""White Fang's cursed or something…"
Even Luong had grown quieter, not with fear—but anticipation.
"This SA Trial's gonna break the weak," Luong had said earlier that morning, stretching his arms behind his head with a grin. "And maybe wake up the monsters."
Senko wondered which one he was.
That day, the Trials continued. Korra fought again—fast and elegant, blades flowing like riverwater. Ibaal stood tall in his match, not even bothering to dodge some of the attacks thrown at him. When he won, he didn't celebrate. He simply turned, cloak fluttering, and walked off like it was destiny—not victory.
When it was Leon's turn again, he didn't win. But he lasted.
He endured.
Every hit he took, he got back up. Bloodied, bruised, cracked—but smiling.
From above, Arden watched again, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"White Fangs are stubborn," he muttered. "I'll give them that."
Beside him, Shinra didn't speak. She only turned her head slightly—back toward the place where Senko stood once more in the shadows.
Waiting.
Watching.
Not yet.
But soon.
To be continued…