By the time the sun had burned the mist from the academy's towers, the air was already thick with energy.
The second phase of the SA Trials had begun.
The Arena was louder than the day before. Students who'd passed their first fights stood sharper, more confident. Those who hadn't stood quieter, more afraid. And somewhere in between were those like Leon—bruised but burning with something deeper.
Senko watched from high up, sitting on a ledge above the main arena. His cloak rippled gently in the breeze. Below, a voice echoed across the grounds.
"Next match: Korra Jafar of the Dark Crimsons… vs. Elian Frost of the Wit Violets!"
The crowd leaned forward as the two students entered the ring.
Korra walked with her head high, gold hair tied back, her eyes sharp and focused. Elian smirked, spinning a thin staff in his hand with casual arrogance. The moment the bell rang, Korra exploded forward like a storm unleashed.
Her blade flashed like lightning. One strike, two, three—Elian blocked the first two, barely. The third grazed his cheek, and he staggered. She wasn't going for flair. She was going for blood.
Up in the viewing terrace, a C-rank student leaned toward Arden. "She's fast."
"She's sharp," Arden corrected. "But too clean. Someone like her hasn't fought to survive yet. She will."
Back in the ring, Korra disarmed Elian and kicked him across the arena floor. The match ended in under a minute.
She stood still for a moment afterward, chest rising and falling. She looked into the crowd, not smiling—searching. Her eyes paused on the figure in the shadows. The one who hadn't fought yet.
Senko.
But he was already gone.Later that day, the name that rang through the arena sent a wave through the crowd.
"Luong of the Spark Guardians vs. Kio of the White Fangs!"
A strange match. Students whispered.
Luong cracked his knuckles and stepped into the ring grinning. The boy he faced—Kio—looked nervous, but determined.
The fight was one-sided.
Luong didn't hold back.
His strikes were brutal, precise. His Hora burst out like flames along his arms—orange aura wrapped in thin threads of black. Leek Hora. C-rank technique. He shouldn't have been able to use that yet.
"He's close to awakening," Hornstein said from the stands, eyes narrowing. "Very close."
Luong ended it with a clean hit to the gut that sent Kio sprawling. But instead of leaving, he turned to the crowd.
"I want someone stronger next time," he said, smiling. "Someone with bite."
Again, his eyes flicked toward the shadows—toward where Senko would have been, had he not slipped away again.As the sun lowered, casting long gold lines over the stone walls of the academy, the final match of the day began.
"Ibaal of the Wit Violets vs. Tyren of the Spark Guardians!"
Ibaal stood tall, Violet cape fluttering behind him, one hand resting on the hilt of his longsword. Tyren approached with thick armor, his Hora aura already visible—stabilized, but flickering with fury.
From the first clash, it was clear.
Tyren fought like a hammer.
Ibaal fought like a god.
He didn't even draw his blade fully until the third exchange, where he finally spoke. "This is boring," he muttered—and then moved.
One clean arc.
One scream.
The crowd stood silent as Tyren dropped, unconscious before he hit the floor.
Ibaal walked away without looking back.
The son of the former Warrior King didn't care for applause.That night, word spread.
Senko hadn't fought once.
But somehow… everyone was more afraid of him than the ones in the arena.
In his dorm, Senko stared at his reflection. He slowly unwound the wrap around his right eye. The purple glow underneath was faint, but alive—pulsing. Hungry.
Why are you still asleep? he thought.What are you waiting for?
He blinked. In the reflection behind him—just for a second—he saw himself standing not in the dorm, but on scorched earth. His hands stained red. His mouth open in a silent scream.
He turned away.
Outside, the moon rose again—sharp, white, and full.
And somewhere far above, in the upper towers of the academy, Shinra watched from her solitary perch, her fingers tightening around the railing.
"He's not going to last much longer," she whispered to no one.
Arden stood beside her.
"I know."
His voice was quiet, but it carried weight—like steel wrapped in velvet. Shinra didn't respond right away. Her eyes were locked on the training yard far below, where students were slowly filtering out after the day's matches.
"Why did you come, Arden?" she asked at last.
"I came to see if the rumors were true."
She turned slightly. "And are they?"
Arden's gaze didn't waver. "They're worse."
For a moment, there was silence. Only the wind spoke—rattling the high banners of the academy towers. Crimson. Blue. Violet. White. All rippling together, like rival destinies fighting for air.
Shinra stepped away from the railing and walked toward the stairs.
"If he breaks in front of everyone, it's over. The government will sniff it out. The other S-ranks will come asking questions."
"We're already asking questions," Arden said.
Shinra paused. "And?"
"And I don't have answers yet. But I'll find them."
She gave him a long, unreadable look, then disappeared into the tower's shadows.
Arden stayed behind, watching the moon rise higher.
"There's something ancient in that boy," he whispered, just to himself. "Something angry."Elsewhere in the academy, Senko stood at the training field alone.
The grass was flattened from battle.
The torches were dying.
His right eye throbbed.
The demon stirred.
He could hear its voice now—not in words, but in pulses. Like something beneath the ocean floor, beating against its chains.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
He closed his eye tightly, wrapping it again with trembling fingers.
Not yet.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
He wouldn't lose control—not until he understood what he was fighting.
Behind him, someone approached.
"Thought I'd find you here," came Leon's voice, tired but warm.
Senko didn't turn. "How are you feeling ."
Leon scoffed. "Barely. I'm hanging by thread and spit, but I'm still standing. Korra's mad at you though."
Senko blinked. "Why?"
"You keep disappearing. You won't talk. Won't fight. She thinks you're being arrogant."
Senko let out a breath. "I'm not."
"I know," Leon said. "But it still feels that way to everyone else."
Finally, Senko looked over his shoulder. "And you?"
Leon shrugged. "You're my best friend, man. I don't care if you're a demon or a ghost. Just don't shut me out."
There was a long pause.
Then Senko nodded. "I won't."
Leon smiled. "Good. Now get some rest. Something tells me your name's gonna be called soon."
Senko watched him leave.
Then looked back toward the center of the empty arena.
He whispered into the wind.
"Let them come."
"Let them come."
The words didn't echo. They sank.
Into the soil, the wind, the very stone of the arena.
Something ancient stirred in the quiet.
Far above, clouds shifted. The moonlight sharpened. And for just a breath of a second, the shadows behind Senko seemed to stretch toward him, like fingers reaching from a door only he could see.
He felt it again—that pulse.
Boom.
Not fear.
Not power.
Hunger.
His right hand twitched. His breath hitched.
Then it passed.
The air returned to normal. The torches flickered, the breeze picked up, and somewhere in the distance, the bell tower chimed twice.
Midnight.
Senko turned away from the arena, footsteps light on the stone path, the weight in his chest growing heavier.
He didn't notice the two figures standing just outside the courtyard gates.
Arden and Shinra.
The S-rank and the ghost in thunder's skin.
"He felt us," Shinra said.
"No," Arden replied. "He felt something else."
Shinra didn't speak again. She only watched as Senko disappeared into the dark.
"Let them come," she whispered, repeating his words like a prophecy.
And in the night, thunder rolled far off over the eastern mountains.
But there were no clouds.
No lightning.
Just that single, low growl in the belly of the world—as if something old had turned in its sleep.
Down below, the academy grounds lay still. But the silence was deceptive. In every dorm, whispers were spreading. Some spoke of the announcement: the SA Test was no longer a rumor. It was happening. The trials that chose only three to rise.
Others talked about Ibaal—how he didn't even flinch when his name was read aloud.
Some murmured about Luong, who'd smiled at the announcement like it was a feast bell.
A few whispered about Korra Jafar, and the way her eyes glittered with ambition when the Masters called for volunteers.
But most of all, they whispered about the boy with the wrapped eye.
Senko Yuhira.
They didn't know what he was.
They only knew something was wrong.
One student swore he'd seen his shadow move on its own.
Another claimed they heard him muttering in a language no one understood.
Some said he'd gone mad. Others said he was cursed. But everyone—everyone—agreed on one thing.
There was something inside him.
Something waiting.Back in his room, Senko lay on his bed, staring at the wooden ceiling.
The wrap over his right eye felt tighter than usual.
Like it was resisting him.
Trying to come off.
"Not tonight," he muttered.
Not yet.
Not until he could face it without fear.
Across the room, Leon slept soundly, his snoring light and steady. Even in sleep, the corners of his mouth twitched upward—always the optimist.
Senko envied that.
He turned on his side and closed his eyes.
But sleep didn't come.
Instead, he dreamed without dreaming.
Of blood in the sky.
Of a burning crown.
Of six swords sinking into the heart of the earth.
And of a voice—deep and hollow—whispering his name through flames.
Senko…Elsewhere, beneath the academy in a chamber no student had ever seen, four Masters stood around a glowing orb of shifting purple light.
Master Hornstein's voice was gruff. "It's accelerating. The demon's heartbeat is syncing with the boy's."
Master Keen adjusted his robe, eyes narrowed. "It means the SA Test may provoke a partial awakening."
"Can we stop it?" asked Korp, his arms crossed.
Tamado answered, his tone quiet but clear. "We shouldn't."
They all turned to him.
"The boy needs to face it," Tamado continued. "Or it'll consume him when he least expects it."
Hornstein grunted. "And what if the national council learns he's hosting a sealed-class demon?"
"They won't," Keen said. "Not yet. We still have time."
"And if we don't?" Korp asked.
Then no one answered.Outside, a single crow flew over the moonlit campus, circling once before disappearing east.
Toward the mountains.
Toward the thunder.
To be continued…