Alliances

The tension in the assembly hall had shifted. Whispers grew into quiet conversations, and sidelong glances turned into calculating stares. The realization was settling in—this wasn't a waiting game anymore. The trial had already begun.

Caius stood near the edge of the room, arms crossed, watching as small groups naturally began to form. It was unspoken but inevitable. Strength lay in numbers, and those who didn't act fast would be left vulnerable. He wasn't the only one who noticed it.

Luca, still crackling faintly with residual electricity from his Stormborn gift, leaned in. "Looks like people are catching on. No one wants to say it out loud, but they know. The moment we were given our powers, the trial started."

Caius nodded, his gaze drifting over the room. A group of three recruits had already clustered near one of the grand pillars. Another four whispered among themselves by the far wall. Then there were those who still hesitated, caught between caution and necessity.

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. "You two seem competent enough. If you're looking for a strong alliance, I might be inclined to join."

A tall, dark-haired girl with piercing gray eyes stood before them. She moved with a calculated grace, her expression unreadable. Caius recognized her from the earlier ceremony. She had been one of the last to receive her power—a gift from the House of Iron. Strength and resilience beyond normal limits.

Luca arched an eyebrow. "And what makes you think we're looking for allies?"

She smirked. "Because if you weren't, you'd already be deadweight."

Caius exchanged a look with Luca. They both knew the truth—going at it alone was a death sentence. After a brief pause, he extended a hand. "Caius. This is Luca. And you?"

She hesitated a moment before clasping his hand firmly. "Kyra."

A new group had formed.

As they spoke, more movement caught Caius' attention. Near the entrance, a small figure darted between the shadows. It was quick, barely noticeable, but the unsettling presence from earlier returned. He strained his eyes, trying to make out a face, but once again, reality seemed to twist around the figure. Whoever—or whatever—it was, it was watching.

His gaze flickered back to the inscription above the grand doors. "Trial will start soon… enough." He had dismissed it earlier as an odd phrasing, but now the words carried an ominous weight.

The trial had already started.

And not everyone in the room was playing fair.