Trial of the White Seed – A Court Without Shadows

The chamber closed behind him.

Metal screamed and hissed as the great vault doors of Facility 7-B sealed with magnetic clamps. Raghav stood alone beneath pale, ghost-light illumination. No sound. No warmth. Even the air felt filtered—sanitized.

The sealed chamber of the White Racket hovered before him in a vertical stasis tube, surrounded by faintly spinning relic rings. Their movements were hypnotic, like the hands of a clock ticking down.

Then a voice—not physical, not psychic, but resonant—filled the air.

> "The Devourer takes. The White Racket reveals."

Raghav's heart pounded. The air vibrated.

The ground shimmered, and then—

The court formed.

Not of concrete or dust—but of memory.

The runes beneath him weren't real. They were mental impressions, carved from the fragments of every relic Raghav had devoured since his journey began. The court was colorless, formless, but every step echoed with truth.

And across from him—

Three figures emerged from the white mist.

He knew them all.

The First Ghost – Varun, the Phantom Striker

The boy he beat at the Southern Trials. The one whose relic—a flash-speed footwork system—he'd absorbed without realizing.

Varun stepped onto the court with dead eyes. His form flickered like static, barely real.

> "You didn't even hesitate," he whispered.

"You wanted my speed, not my struggle."

The phantom charged.

And Raghav moved.

Not with anger. Not with instinct.

But with understanding.

He didn't fight to defeat Varun—he moved with him. Let the ghost's form dictate rhythm, let the memory speak. He dodged, mirrored, and then gently disarmed the figment with a controlled rally.

Varun froze.

Then smiled—faint, forgiving.

He dispersed into light.

The Second Ghost – Nira, the Chain Weaver

A strategist. A quiet girl from the Sub-Edge Academy. She'd wielded a relic that wrapped her opponent's abilities into reactive counters. Raghav had overwhelmed her, and the Devourer had consumed her chain-weave logic core.

Now she stood with eyes burning silver.

> "You saw my court as a puzzle to break.

But I built it to survive."

She launched a barrage of tethered shots, mental traps that forced Raghav into defensive patterns. He stumbled, caught in loops of hesitation.

But then—he shifted.

Instead of resisting her traps, he unraveled them—acknowledging the pattern, then choosing when not to respond.

The court shook.

The chains fell.

And Nira bowed before vanishing into air.

The Third Ghost – Kaveen

This one didn't speak.

He just stood across the net, tall and still. Not the broken man from the dark facility—but the young prodigy he once was, bearing the Devourer at its most raw and radiant.

When they clashed, the court itself bled with relic pressure.

This was no illusion. This was a test.

Kaveen's shadow tried to consume Raghav's mind with the memory of power. Tempting him with what could be unlocked if he stopped resisting.

> "You can be unstoppable," the voice inside hissed.

"You've tasted what I offered him. Why not go further?"

Raghav stood his ground.

His breath even.

His heartbeat aligned with the court's pulse.

Then—he did something strange.

He lowered his racket.

"I'm not here to conquer. Not anymore."

The entire memory shook violently. Runes cracked. The Devourer pulsed angrily.

And the Kaveen echo dissolved, screaming in frustration as its grip was severed.

The Core Awakens

The court began to collapse inward. Light flooded the arena, blinding and clean.

The White Racket's chamber hissed and cracked. Not violently. Elegantly.

Its containment field flickered off—and the relic drifted down like a falling feather, hovering before Raghav.

He stared at it.

Pure white handle.

Silver strings woven from mirrored filaments.

Not hungry.

Not possessive.

Just… balanced.

A voice spoke, neither male nor female:

> "You have walked the path of the devourer.

Now walk the path of discernment."

> [RELIC BALANCE UNLOCKED: BINARY ALIGNMENT]

[White Racket – Not Claimed. Harmonization Trial Incomplete.]

Raghav reached for it.

But it didn't let him touch it—yet.

Instead, a symbol burned into his palm: a stylized "X" between two mirrored rackets.

Exit and Revelation

When Raghav stepped out of Facility 7-B, his eyes burned with clarity.

Behind him, the White Racket resealed itself in its chamber—but not as an enemy.

As an invitation.

He now bore a fragment of its code.

And he now knew: the Devourer was not the only apex relic.

Balance was possible.

But balance had enemies.

Far away, in the depths of the Hidden Court, a council gathered around a flickering vision of him. One member, wearing the Mark of the Null Seed, whispered:

> "Two relics awaken.

He must not align them both."

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