The arena's system flared again—sharp blue glyphs spiraling across the stadium's holo-panels like rising thunder.
————
🎙️ "ALL LARGE SKY-Class Aerial Beast Contestants — report immediately to Sky Stadium Gate Seven. All airborne combatants will begin stage prep in sixty seconds. Repeat: Large Sky-Class Aerial Beast Users, Gate Seven. Countdown initiated."
———-
The shift was instant.
Several figures peeled off from the main crowd—fewer than a dozen, but each one carried the pressure of a falling sky. Their movements weren't rushed, but the air bent around them, like an invisible storm front sweeping through.
Jin Minhe's eyes tracked them. "There they go. The monsters no one wanted to face during the Final 7."
Fan Yumei followed his gaze, picking out three immediately.
Qin Yuyan moved like gliding frost, already halfway to the gate. Her nano-threaded white-and-silver uniform shimmered with atmospheric runes, each breath leaving a faint trail of mist. It was like the air itself bent to her authority.
Su Cheng strolled without urgency, hands buried in the long pockets of a dark coat. No uniform. Just a jade flute clipped lazily at his side and wind-tossed hair that didn't seem to obey gravity. His eyes didn't dart or scan—they simply watched, as if studying actors on a stage.
And Tian Rou…
Her battlewear burned crimson and scorched black, every step hissing softly against the arena's reinforced plates. Steam rose behind her like heatwaves. She didn't just walk—she radiated kinetic pressure.
Jin crossed his arms, voice dropping a level. "Most of them didn't enter the human bracket. Beast specialists. Or maybe the faculty kept them back so the rest of us didn't get erased in Round One."
Yumei's eyes narrowed. "Held back?"
"Or held themselves back," Jin muttered. "Doesn't matter now. They're moving—and from here, things get messy."
Above them, hovering lazily in her boulder-sized form, Mystic let out a low, knowing trill. It vibrated through the metal struts of the arena and drew glances from nearby students. Even she felt it—that something had shifted in the balance of the battlefield.
And then it happened.
The storm-cloud beast that had been curled up like a backpack beside Fan Yumei shimmered again. Golden-white skin, once smooth and quiet, pulsed with sudden intensity. She nuzzled Yumei's hand like a soft plushie… and then—
Fwoom.
A surge passed through Mystic's form, and through Yumei's link with her. She felt the growth before she saw it—Qi pulling, storm-threads unraveling into sky arcs.
Only… the clouds and lightning and thunder sounded flickered wildly across Mystic's body, and the symbols along her back stretched wide like burning runes. The air around them thickened and swirled until Yumei's eyes went wide in disbelief.
Mystic wasn't just back to normal.
She was enormous.
At least twice her previous size—her form now rivaled a full sky whale, drifting like a myth reborn. Storms arced from her fins, and the FS-drones hovering nearby recalibrated just to keep a safe tracking distance.
Yumei blinked, stunned.
"You… grew again?" Her voice wavered between awe and exhausted resignation.
Mystic answered with a low, almost guilty rumble, and curled toward her lightly, arcs of storm Qi flickering apologetically.
Yumei pressed a hand to her forehead, brushing back damp bangs. "Twice your last size… Mystic, you're going to bankrupt me if you keep this up."
Her thoughts spiraled—images of cracked facility roofs, emergency containment alarms, half a semester's worth of damage debt.
And then relief flickered in her expression.
"At least this time it's outside," she muttered. "No buildings crushed. No reports filed."
But the concern lingered.
Her voice dipped low. "Still… I need to visit Master Sun soon. His villa's close enough, and if this is another mutation-phase or core boundary break—"
She trailed off.
He'd told her to come the moment Mystic's Hatched. That was days ago.
Mystic blinked, golden light flickering again with a sheepish trill.
"Let's go. Whale-sized or not. Just don't outgrow the atmosphere before we get clearance."
Mystic hovered just above the launch pad, her body humming with golden-white thunder. Wisps of storm cloud trailed from her belly like drifting silk, charged with latent qi.
As always, she lowered her clouds specifically for Fan Yumei, forming a gentle, solid staircase of condensed light and storm—crafted for her alone.
Fan Yumei stepped up without hesitation, boots landing on the warm, humming surface. The clouds rippled under her weight, adjusting to her presence, familiar and alive. It was a gesture Mystic never failed to repeat—one that felt more like a silent pact than a routine.
Jin Minhe was already on mystic prepping his panda with a half-eaten energy fruit when voices called out from below.
"Yo—Fan Yumei!"
She paused mid-step.
Turning, she spotted Zhou Qian, Min Zhao, and Liang Chenwu jogging up from a side corridor, a bit out of breath.
"You're heading up to the Sky Stadium, right?" Zhou asked, hands on her hips. "Can we… tag along?"
Liang Chenwu gave a subtle nod. "We want to get to the viewing deck early. Avoid the nosebleeds."
Min Zhao was more blunt: "Mystic's the only one here with first-class transportation."
Fan Yumei raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want to ride with me who beat all three of you?"
Zhou grinned. "That's exactly why. Can't miss the encore."
Fan Yumei shrugged as a sure go ahead.
Mystic's fins flicked once.
Golden mist condensed into wide, floating steps, anchored just enough to let the three students step on. Then, with a subtle flex of her fins, Mystic lifted them upward in one smooth, spiraling motion—like an ethereal escalator rising through clouds..
Zhou stood wide-eyed as they ascended. "This… is unfairly cool."
Min Zhao just gaped. "Why does it feel like we're riding royalty?"
Mystic shimmered slightly in amusement, and as they reached the top, she folded the stair-cloud inward like retracting silk, sliding the mist back into her body.
The trio stepped onto her back smoothly, hair wind-tousled, expressions half-grinning and half-awestruck.
"You didn't even ask her," Jin Minhe said, watching the scene with a bemused look.
"She knew," Fan Yumei replied, arms crossed. "She likes a dramatic entrance."
Min Zhao finally spoke again. "You know we're all going to remember this more than our own matches, right?"
Zhou laughed. "Speak for yourself. I still have trauma from Fan yumei tossing me off a platform mid-dodge."
Liang Chenwu crossed his arms, pretending not to be impressed. "I'm still not calling her a goddess."
"She doesn't need you to," Zhou said, smirking. "Mystic clearly already knows she is."
Mystic gave a sharp, steady arc. When they arrived, the platform folded seamlessly back into her form.
Jin Minhe watched from the side. "I feed my panda, train him, nurture his talent… and he still can't make stairs."
Fan Yumei looked back down at him. "That's because Mystic's not a pet. She's a Mysterious Being that decided to walk beside me."
"Dramatic," Jin muttered. "But True she is a Mysterious being ."
Below, heads turned as a storm-whale ascended with five riders aboard, streaking toward the glowing beacon of the floating stadium.
"Character-building," Fan Yumei said flatly.
Jin snorted. "Borderline abuse."
Mystic gave a light twitch of her tail—like a proud beast enjoying the applause—and launched upward.
⸻
🌌 Floating Platform – Gate Seven Upper Deck
Above them, the floating battlefield unveiled itself in layers—
tiered runic rings, each calibrated with qi-dampeners, elemental boundary shields, and hovering observation drones.
As Mystic glided in, the FS-system lit up again:
🎙️ "Sky-Class Launch Deck arrival confirmed. Mystic: Mythic-Class. Rider: Fan Yumei. Spectator Group: Jin minhe Zhou Qian, Liang Chenwu, Min Zhao. Sky Watch Stand 1 access granted."
Mystic touched down with a soft boom of compressed cloud-matter. Her passengers dismounted quickly, still trying to act normal despite what they'd just experienced.
"Thanks for the lift," Zhou Qian said, straightening her coat. "And the ego damage from earlier. Balanced out."
Liang Chenwu stepped down last and glanced back. "I'm just here to see how far you'll push it. Go all in."
Jin Minhe hopped down from Mystic's cloud-formed deck, boots landing with a soft pulse against the platform. He brushed off his jacket and looked up at Fan Yumei, hesitating.
"Good luck," he said—quiet, like it wasn't enough.
Fan Yumei raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"
Jin fidgeted, eyes flicking sideways. "…Yeah?"
She stepped closer. "Come on. You think of me like a sister, don't you?"
His ears turned pink. "What? N-no I—"
"You do," she said gently. "Just say it. I won't laugh."
Jin looked like he might explode on the spot. He clenched a fist, then loosened it. His lower lip wobbled. Then—
"…Good luck, big–little sister Yumei."
It tumbled out in one breath.
Silence.
Then—
"BIG–LITTLE SISTER?" Zhou Qian shrieked, stumbling sideways. "What are you, a nickname alchemist?!"
Min Zhao leaned on her, wheezing. "You just made up a whole family hierarchy!"
Even Liang Chenwu couldn't hide the small smirk that slipped through.
Jin Minhe's face turned crimson. "SHUT UP!"
Then, in a pure eight-year-old burst of frustration—he stomped his foot, hard, on the deck. Clang! His panda flinched beside him, startled.
Fan Yumei blinked, startled herself—then let out a low chuckle.
"You always were bad at titles."
"I wasn't— I mean— YOU MADE ME SAY IT!" Jin shouted, near tears.
She leaned down slightly, her voice soft. "And I'll carry it."
That shut him up. Just for a second. Then—
"I'M LEAVING NOW. FOREVER." He spun around and stomped again, the motion jerky and dramatic, his panda, Lufei and Maxius all scrambling to follow in confused loyalty. "THIS NEVER HAPPENED."
Zhou was on the floor by now, gasping. "We're putting this in the highlight reel—'Big–Little Brother Jin Minhe stomps into legend!'"
"I HATE ALL OF YOU!" Jin screamed, voice cracking, as he disappeared into the lift tunnel toward the spectator decks.
Fan Yumei watched him go, smile softening to something quieter.
Mystic's body shimmered beside her, letting out a low, understanding trill.
They both knew—that stomp wasn't just embarrassment.
It was grief.
It was memory.
And it was love.
Fan Yumei nodded once and turned to face the arena.
Time to honor all of it.
Mystic hovered beside her, lightning humming across her fins, ready for what came next.