The halls of Aetherion Academy pulsed with subdued energy, the type that brewed under glass ceilings and manufactured skies. Everything about this place—from its pristine metal walkways to its whispering security drones—was designed with precision and purpose.
Kai Draven moved like he belonged to the silence. He kept to the edge of the academy's east wing, not out of avoidance, but instinct. Surveillance didn't catch what silence already knew.
He paused.
There, up ahead on a high, circular platform overlooking the energy core towers, someone was training. Alone.
Kai leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
A girl stood in the center of a self-made arena. Arcane glyphs hovered in the air around her, resonating with every movement. She guided flames with her fingertips, weaved threads of water through the air, and held static lightning like silk between her palms. Wind circled her like a dancer's ribbon, her feet barely touching the ground.
It wasn't flashy.
It was beautiful in the way a blade was—designed to cut with elegance.
Suddenly, her focus faltered. A swirl of compressed wind caught her balance, and the platform tilted at the edge. She teetered, mid-air spell flickering—
—and Kai was already there.
With a flicker of distortion, he gripped her wrist and shifted gravity just enough to pull her back to center. No magic. No flourish. Just pure, absolute control.
Their eyes locked.
Her breath caught. "…I had it."
"You were about to meet the floor."
She pulled away slightly, brushing her snow-silver hair behind one ear. "I was testing something."
Kai's eyes narrowed, calculating. "You were channeling seven elements."
"Eight," she corrected. "But Void is tricky."
That got his attention.
She noticed. "I'm Airi Tsukino."
"Kai Draven."
She tilted her head. "The one who melted a combat sim and got flagged by three instructors on his first day?"
"Rumors," he replied coolly. "Exaggerated."
"I'm sure," she smirked. "Wanna train?"
"I don't spar with people I just met."
"Then get to know me."
Later That Day – Lecture Hall
The classroom was more of a tactical dome—half lecture hall, half war bunker. Tiered seats surrounded a digital table that projected tactical Kaiju data in three-dimensional space.
Professor Kael Durnas paced slowly across the platform. His black coat swayed with weight, and his voice was gravel over steel.
"What you're about to see," he said, activating the display, "is not myth. It is not a ghost story. It's the reason every one of you exists."
The hologram flared to life.
A massive beast—twenty stories high—clawed its way through a smoldering metropolis. Its black-scaled hide shimmered with magma veins. Multiple eyes scanned the battlefield. Each footstep shattered concrete.
"Designation: Kaiju. Class Omega. Codename: Tyrant Hydra. Responsible for the eradication of New Kyoto. Seventy percent of our standing global forces couldn't even scratch it."
Gasps rippled through the class.
Kai stared in silence.
Durnas continued. "Kaiju are not random. They evolve. They adapt. They learn. Some now resist elemental damage. Some absorb energy. Others… twist your powers back on you."
He clicked through more horrifying models—spined leviathans, spectral giants, shadow-born horrors with glowing eyes.
"This Academy was founded under the Project Elite Directive—our answer to extinction. The world's final defense. Not to raise students… but to forge heroes. S-ranks. Awakened capable of confronting living cataclysms."
Silence. The weight of those words settled like ash.
Then, as the data flickered behind him, Durnas turned to face the class.
"Which brings us to the current roster," he said. "Only six of you are officially S-rank by initial evaluation."
A murmur started. People leaned in.
Durnas raised one hand, pointing directly toward the upper-left row. "Airi Tsukino. Elemental Affinity: All Primary + Advanced Types. Recorded channeling of eight simultaneous forces. Confirmed S-rank."
Dozens of heads turned.
Kai didn't move, but something in his eyes shifted. Just slightly.
She was holding back…
Airi gave no reaction. She didn't gloat. She simply crossed one leg over the other and looked ahead, composed.
For the first time in a long time, Kai Draven felt something unexpected:
Surprise.