After an intense session with Professor Malia, Vahn felt the weight of the past few days pressing down on him like a heavy cloak.
The lessons had been grueling, testing not just his physical abilities but his mental resilience.
Teleporting back to his dorm, he avoided the winding paths of the academy, wary of running into unwanted company. Jarred, the persistent thorn in his side, had finally left him alone, and Vahn welcomed the solitude.
The cracked, barren landscape of the training grounds lingered in his mind, but rest was a priority. His muscles ached, his mind buzzed with strategies and lessons, and tomorrow promised another challenge.
Collapsing onto his narrow dorm bed, he let the silence of the room wash over him, the faint hum of the academy's energy grid a soothing backdrop as he drifted into a fitful sleep.
The fifth and final day of the week dawned, a day unlike any other at the academy.
It was the only day students swapped their standard uniforms for military-style outing wear, a crisp, dark green jackets, reinforced trousers, and sturdy boots designed for action.
The air buzzed with anticipation, for this was the day of the selective fun activities, a break from the rigorous academic and combat training.
Each student had chosen an activity to focus on for the day, and Vahn, along with his friends Han and Carla, had opted for the Ball Game.
Stepping out of his dorm, Vahn blinked against the morning sun, only to find Han leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a grin splitting his face.
"Hey, man," Han called, his voice light but carrying an edge of excitement.
"Yeah," Vahn replied, then paused, his eyes narrowing.
"But who are they?" Han wasn't alone. Beside him stood Carla, her hair pulled back tightly, and behind her loomed a group of about twenty students, a mix of eager faces and curious stares.
Carla stepped forward, her expression sheepish but determined. "Han said you wanted to join this faction," she said, her was voice soft.
"Oh, yeah," Vahn muttered, his mind racing to recall any such conversation. He glanced at the group, his gaze landing on a tall girl at the front, her piercing blue eyes and confident stance marking her as the leader.
"Hey," he said, offering a small nod.
"Hi," she replied, her voice cool and measured.
"I'm Vahn."
"I'm Tasha."
Vahn turned back to Carla, who was now half-hiding behind Han, her cheeks tinged pink.
Han burst into laughter, a loud, unrestrained "Hahaha…ha" that echoed across the courtyard. The scene felt eerily familiar, a mirror of how Vahn had first met Carla, but before Vahn could call it out, Tasha turned, her blonde ponytail swinging, and beckoned the group. "Let's go."
The faction of over twenty students followed her as they marched toward the field.
Unlike the other days, when classes were split by year or skill level, the fifth day's activity united all students in one massive, chaotic event, a grand finale to the week that promised thrills and camaraderie.
The field, the same vast expanse where they'd been dropped off on their first day, had transformed.
White chalk lines crisscrossed the grass, marking zones and boundaries, while tiered sitting platforms ringed the perimeter, already half-filled with students. Military officials in crisp uniforms patrolled the edges.
Temporary stalls dotted the sidelines, offering refreshments filling the air with tempting aromas. Students milled about, some laughing, others shouting, the energy electric and uncontainable.
Vahn's faction claimed a section of the sitting platforms, settling in as a unit rather than scattering. The benches creaked under their weight, and soon the entire platform was packed, a sea of green uniforms buzzing with anticipation.
A man strode to the center of the field, his broad shoulders and commanding presence silencing the crowd. He raised a device to his mouth, and his voice boomed through the public address system.
"Hello, students, how are you doing?" he called, his tone warm yet authoritative.
"WAAAAAAA!" The students' response was deafening, a roar that shook the platforms, more akin to a gladiator arena than a school event.
"Yes, yes, I feel you too!" he chuckled. "I am your class Professor, Q, and I will be guiding you in this large class called Games. As you've guessed, this is a game that involves using your abilities. Now, we'll give you thirty minutes to read the rules sent to your phones and select ten representatives from each class to participate. Just to be clear, participation earns 50 silver, and the winning team gets 10 gold. Now, who's ready to play?"
"WAAAAAAAAAA!" The crowd erupted again, fists pumping, voices blending into a wild cacophony. Professor Q grinned, then stepped away, leaving the students to prepare.
"Are you playing?" Han asked, leaning toward Vahn, his eyes bright with excitement.
"No," Vahn replied, his tone firm.
"You?" Han nudged Carla, who shook her head, her gaze fixed on the field.
Vahn pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up with the rules of the Ball Game:
[Ball Game]
[Rules:]
[Ten participants must be selected from each class to participate in the game.
1. This ball game ONLY allows the use of legs and abilities to touch the ball.
2. The use of hands to touch the ball deducts points from one's team.
3. Scoring from a close proximity (Last mark) grants 0.5 points, Scoring from the defense proximity (Third mark) grants 1 point, Scoring from the attacking proximity (Second mark) grants 2 points, and Scoring from the Center proximity (First mark) grants 3 points.
4. No attacks to kill will be allowed.
5. If spotted, grave punishment is involved.
6. The game ends when the first team reaches 10 points or the winning team is determined after 30 minutes.
7. Substitution is not allowed.
8. Attacks that cause permanent injuries are not allowed.
9. Each team is allowed one timeout per game, lasting no more than two minutes, to strategize or regroup; misuse of the timeout for delay will result in a point deduction.
10. Abilities must be declared to the referee before the game begins; undisclosed abilities used during play will lead to immediate disqualification of the offending player and a point penalty for their team]
"Wow, they didn't describe the game, just gave us rules and expect us to follow," Han grumbled, scrolling through his phone with a frown.
"It's easy enough to understand," Vahn muttered, his eyes tracing the rules again.
Thirty minutes later, Professor Q's voice boomed again. "Well, I hope you understand the game and the rules. Now, the first match is Class 1-A against Class 1-E. Get ready, you have six minutes!"
The chosen players scrambled to the field, adjusting boots and stretching, their faces a mix of nerves and determination.
Vahn felt the energy shift, the crowd's excitement palpable.
"I'm going to get a drink," he said abruptly, standing and brushing past his group.
"Get one for me!" Han shouted after him.
"Alright."
"Me too…" Carla's soft voice surprised him, a rare break from her usual quiet.
"Uh, alright." Vahn nodded, weaving through the crowded platforms.
The stalls were a good distance away, and though teleporting would've been faster, academy rules forbade using abilities for convenience.
The walk gave him time to think, the noise of the crowd fading as he neared the stalls, the scent of citrus and grilled meat growing stronger.
His journey, however, was interrupted.
"Hey, you. We meet again," a familiar voice called, sharp and insistent.
Vahn's heart sank. 'Oh, fuck.' Approaching was the girl from yesterday, the one he'd teleported away from to avoid trouble. Her dark eyes locked onto him, her stride confident. 'Just my luck.'
"Yes," he nodded, feigning recognition, and turned to keep walking.
"Don't you know it's rude to walk away from someone?" she said, closing the distance.
"What do you want?" Vahn stopped, turning to face her, his expression hardening.
"I don't want anything. I just wanted to talk," she said, stopping a few meters away, her tone softer now.
"About?"
"Why did you leave yesterday? We could've just let you be," she asked, tilting her head, curiosity in her gaze.
"Seriously?" Vahn blinked, incredulous. "Because I wanted to."
"Did you lie about being in a faction?" she pressed.
"No." He turned to the stall, ordering three chilled fruit drinks, hoping to end the conversation.
"You know, I'm curious about you," she said after a pause, stepping closer to the stall.
"Please don't be." Vahn paid, grabbed the drinks, and teleported away in a flash, leaving her staring at empty space.
"Again…" She frowned, muttering, "So he can teleport… I'll find him again."
…
"What took so long?" Han asked as Vahn reappeared, handing him and Carla their drinks.
"Just some disturbance," Vahn replied, settling in to watch the game, now nearing its end.
On the field, Class 1-A led 7-3 against Class 1-E.
The ball, a glowing orb pulsing with energy, zipped between players, guided by kicks and bursts of ability, flames, gusts of wind, and shimmering barriers. "Pass the ball to Drake!" a Class 1-A player shouted, urgency in his voice.
"O-Okay!" The boy with the ball, flustered, kicked it hard. It arced toward the opponents, but mid-air, it veered sharply, a clever feint.
Drake, a lean figure with a cool confidence, caught it with his foot, snapped his fingers, and—BOOM—the ball rocketed forward, a blazing streak that dodged defenders.
"Fucking stop!" an opponent yelled, slamming his hands to the ground. A stone pillar erupted, but the ball punched through, splintering the rock.
"A GOAAAAALLLLLLL!" Professor Q's voice roared, matched by the crowd's thunderous
"WAAAAAAAAAA!"
Vahn's eyes widened, impressed by Drake's precision and power. The tension, the heat, the raw display of abilities, it was intoxicating.
"Oh, you like it now too," Han teased, his calm tone betrayed by trembling legs, his excitement uncontainable.
The game had shifted something in the air. Most students hid their abilities, guarding secrets, but this match,bits intensity, the clash of skills ignited a fire in the crowd.
Vahn felt it too, the pull of the game, the urge to join. But no. He shook his head, refocusing.