Arnao Veil rammed his fist into a potentials stomach repeatedly. The scum had struck him while he had been in the process of dispatching his companion, busting his lip. His burlier cousins held the insect in place as Arnao delivered his justice five knuckles at a time.

“You should know your place, independent trash,” Arnao said as he drove his fist into the guy's gut once more to emphasize his words.

He waved for Marco and Luca to get rid of the wretch as he wiped the blood off his lips. He looked down to assure no filth from the encounter had besmirched his clothing. The golden crane on his back and pristine white robes symbolizing that Arnao was a member of the Veil family. He had to look the part even in this situation.

To be chosen to come to NAA had been a great honor and something not easily won. Years of training and a brutally competitive environment were vital to keeping all the branches of the family strong. Arnao’s admittance had been assured regardless.

His father currently sat in the third seat of the families twelve elders. An ascendant of unbelievable power. Power and position that Arnao flexed liberally on his cousins to bully them into line. Not that he needed to. He was strong in his own right, but some power could only be given. A lesson his father had drilled into his mind.

He surveyed the situation of the fighting going on around him. They had lost three of their fighters at the very beginning leaving them with only seven left. Those useless members would most certainly die in the Agoge trial if they couldn’t hack it in this situation.

The Veil family had not been informed of this new addition to NAA’s curriculum. That was a rare thing, given that one of his uncles was a master. It must have been something decided on the fly, he figured. Nexus was infamous for its training methods and savagery. Something like this didn’t go outside Arnao’s expectations of what the staff had up their sleeves.

A golden-haired female stepped to his side, but Arnao didn’t look at her. A power play on his part. Anna was from a distant branch family, but her father was in the fifth seat on the elder's council. He was ambitious, and Arnao’s father had demanded that he keep her in her place. Part of him wanted to ignore his father’s demands, but the man had his ways of making people pay for disobeying his wishes.

Arnao had rallied his other Veil members when the surprise brawl began pushing them to secure this corner. He kept his eyes on the two corners where two more Nexus founding families had setup. Both had taken losses. Threlen, in their customary green robes, had six members left and was in the adjacent corner from this corner. The Luna family in their grey robes had taken the most losses with five left. They were taking up the corner opposite to their position.

The blonde female beside him spoke, “We should take Luna down. We have the numbers.”

Arnao didn’t reply to her. Not willing to acknowledge something that might be construed as being her idea. But he couldn’t help but agree with her assessment. The Luna was the prime target tactically. Their family was in good relations with Luna though. Hence, he was slightly hesitant to commit, which is why they hadn’t made a move so far. Hoping another faction would take them out, but it didn’t seem like that would happen.

He looked at Threlen. Their families were in direct conflict at the moment. A sound victory over them here would be a blow to their reputation and a boon for Veil. Something his father would surely reward him for.

Arnao caught a group of three females helping carry one male towards the door. The girls seemed to be in a panic, and two looked to be crying as they reached the arena's closed entrance. Pounding away at the massive wooden doors. Their pleading cries ignored by the uncaring masters.

Arnao chuckled darkly. The independents clearly didn’t know what they were in for. He watched as the Luna group made their move on the weaklings as they sprinted towards the independent garbage.

Waiting for them to be crushed, he caught Threlen also making their move against Luna.

“Perfect,” Arnao said as he rubbed his hands together. Turning to the side, he called out, “Listen up, everyone. I want two on the left and two on the right.”

He looked at Anna. He didn’t trust her. Arnao was confident that she would stab him in the back if the opportunity presented itself. Their last match had been a little too close for comfort.

“Anna, take the right. Luca and Marco, we are going into the center.” He put on a vicious smile and looked at everyone, “No mercy.”

Arnao moved through the injured potentials swiftly. His family spread out behind him. The screams of the Luna and Threlen pushing him to pump his legs faster. His body eager for the conflict.

Slowing down a few paces before he reached the Threlen’s backs, Luca and Marco shot past him. Their massive forms punching into the line of fighters like a smith's hammer to hot iron. Meaty fists slapping flesh as the brutes assaulted their prey.

Arnao, excited by the display, came in right behind his two cousins. His sucker punches impacting with anyone within his reach. He gave no thought to who he hit. Male and female alike struck without care—the battle more like a drunken tavern brawl than a coordinated strike by three elder families of Arcodawn.

He thought the whole affair crass and well below his station, but a more primal side of him reveled in the violence. The screams of his foes and the smell of iron driving him to swing all the harder. His fists pounding into flesh. Each contact filling him with a joy that very few things in his life could match—knowing that his family would be victorious today all the better. Something he had complete confidence in achieving. Their positioning in this battle too superior to think otherwise.

Arnao's vision went white, and he felt himself stumbling back. The ringing in his ears and wet fluid gushing down his mouth emphasizing the strike he just took. He touched his nose and winced. The pain began to bleed through his battle high as he felt the crooked thing.

Who the… Who broke my nose?

Luca screamed beside him. The man’s cries raising Arnao’s hackles. They cut off seconds later, and a thumping sound off to his left sent a chill up his spine.

Arnao attempted to look around, but his vision hadn’t cleared just yet. He shook his head in a pain-filled endeavor to gain his wits. He needed to get it together before he was blindsided again.

I will destroy whoever threw that lucky punch.

Wiping his watering eyes clear, his vision focused on Marco bent over. A woman with blue hair wearing rags kneeing the large brute in the head before he collapsed. As the man's big frame hit the ground, his line of sight opened to see Anna put a tiny waif of a girl with short black hair in a choke hold. The look on the girl's face confusing Arnao.

Why does she look so… excited?

The girl lost consciousness a few moments later. Remnants of a smile still on her face. The woman who had just taken down Marco moved towards Anna as the girl's limp form was released.

The women began trading blows in an impressive feat of martial prowess. The blue-haired woman caught Anna with an open hand slap to the ear that left her reeling to the side. The blonde's defense opened briefly, and the blue-haired woman, in what he assumed was beggar’s robes, demolished her. Raining down strike after strike of perfectly timed and executed blows. Not a single wasted movement that he could see. Anna couldn’t keep up with the onslaught. A final elbow strike to the jaw that made a crunching sound dropped the blonde's body like a cooked noodle.

Arnao had barely been able to follow with the encounter that had lasted seconds at most. It was a testament to Anna’s skill that she had held up even briefly.

Where did this woman come from?

A tanned black-haired woman in red and gold robes rushed the unknown potential. The black-haired woman seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place the face. The blue-haired woman turned at the last moment and flowed forward into the tanned woman's guard. She lashed out, landing a devastating blow to the black-haired woman’s diaphragm. The woman tried to take a breath after clearly getting the air knocked out of her. The blue-haired woman planted a fist in the girl's gut before kicking the tanned woman in the head putting her down.

The blue-haired beggar's facial expression never changed. Her actions that of someone taking out the trash or performing a task that required no effort. Her visage that of unyielding iron. Her eyes turned to him, and his stomach dropped.

Orbs of cold blue and burning gold devoured him. They lacked all empathy for life. His heart beat skipped then went into overdrive. The emptiness he felt while looking into them making him break out into a cold sweat. This woman was a killer.

Was his life in danger? Arnao wasn’t sure. The woman must be one of the family's assassins or maybe a sectarian organization. It was the most plausible explanation.

Who was she? How had she become so skilled? How had someone so skilled been hidden from the roster? He would need to talk to his father. If one of the families or another organization had sent in an assassin to the trials they would need to discover their purpose immediately.

The Luna and Threlen members who'd been disabled in one way or another moved away from the woman in fear. How many had she taken down? His gaze seeing too many moving away from her to be reasonably rationalized. Did she take out Luca as well?

She had probably been the one to break his nose. Why was he still standing here? Yes this monster had broken his nose. A disrespect of the Veil that could not go unanswered. The embers of rage burned through his veins at the thought flaring up his confidence once more.

He was one of the best fighters in this generation of the Veil family. A Veil prodigy. He could beat her. Arnao was sure of it.

“You broke my nose, you filth,” he moved into his fighting stance. “I’m going to soak the ground with your blood for disrespecting the Veil family.”

The woman ignored all his verbal jabs and kept walking towards him. Her every step making Arnao feel like he was watching a monstrous ocean wave he had no chance of escaping. He looked around and saw that they were the only ones left. This was it. The final battle to decide who took victory. Who was the best in all the class of new potentials.

His legs began to wobble. Her slow, inevitable gait adding to the pressure of the situation. Arnao couldn’t take her stare anymore. It was breaking something inside of him. They hadn’t even exchanged any blows, and he knew deep down inside that she would defeat him.

Only his father and the other elders made him feel so insignificant. Which was expected. Who wouldn’t feel that way in the presence of Ascendant power? But she wasn’t an Ascendant. She was just another potential. Untouched by any power. There was no doubt she was skilled but so was he. He could do this. The shaking weakness in his legs was just adrenaline. Yes, just the excitement of the fight. It certainly wasn't fear. The thoughts rang hollow in his mind.

His heart beat striking so hard inside his chest that he could feel it in his throat, a hitch in every breath he took. Hatred built in his heart. He wouldn’t let her do this to him. He wouldn’t allow this blue-haired freak to break him.

“NO!” Arnao screamed.

~~~~

Atom watched as broke nose screamed and rushed his pupil. Or was she his follower? Was fopiller a word he wondered. He wasn’t sure. He figured he had enough pull to make it one if he tried. He'd put it on the to-do list.

His new fopiller did her creepy walk towards the last contestant. He approved, a flair for the dramatic was always an important quality to display in public. Looking stylish was important after all. The poor boy had clearly lost his nerve but still decided to rush Layla.

She rushed forward at the last moment and deftly dodged the kid's frenzied strikes. Three seconds later and he was off to count sheep with an unnecessary and honestly showboating roundhouse kick.

Layla glared up at Atom. He met her animosity with enthusiastic clapping. The girl really needed to lighten up.

“I believe you gentleman owe me some credits.” Atom said. He heard grumbling from his new colleagues, and he chuckled.

Atom looked over at the masters. The man beside him, Master Lockheed, brushed back his brown mop of messy hair with a hand. “Brent, can you cover me. I didn’t bring my wrist unit.”

The man in question eyed Lockheed suspiciously before saying, “You still owe me from last week. Why don’t you ever have your wrist unit on you?”

Lockheed gave him a dismissive wave, “Ah get off it Brent. You know I hate carrying around those stupid gadgets. I don’t know why we decided to move over to that dumb system.”

The argument appeared to be one the men had been having for eons. The two were ridiculously old. According to his research, they been a part of the NAA staff for probably a thousand years before he was a twinkle in his mother's eye.

“That stupid system has been around for seven hundred years now Lock.” Master Brent sighed, punched a few things in the air over his wrist unit, and handed a small data chit to Atom.

Brent scratched his black and silver streaked beard. "Your disciple is skilled and strong. It's been quite some time since I've seen one as trained as her. Look there Lock, you can see the edges of a killing intent trying to manifest."

"Yes, I can see it. I'm starting to think we may have been scammed." Master Lockheed eye'd Atom.

"I told you, I took her to the peak." Atom replied back.

Master Lockheed looked down at the woman again, "Hmm, yes, you did warn us. I'm glad we were wrong. She will be a pleasure to teach. I hope you will be able to do the same for the other students. We have needed some fresh blood for a while now."

Atom cringed internally. He absolutely did not want to teach other students. Honestly he'd never had to teach anyone anything. Sure, his other Holders asked questions but he mostly just made stuff up or quoted some manga bs from his home world. The upper stages of power where mostly about an internal understanding of reality. It didn’t really matter what he said. They had to figure out what that meant on their own. Even his own grandfathers books teachings had been shaky at best on that subject.

Aside from Layla, all of his Holder had already stepped onto the path. How Layla had done it without anima was still a mystery although he had his suspicions.

Master Brent chuckled drawing Atom's attention. "That one despises you Neutron."

Atom didn't need to look to see the little blue warrior's expression. He could feel her anger from here. He laughed, "You have no idea."

Atom could see a wild excitement on the man's face. He kept stroking his beard as he looked down at Layla. "Good, as it should be. The weak are only fodder on the path. That fire of hers will serve her well. I hope to garner such respect from her in the future. It's not even aimed my way and it still makes me want to go down there and start training her." His toothy grin and the bouncing of his leg made it clear to Atom that the man was serious. It also confirmed why the old Ascendant had stayed so long at the Academy. He enjoyed being an instructor.

Brent and Lockheed could be trusted according to Dory's file. Their loyalty to the Council was vouched for by her. The reason why was unknown to Atom but Dory was a founding member of the Council.

A group of companions from this very world who had done things so unbelievable that even he had trouble wrapping his head around the stories. But yet the Frost and it's gaudy crystal dome stood. The Feed, allowing you to travel into thousands of planes in the blink of an eye worked perfectly. That alone something he still didn’t understand.

How did Shifting work? Superluminal motion shouldn’t be possible even based on the ridiculous advancements in science of the Ascendant planes. But it was something he knew how to do instinctually. He didn’t know how he did it, only that he could. One moment he was in one plane and the next he was across a universe with absolutely zero time lost. Only the frost took actual time to move through and made since by the laws of physics.

Atom sighed. He had to stop thinking about the subject. He’d be stuck in a loop for days again. Dory refused to explain it and the General only laughed at him anytime he asked. Saying she did not want to melt his brain with information he just wasn’t ready accept. He felt like a caveman at times when he thought about all that shouldn’t be possible yet were.

Needless to say Dory had been around since before his own plane even existed. That was enough for him to take her word on it.

Looking back down at Layla he couldn't help but feel proud of at her accomplishment. The smile on his face definitely wasn't because he was several hundred thousand credits richer at her expense.

~~~

Did that bastard set up this situation just to make some credits? I’m going to gut him.

Atom looked back down at her. She put her hand out, making a motion with her fingers to let him know that she expected a cut. There was no way she would allow him to profit off the misery the man seemed to have a knack for putting her through.

His face soured, and he made a covert one zero. She shook her head and made a five zero. Layla wanted half. The lazy dirtbag had done nothing but try to get her killed. She would take her cut.

Layla watched Atom grit his teeth in frustration. He shook his head in decline. She shrugged and nodded her head.

Layla mouthing that she understood and that it was fine. The universal sign that all women seem to have an innate talent for. A look that expressed that everything was actually not fine, they wouldn’t be understanding, and you would regret not agreeing later.

He sat up straight. Atom seemed to be familiar with the expression. His face growing concerned. She looked away from him. Ignoring his attempts to get her attention again.

Let him sweat.

The masters all stood up, and the spectators all quieted down. One of the master standing next to Atom stepped out from the pack. His gaze surveying the arena floor.

His face seemed pleased with what he saw. The expression did nothing positive for Layla’s mental survival estimations. If the NAA was like this from hour one, she couldn’t imagine the actual trials.

The ancient being that looked to be a few years older than her smiled down at Layla, “Congratulations Potential. You now hold the number one seat in this year’s class.” The masters all clapped. The sound ringing hollow in her ears.

“Enjoy the target.” He chuckled.

Layla looked up in confusion as the audience and masters all chuckled as well. When the meaning of his words sank into her battle scrambled mind, she almost threw up.

She had just taken the number one slot on the first day. Why had she not thought about the implications? It had happened too fast. Her only concern surviving. How was she supposed to know that they all were so… she didn’t know. Inexperienced, maybe.

Layla looked around as more than one perfectly uninjured potential stood up.

What the heck? Did they just… lay down instead of fighting? Why didn’t they say that was an option?

“Don’t look so glum child. The seats will be adjusted after the Agoge trial. As the number one seat, you have the right to ignore any challenge until after the trial. Although I would caution you to not ignore every single one. The results will be posted in the main hall later tonight.” the same master said.

The man snapped his finger, and individuals with white suits appeared and disappeared rapidly. Each time snagging an injured potential.

“Now for those of you not in need of healing. Please make your way out of the chamber and collect your things. Once all the potentials are healed, we will gather you up from the landing and your orientation day will continue. Welcome to Nexus Academy.” The masters gaze looked over the spectators then roared out, “Rise!” The crowd of spectators stomped once then boomed back, “Climb!” The master shook his head. “Nexus, your going to have to do better than that. RISE!” he shouted.

“CLIMB!” Layla felt their response rattle her bones this time.

The master, visibly excited at the improvement, called back, “PREVAIL!”

The arena shook again when the spectators stomps hit the ground. They all clapped two times simultaneously, then rocked the hall with the word, “ASCEND!”

A crazed, almost mad glee in the man's eye made Layla want to run away from the master. His expression promised pain and motivation. A combination she didn’t think would be healthy for her in the coming days.

The display both excited her and raised up concerns in her mind that she may be joining a cult. Layla thought about it but then decided she didn’t much care either way. She was here for power. The power to be free in this reality of monstrous beings. If she had to drink the mystery juice to get that, she would.