The sand beneath my feet drinks my blood which flows like a river. The sight is mesmerizing. Or maybe I’m getting lightheaded from the blood loss. Either way, I’m fucked. The world around me goes back to normal as throbbing agony courses through my body. Razor blades are tearing me from the inside as I cough up blood, unable to process what’s happening.

The familiar pain of cracked ribs makes me shiver, and—Fabio isn’t moving. Shock has replaced his arrogance as he scowls at me with wide-open eyes. Why am I gripping his forearm? How? My stomach churns once I notice the blood-soaked blade poking out of my elbow.

“How?” the bastard mutters as he stares at my hand in disbelief. I’m also having trouble understanding what happened. How did I end up in this position? That shouldn’t be possible. I was standing up, then the world went hazy. Now I’m on one knee with a sword through my arm. Wait, what about the other one! Panic wells up in my chest when I realize, with not a small amount of horror, that the second sword is stuck in my thigh. My bones turn into lava as the metal scrape inside, but the weapon won’t move.

I spit another glob of dark red blood on Fabio, the fool is too stunned to react to the stain on his immaculate silvery armor. I have to seize the opportunity! I tighten my grip on the swordsman’s forearm, causing me to scream as the blade stuck in my arm slices me up even more. Fabio tries to loosen my grip, his waning strength doesn’t deter me as I put all my strength into bending Fabio’s elbow in the other direction. There’s resistance at first, but the joint gives out with a sickening snap.

My opponent’s bloodcurdling scream makes my ears ring as my lips curl up. Who cares about the blood loss? I got him! My Power roar as if to support me and something I have never heard before echoes. It stuns me for the briefest of moments.

There’s a turbo spooling up. I can hear it! How? I grit my teeth, now isn’t the time to ponder new mysteries. I tighten my fist as I punch the bastard in the jaw, putting all my remaining strength behind the strike. I was expecting a satisfying crunch. Instead, an ethereal grinding wheel appears above my hand, taking away a good chunk of Fabio’s jawbone before disappearing. I narrow my eyes, one of the bone shards almost blinded me!

I stare at my fist in disbelief, unable to process what the fuck happened. How can I—I did that, somehow? The gurgling sword-fighter panics as the serpents on his weapons come to life. With how close I am, these things will tear me apart! I pull out my pistol from my pocket dimension and empty the firearm into the young man’s stomach. Each shot makes me scream as it forces the blades deeper into my body and causes spikes of pain. I drop the gun once it’s empty, all strength leaves me as I cough another pint of blood. I might be exaggerating a little, but I never knew people could survive with so much blood out of their bodies.

With how lightheaded I am, I doubt they can for very long. Darkness creeps at the corners of my vision as I smile. Fabio’s gem is blinking red while mine is still green. A soft hand catches me as I fall to the ground along with an unconscious Fabio.

“Blood type is AB+!” an unknown voice shouts as many field nurses rush to my side. Now I understand why they asked for blood type of the registration form. Somebody shoves needles into my arms as the all too familiar feeling of a potent potion cocktail floods my senses. The icy liquid fills my veins as someone removes the rapiers from my body. It’s like they’re trying to rip me apart! I cough blood, but an IV bag refills my veins with the precious liquid. “Heart rate is stable!” the same voice echoes. “Proceeding with healing spells!” a gust of green wind washes over me, and the smell of mint invades my nostrils. I glance at the woman standing behind the old man. She chugs a vial of glowing blue liquid with a frown as sweat beads on her forehead.

My wounds close in a flash, so fast that I can hardly believe it. Even the best potion I ever used isn’t as effective. My mind clears as the pain turns into a tingling sensation, like when I put my arm in a weird position for too long. I gasp for air as I stand up. I’m dizzy and almost fall face first into the blood-soaked sand. Another gust of minty wind allows me to recover. That was way too close. I could have died!

The four people clad in white attires look at me with a hint of worry before relaxing once they confirm that I’m fine. “You should be good to go,” one of them explains as she pats me on the shoulder. My bones are somewhat sensitive, but I’ll manage. I can’t believe how fast my recovery went. I went from being at death’s door to being healthy in less than a minute.

High-end magical healing is incredible. I look around for Fabio, my curiosity getting the better of me. I spot a stretcher in the corner of my vision, his condition must have been more critical than mine. That bastard deserved it!

I pull out my vape, frowning at the scratch on the glass. Dammit! If only my pocket dimension wasn’t already full. Well, it isn’t broken at the very least. I inhale some cherry goodness, shuddering as the nicotine spreads into my sore body. The other contestants are all staring at me with wide-open eyes as I head for my seat; some of them look away when our gazes collide. My lips curl upward as I let myself fall onto my chair. The lingering effects of the elixirs are still helping me recover, so let’s rest for a little bit.

Meanwhile, the old man announces the next battle. He’s not a simple clerk, he’s unaffected by the display of brutality he witnessed. Most of the other exam takers still look at me with fear in their eyes. Are these people even Dungeon Runners? Seeing someone mangled to such an extent is an all too common sight in the Dungeons.

I exhale, my eyelids are heavy as I doze off for a few moments.

My eyes snap open, and I look at my phone. Did I miss anything important? Is it my turn already? My heart calms down once I notice that I rested for ten minutes, so I let myself relax as I focus on the current battle. An Asian woman in heavy military armor armed with an AR-15 fights a lanky man covered in darkness. The ammunition leaves behind a trail of blue light as it tears through the smoke like its paper. I raise an eyebrow, it looks like she’s using enchanted rounds. It’s an excellent choice against magical foes, but a poor one against anything wearing a modicum of armor.

Lead and steel are awful media for enchantments. On why, I have no clues. I didn’t take enchanting classes in high school. All I know is those common materials that are great for enchantments are terrible for bullets. The good ones are difficult to work with, coupled with the small size of a bullet means that engraving anything is very tough. It’s no wonder that enchanted ammo is hard to find and has to be special-ordered.

The battle ends after a volley knocks the man out of his cloud of shadows. His gem blinks red as he kicks the ground.

“Fuck!” he shouts as he leaves the area.

In any other circumstances, her performance would be impressive. But I tuned out when the man lost. Instead, I stare at my hand sporting a new scar where the sword entered my body. How the fuck did I do that? And how did that grinding wheel appear out of thin air? And what about the turbo spooling up I heard at the end of the fight?

I open and close my hand as if the gesture contained some grand revelation. I only end up looking like an idiot. Did Industrial Revolution change? I scratch the back of my head and let out a sigh. Power Users have reported that their Power sometimes evolved. Either after a long and arduous battle or after they absorbed a tremendous amount of Mana in one go.

The battle against Fabio was hard, but I wouldn’t qualify it as dangerous. I was never in real danger. I’m in way worse situations during my Dungeon Runs, yet nothing of the sort happened. Maybe it’s the Mana? I shake my head, that doesn’t make any sense either. The Mana in the Academy is thicker than normal, but it can’t hold a candle to even the crappiest of Dungeons.

That leaves me with—with nothing. I have no clue what I did, or how to replicate it. What happened between the moment when Fabio’s sword was at my throat and when it ended up in my arm? I can’t visualize how that’s possible. It would have required me to spin and twist my body so fast that my bones would have fractured. Hell, even a very agile Runner would hesitate before committing to such a maneuver.

I then recall my broken ribs. Maybe, and it’s a wild hypothesis, but whatever I did might be why my bones broke. That sounds far-fetched. I wouldn’t be so—so damaged. Pulling back my sleeve reveals the scars, each of them a permanent reminder of my errors.

People sometimes delude themselves and think they can be good enough. That they can succeed if they persist. I have hundreds of proofs etched into my flesh that I’m not good enough. I know, deep down, that I’m a failure. But—but something tells me to keep going, to keep struggling against impossible odds. How many times have I been in a Dungeon, with broken bones and a claw embedded into my guts? It happened way too many times to count. I’m not cut out to be a Runner. It’s obvious to anyone.

I grit my teeth and pull up my sleeves before filling my lungs with cherry smoke.

This isn’t the time for introspection. Perhaps once I avenge her, but—I made it here. Somehow. I won’t let this opportunity go to waste. I harden my gaze as I focus on the arena as another battle reaches its conclusion quickly. Most of the fights end in less than a second, and it will only become harder from here. Still, the fire within me won’t die down. I’m certain that I’ve spent more time doing real Runs in Dungeons than all the other idiots combined. My experience forged in flesh and blood gives me an edge. Their reactions and their way to fight shows that they aren’t used to the grim reality of being a Runner.

There’s a reason why all experienced Runners act distant from regular people. There are only so many friends a person can lose before it breaks something inside them. These people are soft, not used to true loss. I bet the only loss they experienced was when they dropped their new phone.

I close my eyes and shake my head. Following these trains of thought never lead to anything good, so I’d better focus back on the exam. There’s only one round left, and I brace myself. The competition doesn’t look that exceptional, but I should be wary of hidden trump cards. As cliché as it sounds, I expect everyone to pull a secret weapon out of their sleeve for the last round. I would follow suit if I had anything like that, but it’s just me and my imaginary machines. The evolution of my Power might come in handy, but it could also be a fluke. It could also all be a hallucination cooked up by my then blood-deprived brain.

Either way, the conclusion draws near.