The plaza hummed with noise. Students walked about in their new uniforms, colors fresh, eyes wide, voices bubbling with excitement and nerves. The sky above Velmira shimmered with arcane patterns — the faint outline of the Arcane Array spread across like branches from a tree.
Zeke stood among the crowd, his hands tucked into his pockets. Around him, Kaito yawned theatrically, Tala adjusted her cuffs with quiet focus, and Rian elbowed his way through a group of talkative kids to rejoin them.
"Orientation, huh?" Kaito muttered. "Hopefully no speeches. I'm allergic to boredom."
Before anyone could respond, the light in the plaza fractured.
A sudden pull. Mana spiraled around them, a pressure in the air thick enough to steal breath.
And then — darkness.
They were no longer in the plaza.
They were seated in a massive stone amphitheater, open to the sky.
Tiered seats arced like crescent moons, filled with students. At the highest levels, teachers in formal robes watched silently. Scattered through the stands were upper-year students, many of them cloaked, symbols of rank embroidered into their collars. Their eyes held knowledge — and something harder to name.
The arena floor below was barren — a ring of silverstone with markings etched into the ground. Some magical, some old, no, Ancient.
"Where... what is this?" Tala whispered, her voice lost in the murmuring of hundreds of first-years.
A silence fell. Not naturally — but forcibly.
As if the air itself had gone still.
From the far end of the arena, the void opened — black as night, rippling with quiet tendrils of energy.
And from it... someone stepped through.
Like a celestial being stepping down into the mortal world. His cloak flowed behind him, woven from threads of starlight and shadow. His boots touched the arena floor with no sound.
He looked... human. Barely.
And when he raised his eyes to look across the amphitheater, the hundreds students shrank back, breathing caught in their throats.
Even Zeke felt his heart jolt. Something about the man's presence pushed down on his spine, made the world feel too narrow.
The figure raised his hand.
"Welcome."
One word — and it didn't come from just him. It echoed across the air in layers, like a choir speaking through one mouth. Male, female, old, young.
"You may have come expecting a ceremony. A cheerful speech. A song, perhaps."
He paused, and a smile made its way onto his almost perfect face.
"You're mistaken."
The crowd stirred uneasily. Someone near Zeke muttered, "What's going on?"
"We are at war."
The words hit like thunder.
Confused glances. Murmurs broke out like sparks across dry grass.
"War? With who?"
"Is this... some kind of test?"
"Did he say war?"
The voice continued, unfazed by the noise.
"You may have heard whispers of the Hollowed... corrupted beings who devour mana, soul, and self."
"What you don't know… is their goal."
He took a step forward. The arena seemed to dim, the sky itself paling behind him.
"They seek the fall of our kind. What they call... a cleansing."
Silence. This wasn't public knowledge. Rumors, sure. But not this.
Zeke clenched his fists. Something cold bloomed in his chest — not fear. Not yet. Just... The weight in his chest got a little heavier.
"Here at the Institutum Virtutes Arcanae, we do not train prodigies. We train survivors. Leaders. Warriors."
"And so, your first trial... will be this."
"You will be sent into the Wildlands. Survive for ten days."
A gasp ran through the crowd. The teachers standing on the side just as suprised.
Kaito stiffened beside Zeke. Tala's mouth parted in disbelief.
"You will not be alone," the speaker said, voice still rich with amusement. "Our instructors will monitor from afar. But we will not interfere."
He let the pause stretch — then added, with something like a smirk:
"Don't worry"
A bit of colour returned to the faces of the students, expecting the man to say something comforting.
"If you die, we will bring back your corpses."
A ripple of horror passed through the first-years.
"He's joking, right?" someone whispered behind Zeke.
The man chuckled.
It was not a kind sound.
"Let's begin."
The students paled.
Before the students could scream, move, or even breathe—
They vanished.