[RANK-S]
The silence that followed seemed to cut through the air like a blade. The incandescent glow on the screen flickered once, twice—as if the system itself were trying to confirm the impossible.
Seth calmly removed his hand from the orb. His eyes showed neither surprise nor arrogance. Just the same icy calm that had accompanied him since he entered the room. For him, this was not an ascension. It was a confirmation.
The evaluator stared at the screen for a moment longer than necessary. Her fingers trembled over the arcane plate. By protocol, she was supposed to remain neutral. But her face betrayed a slight trace of disbelief.
"Rank-S..." she murmured, almost to herself. 'Provisional.'
Seth raised an eyebrow. 'Provisional?' he repeated, without changing his tone. It was a question, but it sounded more like a challenge.
One of the masked evaluators stepped forward, speaking through a voice enchantment that reverberated through Seth's mind with supernatural clarity.
"Potential Rank-S candidates must undergo a second stage of practical verification. A combat test under the direct observation of the Association's High Council. Standard procedure since the 'Vera Halstein' case."
Seth kept his gaze fixed on the orb, as if still analyzing his reactions.
"Omega Room?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"Omega Room. Today, three p.m. Three observers will be present." The evaluator paused. 'And a Reinforcement Auditor from the Continental Section.'
The name was not mentioned, but the information was clear: Seth was now a matter of global importance.
He nodded, saying nothing more. Then he turned and walked toward the exit, the eyes of the others still fixed on him. The other candidates in group 12-A watched him with mixed expressions: admiration, fear, envy. Some instinctively stepped back as he passed. Others simply averted their eyes.
As he walked through the door, he heard the evaluator regain her voice behind him:
"Next, please."
Back in the lobby, the silence was almost palpable. Seth reappeared like an unexpected shadow, everyone's eyes turning to him like magnets. The two teenagers, who had previously trembled at their own evaluations, now stared at him as if they had seen a dragon crossing the street.
The man in the tactical vest watched him closely. His eyes no longer contained kindness—only calculation. Measurement. Recognition.
"What was that...?" murmured one of the boys.
"Rank-S... He's one of them..." said the other, in a low voice.
Seth didn't stop. He walked right past everyone, like a force that didn't belong there — and everyone knew it. He no longer needed the line. Nor approval.
As he walked away from the Alpha Room, a single phrase cut through his thoughts, cold and objective:
"They set something up for me..."
The shadow behind him seemed to move subtly, rippling like living smoke. Bastet, crouched like a feline presence in the depths of darkness, whispered in his mind:
"They definitely set it up. That... wasn't what Connie said."
Seth frowned slightly, without slowing his pace.
"Exactly. According to her, I should be released immediately. Then the leader of the Association would contact me tomorrow... in person. She would try to recruit me to the Hunters with all that theatrical diplomacy."
He paused for a moment in front of a dark glass wall, watching his own distorted reflection.
"But instead... they sent me straight to the Omega Room?"
The silence that followed was not empty—it was full of suspicion.
Bastet retreated slightly into her shadow, her invisible eyes fixed on the rear.
"This smells like an inside job. Either someone got ahead of themselves... or someone was already waiting for you..."
Seth took a deep breath, tasting the metallic flavor of mana suspended in the air.
The Omega Room was located in the lower levels of the Association headquarters—below the archives, the detention chambers, and even the arcane security core. It was a place that rarely saw use. And when it did, it was never a good thing.
Seth descended the narrow corridors, guided by enchanted signs that glowed only when he approached. The mana there was denser, older. It was as if the building itself remembered what had happened in that basement—and was not happy to relive it.
At the end of a stone corridor studded with faded runes, a gray door awaited him. No name, no inscriptions. Just a symbol marked in the center: the seal of the Watchers. An eye divided by a blade.
Standing beside the entrance, a new Association employee waited for him.
She was different from the previous one. This woman was older, perhaps in her forties, with her hair tied back in a tight bun, round glasses on her nose, and features as rigid as concrete. The kind of person who seemed born to follow protocol — and punish those who didn't.
"Seth Chambers?" she asked, her voice as precise as a scalpel.
Seth nodded.
She typed something on her arcane tablet, and the door behind her released a magical click.
"Just go in. They're waiting for you." Her intonation was neutral, but her eyes did not hide the spark of curiosity.
Seth didn't answer. He just took one last look at the doorframe. Bastet whispered suspiciously in his mind, "This isn't a normal test room. The mana flow... is wrong."
"I know," he replied in thought, and then crossed the threshold.
The door closed behind him with a dull thud. Immediately, everything plunged into darkness.
It wasn't just the absence of light. It was a dense, almost tactile darkness. As if it had weight, texture, a will of its own. Seth stood still, his senses alert, his body relaxed but ready.
"This is a containment field," Bastet murmured, now more alert. 'But it's not preventing you from using mana. This is... pure observation. They want to see what you do in the dark.'
Seth smiled slightly.
"Then let's give them a show."
From the ceiling—invisible in the darkness—something began to move. A creaking of metal, followed by electrical crackles. Circular lights lit up around him, one by one, forming a ring of runes on the floor. In the center of the room, where Seth now stood, an obsidian platform rose slightly, like an altar.
And then, without warning, a second voice sounded. It did not come from a loudspeaker. It was as if it were projected directly into his mind.
"Seth Chambers. Provisional S-Classification confirmed. Initiating Omega Protocol. Practical threat assessment."
Three circles of light appeared at the edges of the room, revealing hooded silhouettes sitting on thrones suspended in the air. The Observers. And above them, a fourth presence manifested itself—shrouded in a distortion of mana that hid its true appearance.
The Auditor.
Bastet growled silently, in a tone Seth had rarely heard before: "That one is not human... or, at least, not completely."
From the center of the room, a crack began to open in the floor. Steam escaped through the fissures. The smell of sulfur and blood filled the air.
A neutral voice announced:
"Initiating combat simulation: Risk Level Rising Class. Lethality authorized. Good luck."
Seth looked at the floor opening up, then at the veil of mana that hid the Auditor.
"Do they want to test me... or eliminate me?"