Chapter song: CHALLAN - BewhY
The group made their way across the main quad, the cold wind brushing past as sunlight glinted off the towering glass buildings around them. The Mercury Building loomed ahead, sleek and imposing, its black-and-silver exterior reflecting the afternoon sky. It was a building reserved mostly for Third Division students, elites who were already well into their combat careers, but with the open event happening, the barriers were temporarily lifted. Anyone could enter.
"Damn," Yoosung whistled lowly as they approached the entrance. "I always forget how massive this place is."
"Of course it's massive," Andrei said, with a wry smile. "It's the Third Division. Everything about them screams 'superior.'"
Lennon chuckled under his breath while Fae elbowed him lightly. "It almost sounds like you're envious of them," she said through a grin.
"Of course I am. Everyone dreams of being part of the Third Division. That's when you get to be on the front lines."
Yoosung rolled his eyes. "Right, cause that's everyone's dream. Being directly in front of the danger and action."
Kenneth didn't say much, his eyes scanning the crowd ahead. Hundreds of students were already pouring inside—white, grey, and navy uniforms blending together like waves. The hum of chatter and anticipation filled the air.
Once they stepped inside, the sheer scale of the hall hit them. The space stretched wide, half the size of a stadium, lined with metallic bleachers and digital banners displaying match schedules. Every sound bounced off the high ceilings and glass panels that circled the upper balconies.
They pushed through the throngs of students until they reached the main training hall. Rows upon rows of spectators filled the benches, all facing the massive sparring ring at the center, a reinforced arena surrounded by energy barriers that shimmered faintly under the overhead lights.
"Looks like half the campus showed up," Andrei muttered as they squeezed past a few Second Division students in their light-grey jumpsuits.
"Not surprising," Lennon replied. "High-class Strikers are basically celebrities."
Kenneth glanced around and noticed familiar faces from their class scattered throughout the stands. Even Durian was here, sitting a few rows ahead. His hulking frame was hard to miss.
When Fae caught his eye, Durian's lips quirked into something that almost resembled a grin. Fae's eyes widened slightly, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing pink.
Kenneth noticed, but said nothing. For her sake, he pretended not to.
They managed to find five empty seats near the front beside a group of Second Division students and a few Third Division girls chatting animatedly. Kenneth sat in the aisle, Lennon and Fae next to him, while Yoosung and Andrei squeezed in at the end.
The chatter dimmed when a figure in a navy uniform stepped onto the platform, a Fourth Division student holding a digital slate. His voice echoed through the room, amplified by the hall's speakers.
"Welcome to the Mercury Spars, hosted by the Third Division!" he announced. "Today's exhibition match will feature two of our most skilled Strikers: Lucien Saint-James versus Alexandria Van Housen!"
A collective murmur swept through the crowd.
"Saint-James?!" someone gasped.
"Shit, they actually got him to spar?"
"Alexandria, too? Oh, this is gonna be good."
Kenneth straightened slightly, his attention sharpening.
Then, the two fighters entered.
Lucien emerged first from the left corridor, his presence alone enough to quiet the crowd. He was dressed in a sleek tactical uniform that clung to every sharp line and contour of his frame. His long, raven-black hair was tied back in a low ponytail, a few strands falling near his pale face. His blue-gray eyes looked almost ethereal under the lights, sweeping lazily over the audience before focusing on the ring.
His steps were unhurried yet purposeful, each one carrying quiet confidence.
From the opposite side, Alexandria Van Housen strode in. She was striking, tall, athletic, her orange hair braided into twin ropes that fell down her back. Her uniform fit snugly, emphasizing the strength in her arms and the curve of her frame. She had a confident smile plastered across her pretty face. She approached Lucien, placing a hand over his shoulder as they looked to be engaged in conversation.
"Oh my god, they'd make such a power couple," one girl whispered dreamily, clutching her friend's arm.
Another student rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Strikers don't date each other. They'd make such a chaotic couple."
A third girl snorted. "Still, Lucien Saint-James is one fine ride I'd like to get on. Shame we're incompatible."
The group turned toward her in disbelief. She only shrugged. "What? You're all thinking it."
They couldn't argue with that.
Kenneth, however, frowned slightly. For reasons that eluded him, he wasn't too happy to hear this. The young man didn't have the time to wonder why that was when the spar began.
There was a visible shift in the air. The energy around the two Strikers that had been lighthearted before suddenly became sharper, more dangerous. Every hair on Kenneht's body stood on end, and he wasn't the only one. Some of the students visibly paled as they watched two powerhouses go at it. This fight was unlike anything he'd ever seen.
The room fell into silence as the energy between the two combatants began to thrum, low and electric.
Alexandria was the first to move, her aura flaring bright emerald, swirling around her body like a living flame. The ground beneath her cracked from the sheer force of her launch as she dashed forward, faster than most could blink.
Lucien barely shifted. His light-blue aura pulsed once, cold and controlled. The next instant, he was gone from where he stood.
A sonic crack split the air as the two collided mid-ring. The shockwave rippled outward, rattling the barriers and earning startled gasps from the front rows. Alexandria threw a flurry of kicks and jabs, each one fast enough to leave green afterimages. Lucien met every blow, his arms moving in arcs that looked almost too casual.
"She's fast," Yoosung muttered under his breath.
"Yeah," Lennon replied, eyes narrowed. "But he's faster."
He was right.
Lucien slipped under her final punch, twisting his body in a clean motion that brought him behind her in a blur of motion. Alexandria barely had time to react before she vanished completely, her form shimmering out of sight. The sudden absence of her presence made the crowd murmur.
"Stealth?" Kenneth noted quietly, eyes narrowing.
Invisible or not, Lucien didn't flinch. His dark lashes lowered slightly, as if listening for something beyond sound itself. Then, without warning, his arm shot out, and his fingers closed around her throat mid-attack.
The crowd gasped as her form flickered back into view, caught midair. Lucien's grip was like forged steel, his blue aura coiling around his arm like smoke. Alexandria struggled, her legs kicking up once before she brought them together, then she struck.
With a sharp exhale, she swung her legs upward, locking them around his neck and twisting her body with perfect control. The move flipped both of them, sending Lucien crashing backward as she landed on top.
The audience erupted.
"THE WONDER WOMAN GRAPPLE!" someone shouted gleefully from the stands, followed by a chorus of whistles and cheers. "GET HIM, VAN HOUSEN!"
Kenneth barely registered the noise. His eyes were locked on Lucien, whose expression hadn't changed despite being forced down. Calm, focused, as if he were studying her.
He could tell by the angle of her grip that if Lucien didn't react soon, she could pin him completely. But then, he moved.
In one smooth shift, Lucien rolled his shoulders, hooking one arm beneath her knee and twisting his hips. The reversal happened so fast that even the barrier sensors had to recalibrate. The next moment, Alexandria was the one on her back, Lucien's hand braced lightly but firmly against the base of her neck.
The entire hall went silent again.
Kenneth's sharp eyes picked up the subtle placement of Lucien's fingers—right above the jugular, near the pressure point that controlled airflow. One wrong move, and she'd black out in seconds.
Alexandria, to her credit, didn't fight it. She knew very well that forcing through would not only result in her loss, but she'd black the fuck out, and that was not a chance she was willing to take. She looked up, meeting Lucien's gaze and almost flinched at how cold they looked. It was like looking into a frozen tundra. Shivers crawled up her spine.
This guy is insane, she thought.
Had it been any other circumstance, she would've died right then and there. She pursed her lips. Not like she couldn't understand the urge, the feeling. Strikers were monsters first, heroes second. Her eyes darted toward the edge of the mat, then she exhaled sharply and tapped twice.
Lucien's icy glare softened, and his grip on her neck loosened. The corner of his mouth lifted just a fraction, but Alexandria didn't miss it. "Let go of me, you piece of shit," she hissed.
"With pleasure," he said, the words rolling off his tongue like melted butter.
He released her immediately, rising in a single graceful motion.
The silence broke like glass, cheers, applause, and even a few screams filling the hall as Lucien extended a hand to help her up. She accepted it with a wry grin, rubbing her neck but smiling all the same.
The announcer's voice cut through the noise. "Winner, Lucien Saint-James!"
Kenneth leaned back in his seat, his gaze still on the man in the ring. Lucien's calm expression hadn't changed since the fight began, not even after a clean victory.
He looked like a man who could go through a dozen spars and still come out unscathed. It was both irritating and impressive.
Alcione then stepped forward, a smile adorning his face. His hair, lily white and eyes poppy red, stood out in the room as he threw a hundred-kilowatt smile at the victor. Kenneth looked away as the others started gushing about the fight.
But the more they talked, the more Kenneth couldn't help feeling like something wasn't right. It was a strange feeling, but he knew it felt like he was being watched. He tried to ignore it at first, focusing his attention on Lennon and his words, but the more he tried to ignore it, the stronger the feeling became. Unable to take it anymore, he turned around and saw Lucien staring at him, intently.
Kenneth frowned. Why is he staring at me like that?
Lucien had a peculiar look in his eyes, one mixed with amusement as well as something Kenneth couldn't quite pick up, but it left him feeling unsettled. Just what was going on inside that head of his?
Why did it feel like he was the one doing a disservice by ignoring him?