The arrival platform did not welcome them.
It processed them.
As Arav stepped off the teleport array, the stone beneath his feet pulsed once—then settled. A thin wave of pressure swept across the platform, brushing past skin, bone, circulation.
Several candidates stiffened.
One staggered.
No one commented.
This was the Central Continent's first filter.
Arav adjusted his breathing, letting the pressure pass through rather than resist it. The sensation faded, replaced by a constant, low-level weight that pressed inward from every direction.
Not hostile.
Evaluative.
Around him, arrivals continued in rapid succession.
Human heirs in guarded formation.
Solitary figures wrapped in suppression artifacts.
Non-human prodigies whose true forms strained against containment.
Some arrived loudly—auras flaring before being forcibly compressed by the platform's formations.
Others arrived quietly—and drew more attention for it.
Meghala walked a step behind Arav, her presence unmistakable. The Silver Tempest did not hide her aura completely. She did not need to.
Several gazes shifted toward her.
Then away.
Escort confirmed.
Family backing noted.
Threat acknowledged.
A broad walkway extended forward from the platform, leading toward a massive stone concourse carved directly into the plateau. At its far end, Astraforge Sovereign Academy loomed—close enough now that its suppression fields were impossible to ignore.
Arav felt them press against his senses.
Layered.
Interlocked.
Relentless.
Every instinct he had told him the same thing.
This place could kill him if it decided to.
And it would not explain why.
They moved with the flow of candidates toward the concourse.
Along the way, smaller formations activated intermittently, projecting basic information.
Orientation zone.
Registration pending.
Unauthorized movement restricted.
No instructions on how to prepare.
No reassurance.
A test already underway.
To Arav's left, lightning flickered briefly before snapping inward.
Vajrin Vajrakul.
He rolled his shoulders, jaw set, eyes bright with restrained aggression.
"So this is it," Vajrin muttered. "Feels tighter than I expected."
"Means you're being measured," Meghala replied without looking at him.
Vajrin glanced her way, then back toward the academy. He grinned.
"Good."
A few steps ahead, Kael Velmor walked with his hands in his pockets, gaze drifting lazily across the surroundings. Space warped subtly around his shoulders, correcting itself each time he shifted.
He noticed Arav looking.
Kael tilted his head slightly, then smiled—quick, casual, unconcerned.
No words exchanged.
Across the concourse, a faint heat shimmer marked Zyra Vaelthrix's path. Her movements were smooth, unhurried, as if the pressure simply slid off her. Several candidates unconsciously adjusted their distance from her.
Farther still, Saanvi Chandrakul walked alone.
No aura.
No display.
The pressure around her did not ease.
It folded.
The concourse widened, opening into a vast outer hall.
Above them, observation arrays activated in sequence—hundreds of them—locking onto every candidate simultaneously. Arav felt the sensation of being seen multiply.
Not eyes.
Systems.
Meghala halted at the threshold.
"This is where I stop," she said.
Arav turned.
"From here on, you stand alone. Family representatives remain outside academy jurisdiction."
"I understand."
Meghala studied him for a moment, then nodded.
"Don't be fast," she said quietly. "Be accurate."
Then she stepped back.
The boundary formation flared once, sealing behind him.
Arav moved forward with the others into the hall.
Registration awaited.
And with it, the first real reshuffle of the future.