The final morning of the selection process arrived with a heavy, electric stillness. Xavier woke to the sound of the stadium's sub-woofers vibrating through the floorboards of his dorm room. He checked his terminal.
[MATCH RESULT: MAYA (26%) DEFEATS FINN (29%) – TECHNICAL SUBMISSION]
The news didn't surprise him. Maya was a surgeon with her strikes. But the notification served as a final wake-up call. The bracket had dwindled. The crowd was hungry. And he was the last man on the list.
Xavier stood before the mirror. He didn't look like the gaunt, broken boy who had crawled across the locker room floor at St. Jude's. His shoulders were corded with muscle, his stance wide and stable. He began to prep. He wrapped his feet in medical tape, feeling the friction against the floor. He wound the white cloth around his knuckles and wrists, tightening the binds until his hands felt like two blocks of stone.
He skipped the flashy academy uniform. He pulled on a compression sports shirt and black MMA-style training shorts. He looked less like a cadet and more like a gladiator.
The walk to the arena felt like a march to a gallows. Thousands of spectators filled the stands, their voices rising in a deafening crescendo as Xavier stepped onto the stone platform. On the high thrones, the Five Commanders sat forward. Simon Ross had his chin resting on his hand, his eyes narrowed, watching the "2% anomaly."
Kiko was already there. She had traded her sniper rifle for a high-performance sports bra and athletic tights, her hair pulled back into a tight, severe ponytail. Even without a weapon, her 30% mana output was visible—a faint, flickering shimmer of violet energy that clung to her skin like heat haze.
"Cadets! Choose your weapons!" the referee shouted.
Kiko looked at the rack of kendo sticks and staves. Then she looked at Xavier.
Xavier didn't even glance at the rack. He raised his taped hands, his Level 15 Vision locking onto Kiko's pulse point at her neck. "I'm good," he said, his voice echoing through the stadium mics. "I'm fighting with my bare hands."
A ripple of laughter and murmurs broke out in the crowd. Bare hands against a 30%?
Kiko's lips curled into a dry, amused smile. "You really are an interesting one, Zero. Fine. If you want to play hero, I'll play along. I'll fight without a weapon too."
The referee looked between them, shrugged, and stepped back. He raised his hand high.
"FIGHT!"
Kiko didn't wait. She moved with the speed of a discharged bullet—a blur of motion that Xavier's 80 Speed barely tracked.
CRACK-CRACK!
Before Xavier could even settle into a stance, two lightning-fast roundhouse kicks slammed into the side of his face. His head snapped back, the taste of copper filling his mouth as his nose exploded in a spray of red. He stumbled back, his vision swimming with white stars.
The crowd went wild. "Finish him, Kiko!"
Xavier shook his head, spitting a glob of blood onto the stone. He didn't crumble. He raised his arms, tucking his chin into his shoulder in a classic boxing peek-a-boo stance. His Level 79 Vitality was the only thing that had kept his jaw from shattering.
Kiko charged again, a flurry of strikes aimed at his vitals. Xavier saw the opening. He stepped inside her guard and launched a straight right. Kiko twisted her body mid-air, the punch whistling past her ear, but Xavier shifted his weight—the Kid Dynamite skill humming in his mind. He converted the missed momentum into a short, brutal body hook.
THUD.
His fist buried itself in Kiko's midsection. She gasped, the air leaving her lungs for a split second, but she used the impact to spin, her heel catching Xavier's temple in a vicious spinning back-kick.
Xavier didn't let her reset. He lunged forward, his arms wrapping around her waist in a sudden, explosive grapple. He lifted her off the ground, his 70 Strength surging through his legs.
"Get down!" he roared, slamming her into the stone with a thunderous Power Bomb.
The impact shook the platform. But Kiko was a 30% for a reason. As she hit the ground, she didn't bounce; she coiled. Her legs whipped upward, locking around Xavier's neck in a lightning-fast triangle choke. She used her momentum to flip him over, the two of them tumbling across the stone in a tangled mess of limbs.
They separated, both springing to their feet and gasping for air. Xavier's face was a mask of blood, his nose crooked. Kiko was breathing hard, a dark bruise already forming on her ribs.
She let out a short, jagged laugh. "You're a funny guy, Zero. I actually felt that one."
"Glad to... oblige," Xavier panted.
He moved in again. He threw a sharp left jab. Kiko dipped her head to dodge, but it was a feint. Xavier's hips pivoted, and he unleashed a rising uppercut that caught Kiko right under the chin.
Her head snapped up, her body momentarily airborne. The crowd screamed. But as she came down, she performed a mid-air flip, her foot catching Xavier in the back of the head with a descending axe-kick.
Xavier hit the deck, his face grinding into the dirt.
"Give up!" Kiko shouted, hovering over him. "You've done enough! Just stay down!"
Xavier laughed, the sound wet and gargled. He reached out with a hand like a vice, grabbing Kiko's ankle. He yanked her down, dragging her into the dirt with him. They scrambled like animals, a mess of elbows and knees. Xavier managed to take her back, sinking his forearm under her chin for a rear-naked choke.
He squeezed with everything he had. Kiko's face turned a deep shade of purple, her hand reaching out to tap the stone.
But then, the mana flared.
A burst of raw energy exploded from Kiko's body—a desperate "mana-flicker" that sent a shockwave through Xavier's nervous system. His grip loosened for a fraction of a second. It was all she needed.
Kiko slammed an elbow back into Xavier's bloodied nose, a sickening crunch echoing through the arena. She spun in his arms, reversing the submission. She wrapped her arm around his throat and leaned back, putting the full weight of her 30% reinforced frame into the choke.
Xavier's vision began to tunnel. He gripped her arm, trying to pry it off, but the world was turning grey.
Tap out, his mind whispered. You've proved them wrong. You made it to the end.
No, Xavier thought, his fingers clawing at the stone. I don't tap.
The grey turned to black. His hands fell limp.
The referee rushed in, pulling Kiko off the unconscious boy. "Winner: Kiko!"
The stadium was in a state of absolute delirium. They had expected a slaughter; they had received a war. Even the Commanders were standing now, looking down at the broken boy being lifted onto a stretcher. It wasn't the victory of a prodigy they were discussing—it was the resolve of the Zero.
Hours later, Xavier woke up in the infirmary. His face was wrapped in bandages, and his body felt like it had been run over by a Titan. But as he sat up, the violet System screen flickered to life.
[STAGE 3 COMPLETE]
He looked at the foot of his bed. His official ESDF cadet uniform was laid out, crisp and black. Next to it was a digital tablet pulsing with a single notification.
The Draft.
He walked out into the main hall, joining the remaining thirty-five cadets. They stood in a line, silent and weary. The five Commanders stood before them, their faces grim and expectant.
"The trials are over," Commander Simon Ross said, his voice carrying a weight that made the room feel small. "The world has watched you bleed. Now, the Garrisons will choose who among you is worthy to hold the line."
Xavier stood at the very end of the line. He looked at Asher, who was staring at the floor. He looked at Maya, who looked at him with a newfound, silent respect.
The most powerful men and women on Earth were about to decide his fate. And for the first time in his life, Xavier Reyes wasn't afraid of the answer.