In a separate chamber, a group of hooded figures were carefully observing a sea of floating orbs.
Inside the orbs, there were moving images providing a direct view into everything that transpired inside the containment units.
"It never fails... every year, brats come in here thinking that just because their parents can afford to buy some fancy trainers that they have nothing to fear and don't need to prepare. I hate kids." One said.
Snobby, refined laughter echoed throughout the room as the other hooded figures voiced their agreement.
"It took longer than usual for them to start the fighting this year. Guess we have a slow bunch this time around. I'll be sure to adjust my lesson plans accordingly." Another joked.
"Or maybe they're just a little bit too soft from cushy lives. A few nights in the Dark Mountains might awaken that killer instinct in these little lambs."
"Obviously. What change did you think I was going to add to my lesson plans?"
More laughter echoed around the room as the examiners watched cadets die by the dozens.
There were only a few who weren't laughing and had their eyes firmly locked on the exam still taking place.
"There seem to be... a few standouts this year." One finally noted.
Eyes in the room subtly drifted over to the seven or eight orbs that displayed stellar warriors.
In a class just a little over 500, there were a few who showed a genuine aptitude. Most seemed like they were only good at surviving.
But that wouldn't be enough to see the end of a full term here. Volkova Academy was the sort of place where you either got better or you died.
Nobles could make a stink about their children dying all they wanted, but ultimately, they forfeited any right to complain when they paid the tuition fee.
Besides, no one was going to readily cross the Dean…
"My word... everyone, look at sector 9!"
Slowly, all of the orbs in the room began to shift to show one very specific battle taking place.
"Did we... allow weapons to be used within this examination?"
"A-All of them were searched prior to entering containment, and any weapons they had were confiscated."
"Well, obviously not, Shelly!"
"I don't know what to tell you, he pulled the sword out of thin air! I-It might be an Armament!"
The expressions of everyone in the room went slack.
"You're joking. What stage is he in??"
An intern in the corner of the room began frantically flipping through a stack of papers.
"H-His intake form has him as an Orange core, sir!"
Somehow, the silence in the room became even louder than before.
"Wait... we're supposed to call the exam when there were fifteen left, weren't we??"
"Yes, why..?"
"Count, you fool! There are only two!"
-
Solomon was unrecognizable.
His form was covered almost head to toe in blood belonging to tens of different people.
In his hand, he held his ominous black sword that pulsed with a similar energy akin to a heartbeat.
An orange eye similar to his own was open and alert at the base of the blade. It's only goal was to seemingly search for new sources of blood and pain to feed it.
The only people remaining in Solomon's enclosure were a young man and a young woman.
The young man was a winged titan with a pair of snow-white wings and white hair to match. His arctic blue eyes darted around the room, looking for any possible exit.
The young woman was the elf who had been the first to strike down an opponent. Unlike her last ally, she seemed less panicked but disappointed. Almost as if she resented having to accept that death was coming for her shortly.
Solomon felt like his mind was swimming in a fog.
He'd been practicing for weeks now to bring out the sword without losing his mind, but apparently, summoning the weapon in an active battle was far different than doing so in an empty bedroom.
The blood rushed to his head. He was so agitated that he felt like he was about to crawl out of his skin.
His hearing was so heightened that he thought he could hear the blood rushing through his last two opponents.
He could smell the fear-infused sweat seeping out of their pores.
He was almost scared of what was going to come after he killed them. What would be left for him to do..?
Using every measure of his strength, Solomon pointed his sword at the last survivors and spoke in a weak voice.
"…run-"
However, his words were overshadowed by the sound of a door being wrenched open.
Solomon and the two survivors both turned their heads toward the northernmost wall, where light was pouring in over the carnage inside.
"All of you, come out! That's enough!" An authoritative voice said.
The young man with wings couldn't fly out of there fast enough.
Solomon took a deep breath, even though he didn't need to.
The mildly unfamiliar sensation of air in his lungs dispersed the fog over his mind. While only slightly, it was enough for him to realize he should put his weapon away.
A burst of orange fire consumed the weapon and hid it from view. Once the weapon disappeared, he felt considerably less homicidal.
Solomon took a moment to check his body's condition.
If he was injured, he didn't remember it. There weren't really any signs for him to tell either.
But the thing that unsettled him the most was that even after cutting through all of those bodies and moving in ways he never had before, he didn't feel the least bit tired.
Solomon eventually noticed the eyes of the young woman staring at him.
The elf had an unwavering gaze that she drilled into him without rest or fear.
But Solomon was having a hard time reading the young woman. He could only assume she was planning revenge given that he had almost murdered her.
"..."
"..."
"Stop dawdling and come out this instant! That's an order!" The voice yelled again.
Solomon and the elf girl momentarily paused their strange staring competition.
Walking side by side, they headed towards the light and into an orientation like no other.