The sun had already begun to disappear behind the stone walls.
The last rays of light crossed the orphanage's tall windows.
Long golden streaks cut through the interior of the building.
But not even the evening light was capable of making that place feel any less cold.
In one of the building's wings...
A vast hall remained submerged in silence.
Tall stone pillars supported the ceiling.
Iron chains hung down between the columns.
An enormous bronze bell remained suspended above the hall.
Its surface bore the marks left by time.
Beneath it...
The newcomers stood in formation.
Four rows.
Five children in each.
The space between them was almost perfect.
Some kept their eyes lowered.
Others discreetly observed the surroundings.
The smell of old wood blended with the coldness of stone.
The silence seemed heavier than the walls themselves.
Toc.
Toc.
Toc.
The sound of footsteps echoed through the hall.
The heavy wooden door slowly opened.
CRRRR...
Every gaze turned toward the entrance.
Telvaris stepped through first.
Behind him...
A young man walked in silence.
His bronze skin and white hair cut close to his head stood out immediately.
His defined physique was visible even beneath the dark uniform.
His light brown eyes remained fixed straight ahead.
Telvaris took a few steps forward.
The sound of his boots echoed through the hall.
None of the newcomers dared look away.
For a few moments...
Only silence remained.
His golden eyes swept across the formation as he advanced.
"My name is Telvaris."
His voice crossed the hall.
Cold.
Controlled.
"Supervisor of Omega Unit."
"From this moment on..."
"You will answer to me."
His eyes remained on the children.
"My orders are worth more than the life of any one of you."
"And if I order you to die..."
"You will die."
Telvaris stopped before the rows of newcomers.
The white-haired young man stopped behind him.
His hands clasped behind his back.
Like a shadow.
Then Telvaris spoke again.
"Forget your families."
"Forget your names."
"Because none of them have any value here."
Some children lowered their eyes.
Others remained rigid.
As though any movement could be considered a mistake.
"Starting today..."
"You are no one."
"And you will remain that way until you prove you deserve to become something."
A girl in the third row quietly clenched her fists.
Another boy lowered his gaze to the stone floor.
No one dared speak.
"In this place..."
"The strong impose their will."
"The weak accept the will of others."
A brief pause.
"Or die."
The weight of those words seemed to pass through the entire hall.
Some faces turned pale.
Others remained motionless.
But every one of them heard.
"Do not expect compassion."
"Do not expect justice."
"Do not expect anyone to come and save you."
Telvaris began walking before the rows.
Toc.
Toc.
Toc.
His footsteps echoed between the pillars.
"If you are not useful..."
His eyes swept across the third row.
One boy looked away.
A girl stiffened her shoulders.
Another newcomer lowered his head.
"You will be discarded."
No objection rose from the formation.
Telvaris slowly raised one hand.
His finger pointed toward the enormous bell suspended above the hall.
"Look at it."
Every gaze followed the gesture.
"Because it holds more authority than any of you ever will."
The silence remained absolute.
"When the bell rings..."
"You will run."
"You will eat."
"You will fight."
"You will sleep."
A brief pause.
"And, if necessary..."
"You will bleed."
The weight of those words seemed to spread through the formation.
"Get used to it."
Some children kept their eyes fixed on the enormous bell.
Others looked away.
"Because it will remain here long after all of you have disappeared."
The silence grew even heavier.
Telvaris turned his attention back to the rows.
"And there is something else you need to understand."
"Discipline."
His voice became even colder.
"Veterans possess authority granted by their superiors."
"If they give you an order..."
"You will obey it."
None of the newcomers moved.
"Not because they are important."
"Not because they are special."
"But because the structure of this place is sustained by hierarchy."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"And those who challenge that hierarchy..."
"Tend to have very short lives."
His gaze returned to the bell.
"Supervisor."
"Veteran."
"Bell."
"The difference between them is irrelevant."
His voice echoed through the hall.
"When one of them calls..."
"You will answer."
A brief pause.
"Welcome to Blackthorn Orphanage."
Silence was the only reply.
Then...
A voice came from near the entrance to the hall.
"Supervisor Telvaris."
Every gaze shifted.
The figure stood beside the open door.
He wore the same black uniform as the supervisors.
His hands clasped behind his back.
"The arena is ready."
Telvaris held his gaze for a few moments.
"Follow me."
Without waiting for any response...
He walked toward the exit.
The sound of his footsteps shattered the silence once again.
The newcomers exchanged discreet glances.
Then they followed him.
The stone corridors seemed even colder as they advanced.
Not a single word was spoken.
Only the rhythmic echo of boots across the ancient floor.
Little by little...
The main building was left behind.
The wind began to blow again.
Colder.
Heavier.
When they passed beneath the last stone arch...
The arena revealed itself.
At the center of the courtyard, a wide circle of black stone marked the arena.
It did not resemble a training ground.
It looked like an altar.
Around it...
Large iron braziers burned without end.
The flames swayed with the wind.
Casting uneven shadows across the ground.
Hundreds of orphans stood motionless around the circle.
Their hands clasped behind their backs.
Their faces turned toward the center.
No conversation.
No whispers.
Only silence.
The newcomers slowed their pace almost at the same time.
Some held their breath.
Others quietly clenched their fists.
Their eyes found Éreon.
He stood motionless among the other orphans.
His hands clasped behind his back.
His face expressionless.
Even without understanding what was about to happen there...
They all felt it.
That place existed to decide destinies.
Not to teach.
Telvaris stood for a few moments watching the center of the arena.
Then he spoke.
"Number Two."
Not a single word was spoken.
The white-haired young man simply walked.
His footsteps echoed across the stone until he reached the center of the circle.
Then he stopped.
His hands clasped behind his back once more.
His gaze remained fixed ahead.
Telvaris turned toward the newcomers.
"This will be your first test."
His golden eyes passed over every one of them.
"When it ends..."
"We will discover how many of you still deserve to be fed tonight."
The words spread across the arena.
Some of the newcomers held their breath.
Others simply remained still.
"Your only task..."
"Will be to remain standing."
His gaze did not waver.
"Until I order you to stop."
"Those who remain standing..."
"Will have dinner."
His eyes grew even colder.
"Those who fall..."
"Will spend the night running."
His finger slowly pointed toward the stone circle.
"You will keep running..."
"Until the last orphan finishes their meal."
No reaction emerged from the formation.
"You will receive no water."
"You will receive no food."
His words echoed coldly across the arena.
Telvaris slowly raised his arm.
"All of you."
A brief pause.
"Enter the circle."
Without saying a single word...
Their hesitant footsteps echoed across the black stone.
Some kept their fists clenched.
Others breathed unevenly.
When all of them reached the center of the arena...
They stopped.
Number Two remained with his hands clasped behind his back.
His relaxed posture contrasted with the tension written across the children's faces.
No one dared take the first step.
The wind swept through the arena.
The flames of the braziers swayed.
Hundreds of orphans watched in absolute silence.
"Begin."
Telvaris' voice shattered the stillness.
None of the children moved.
Their eyes remained fixed on the veteran.
Fear held their bodies captive.
A brief moment passed.
Telvaris spoke without changing his tone.
"Number Two."
The veteran slowly unclasped his hands.
Then he moved.
The nearest boy barely managed to raise his arms.
BOOM!
The fist sank into his abdomen.
Every bit of air abandoned his lungs.
His body folded forward.
Before his knees could touch the stone...
Number Two caught his arm.
He turned his hips.
CRAAASH!
The boy was thrown over his shoulder and slammed violently into the ground.
The impact echoed throughout the arena.
"A-AAAH!"
The silence vanished.
The others finally snapped awake.
Shouts shattered the formation.
Four charged at him at once.
Without coordination.
Number Two stepped between them.
His elbow struck the first one's chest.
The boy was thrown backward.
In the same movement...
A knee drove into the second one's abdomen.
The impact lifted his feet off the ground.
While he was still falling...
Number Two pivoted on his stance.
His leg swept the third boy's support out from under him.
The boy lost his balance.
Before he could even hit the ground...
One of the veteran's hands seized his shirt.
He turned the boy's own momentum into a throw.
His body flew across the stone circle.
BATOOOM!
He crashed into two other newcomers, knocking them both down.
The rest hesitated.
The distance between them widened.
Heavy breathing filled the arena.
Some looked at their fallen companions.
Others stared at Number Two.
With fear.
The veteran remained still.
His posture was still relaxed.
His arms hung naturally at his sides once again.
As though those few seconds had demanded no effort whatsoever.
Around him...
More than half the formation had already disappeared.
The few still standing clenched their fists.
The fear was still there.
But now...
They knew that if they remained standing still...
They would be next.
A shout broke across the arena.
The remaining children charged almost simultaneously.
There was no strategy.
Only desperation.
Clenched fists.
Shoves.
Outstretched arms trying to grab him.
Number Two did not step back.
He took one step forward.
His shoulder crashed into the first boy's chest.
BOOM!
The impact hurled him backward.
Before the second could reach him...
A short punch buried itself in his stomach.
The boy lost his breath.
His body folded.
A knee struck his chest.
His body slid across the stone before coming to a stop.
The others kept advancing.
Number Two pivoted on his stance.
He caught the arm of a girl trying to strike him.
He used her own momentum.
Her body left the ground.
CRAAASH!
She hit the stone violently.
Two boys tried to surround him from both sides.
The veteran moved first.
A low kick struck the supporting leg of the one on the left.
His knee gave out instantly.
At that same instant...
A short elbow smashed into the other's chest.
The impact threw him off balance.
Before he could recover his footing...
Number Two shoved him hard.
His body collided with another newcomer.
Both fell together.
The arena sank back into chaos.
One after another...
The newcomers tried to get up.
Only to fall again.
Every charge ended the same way.
A punch.
A knee.
A throw.
Not a single strike was wasted.
Not a single movement existed beyond what was necessary.
Little by little...
Bodies began to cover the entire black stone.
Labored breathing replaced the screams.
"Enough."
Telvaris' voice echoed through the arena.
Only four children remained standing.
Even though they were gasping for breath...
Not one of them had retreated.
One of them had bronze skin.
His thick, unruly brown hair contrasted with his amber eyes.
His gaze remained fixed on Number Two even as his chest rose and fell rapidly.
Beside him...
A fair-skinned boy with dark hair kept his guard up.
His green eyes never left the veteran's movements.
A few steps behind...
Another boy, with ash-blond hair and blue eyes, wiped the blood running from the corner of his mouth before planting his feet once more.
Farther away...
A girl with shoulder-length black hair struggled to breathe.
Her black eyes never left Number Two.
Around them...
The other sixteen lay scattered across the arena.
Some were trying to catch their breath.
Others could not even stand.
Number Two remained motionless.
Silence still hovered over the arena.
Then...
DOOOONG!
The enormous bronze bell echoed throughout the entire orphanage.
Its sound passed through walls.
Corridors.
Dormitories.
DOOOONG!
Not one of the hundreds of orphans moved.
DOOOONG!
The wind carried the final echo across the courtyard.
DOOOONG!
Only when the fourth toll ended...
Did Telvaris walk toward the center of the circle.
His footsteps broke the stillness.
Toc.
Toc.
Toc.
He stopped before the four survivors.
His gaze passed over each of them.
"The bell announces the twentieth hour."
A brief pause.
"As I informed you..."
"Only those who remained standing will be fed."
The four remained motionless.
They were still breathing heavily.
But none of them lowered their guard.
Telvaris turned his gaze toward the boy with the ash-blond hair.
"Number One Hundred Ninety-Seven."
Then...
He looked at the green-eyed boy.
"Number One Hundred Ninety-Eight."
His gaze shifted to the girl.
"Number One Hundred Ninety-Nine."
Finally...
He met the amber eyes.
"Number Two Hundred."
The silence remained absolute.
"Remember those numbers."
"Until you prove you deserve something beyond them..."
"That is how you will exist."
No reply came.
Telvaris turned toward the other newcomers, scattered across the black stone.
"The other sixteen..."
A brief pause.
"Will run."
His tone remained unchanged.
"At dawn..."
"You will receive a second chance."
His golden eyes passed over every fallen face.
Telvaris slightly raised one hand.
"Dismissed."
At that very instant...
The veterans scattered around the arena began to move.
Some escorted the four survivors toward the dining hall.
Others lifted the newcomers who could no longer walk on their own.
Little by little...
The bodies left the circle.
The murmur of footsteps faded into the corridors.
The braziers continued to burn.
But now...
The arena belonged to silence once again.
Leaving only three presences behind.
The wind crossed the stone circle.
For a few moments...
None of them spoke.
Soon, Number Two broke the silence.
"It was the first time..."
His voice was calm.
Restrained.
"Since I joined the Order of Shadows..."
"That newcomers were made to fight on their first day."
Telvaris stared into the flames of the braziers.
"Before leaving..."
His voice remained serene.
"The Director left a new order."
"All the numbers will climb the mountain."
The silence grew heavier.
Number Two's gaze wavered for a brief instant.
Telvaris began to walk.
"Prepare yourself."
Without saying another word...
He left the arena.