A desolate realm lay locked in a perpetual twilight, smothered beneath a ceiling of churning, thunderous clouds. Below stretched a world of ice and stone, a brutal, mountainous landscape where colossal peaks jostled for dominance, denying even a sliver of flat ground. Everest would have been a mere foothill here; from above, the vista was a frozen, endless sea of jagged spines.
Yet this was a sea of ruin. Thousands of mountains had been pulverized into fields of rubble, their forms replaced by yawning craters that pockmarked the terrain. This was not the work of natural disaster, but of a conflict between two living forces.
The proof came in a single, shattering BOOM! A shockwave of pure concussive force erupted outwards, vaporizing thirty mountains in an instant. At its epicenter, two figures recoiled from the clash of their fists, drifting apart with the calm of celestial bodies. Smirks of profound satisfaction cut across their faces.
They were clad identically: blue keikogi secured by black belts, reinforced by military boots and half-finger gloves—a uniform for ultimate combat.
The two young men were a study in contrasts. One had black hair tipped with electric blue, while the other bore a longer, unruly brown mane. Despite their different styles, both possessed the sharp, handsome features of seasoned warriors.
The black-haired fighter, Pathro, broke the momentary silence with a taunting grin. "You can still keep up, huh? I'm impressed."
Kiligaku, the brown-haired brawler, scoffed. "What made you think I wouldn't in the first place?"
The words were a feint. In the same breath, Kiligaku launched a blistering chop-kick at Pathro's head. Pathro evaded by dropping into a low squat, the air whistling where his head had been. Seizing the opening, he unleashed a savage kick of his own. Kiligaku crossed his arms in a desperate guard, but the sheer force behind the blow sent him rocketing backward. He tore through a line of mountains like a bullet through butter, stone and ice exploding in his wake.
He skidded to a halt just in time to see Pathro descending from above, fist aimed like a meteor. Kiligaku leaped upward, and Pathro's punch instead connected with the ground. The impact was catastrophic, vaporizing the terrain into a massive crater and reducing the surrounding peaks to mere pebbles.
"Hey," Kiligaku called out, casually dusting off his keikogi as he landed. "I think you missed."
Pathro's expression tightened with annoyance. "More like you dodged."
He lunged forward, a straight punch aimed at Kiligaku's center. Kiligaku deflected the blow and fired a counter-fist into Pathro's abdomen. Pathro twisted away, the strike grazing his side, and immediately swept a leg at Kiligaku's footing. Anticipating the move, Kiligaku used the momentum to launch into a spring kick, his heel connecting solidly with Pathro's guard.
The block saved Pathro from a direct hit, but the concussive force still blasted him through several mountain ranges. Seeing his advantage, Kiligaku dropped into a sprinter's stance and blitzed after him at blinding speed.
But Pathro was ready. He wrenched himself to a stop and, as Kiligaku closed in, simply stomped the ground. The earth shattered, a deep fissure racing out to snare Kiligaku's leading leg. Thrown off balance, Kiligaku's carefully prepared punch went wild, slamming into the ground and birthing another colossal crater.
Pathro looked down, a smirk playing on his lips. "What's wrong? I didn't even dodge, and you're already destroying the mountains for me."
Kiligaku wrested his foot from the crack, replying through gritted teeth, "You're so proud of yourself for using a cheap trick."
"Well," Pathro retorted, his grin widening. "That cheap trick brought you to your knees, didn't it?"
In a blur of motion, Pathro closed the distance, his axe kick crashing down before Kiligaku could mount an offense. Kiligaku crossed his arms, bracing for the impact. The block held, but the tremendous force alone sent a web of fractures racing across the frozen ground.
Unyielding, Pathro pivoted, his body spinning into a vicious chop kick aimed at Kiligaku's neck. With impossible speed, Kiligaku arched backward, the attack whistling harmlessly through the air where his head had been.
They fell back, falling into mirrored martial stances. A silent tension thickened the air, then shattered as Aura erupted from them in visible waves. The very planet trembled, the ground groaning under the immense pressure.
"I'll end this now," Pathro declared, his voice cutting through the storm of energy.
"You wish," Kiligaku retorted, his tone laced with a suspended, almost mocking confidence.
They became blurs of raw power, charging one another. When their fists met, it was not a sound, but a cataclysm. BOOM.
An explosive force, visible as a shockwave of pure destruction, radiated outwards. In an instant, over one hundred mountains—each a leviathan fifty times the size of Mount Everest—were unmade, vaporized into a sky-blotting cloud of dust and memory.
It was a sparring match between monsters.
As the dust and snow settled, the two figures stood revealed, a few meters apart, chests heaving.
"Damn," Pathro panted, a note of grudging respect in his voice. "You're still standing?"
Kiligaku sucked in a ragged breath. "I was surprised you thought that was going to take me down in the first place."
"Well, I'm not done." Pathro straightened, fists clenching as his Aura flickered back to life. "I can still keep going."
"Same here," Kiligaku said, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles.
But before they could engage again, a disembodied, AI-like voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. "Attention, Attention! Cadet 13-14 & Cadet 57-14, your time is up. Prepare for return to academy in two minutes."
The voice began a calm countdown. With a sigh of frustration, Pathro let himself fall backward, landing with a soft thud on the ice. "Damn, that was quick. Felt like only an hour."
"Who in the world mistakes eight hours for one?" Kiligaku replied dismissively. "You're probably still coping with the fact that it's our last time ever training in this realm."
"Can't lie, that's probably it," Pathro admitted, staring into the alien sky. "Can't believe this is even my last day as a Cadet. I wonder what life is like as a Soldier."
"Let's just hope I still get time to kick your ass every now and then," Kiligaku said.
"That time is never gonna come, but I look forward to you trying."
"Hmph. Anyways," Kiligaku mused, "I wonder what we missed while we were in here. It was only about an hour from the new year when we left."
Pathro waved a dismissive hand. "I bet it's nothing much. Just fireworks and cheers."
The AI voice returned, final and absolute. "Countdown is over. Teleportation is now in action."
An eerie white aura enveloped them both, and in the next heartbeat, they vanished.
The realm they left behind was known as the Icetomb, though the cadets had a simpler name for it: the Freezing Hell. A construct of the Japanese Military, this realm was a crucible designed to forge soldiers in impossible conditions. The temperature was a constant, life-obliterating -270°C, and gravity crushed down at 120 times that of Earth. It was a completely independent, real, and literally infinite dimension.
The Icetomb was just one of ten such realms, each a unique engine of torment designed to breed adaptability and resilience. Their only common features were their reality, and their endlessness.
The eerie white aura dissipated, depositing Pathro and Kiligaku onto a smooth, metallic platform. Circular and etched with glowing circuits of advanced sci-fi technology, the teleportation base hummed with latent energy. Before them stood a man who needed no technology to command attention—a towering, broad-shouldered figure whose very presence exuded authority.
"Well, am I to assume you were waiting for us, sir?" Pathro asked, his voice still carrying the residual fatigue of their spar.
The man's gaze was unreadable. "You two sometimes forget you are the representatives of the cadets," he stated, his voice a low rumble. "We instructors have a lot for you to address your fellow comrades about. Come with me."
A silent, weary groan passed between Kiligaku and Pathro. We just got out of training, and we're already being handed paperwork, they thought in unison.
Pathro ventured a plea. "Sir, with all due respect, we're exhausted. We spent eight hours in the Icetomb. Can we at least get a moment to rest?"
The instructor waved a dismissive hand. "That is not my problem. That was a usage of your bed time..." He paused mid-sentence, his brow furrowing. "...Wait. Did you say eight hours?"
A spark of hope ignited on the cadets' faces. Finally, he understood the magnitude of their exertion.
"Yes, sir," Kiligaku confirmed, straightening slightly. "We stayed and fought non-stop for the full eight hours."
The instructor's eyes flicked to a sophisticated chronometer on his wrist, its display reading 07:02 AM. A slow, knowing, and slightly ominous smile touched his lips. "Oh, I see. So you are completely unaware of what happened last night." He turned, his long coat swishing as he began to walk away. "No matter. You'll find out soon enough. Now, follow me."
The brief hope curdled into cold confusion. Pathro and Kiligaku exchanged a loaded glance. What happened last night? The instructor's tone suggested it was something monumental. But whatever it was, it had clearly not earned them any reprieve from their duties. With a shared, resigned sigh, they fell into step behind him, the mystery hanging over them as heavily as the Icetomb's gravity.