The training floor stretched before them, polished crystal reflecting overhead lights in fractured patterns. Kaelen and Vyne stood ten meters apart, the space between them charged with quiet anticipation.
Around the hall, other students had paired off for their own matches. The sound of footwork, aether crackling, and occasional impact created a background hum of controlled chaos. But in their immediate area, several students had paused to watch.
The boy who'd forced a Domain manifestation versus the girl with the mysterious ability.
Instructor Mira stood near the wall, arms crossed, amber eyes tracking every pairing simultaneously. She made no move to intervene, simply observing with the silent intensity of someone who missed nothing.
Kaelen activated [Analytical Scan Lv. 2].
[–5 A.E.]
The familiar interface materialized in his vision, information scrolling across Vyne's form.
[Vyne Kayla]
[Classification: Unique]
[Ability: ?????]
[Grade: ?????]
[Cultivation: ?????]
Nothing. Just question marks once again.
His scan was blocked completely. That only happened with abilities or cultivations significantly above his level, or with grades his current scan couldn't process.
Vyne noticed him staring and tilted her head, violet eyes glinting with amusement. "See something interesting?"
"Just preparing," Kaelen said evenly.
"Sure you are." She rolled her shoulders, settling into a relaxed stance that somehow looked both casual and ready. "Don't hold back, celebrity. I can take it."
"Would you stop calling me that already?"
She only shrugged jokingly to his question.
Instructor Mira's voice carried across the hall, addressing all pairs simultaneously. "First to three clean hits wins. Non-lethal techniques only. Control your outputs." She paused, making eye contact with several students. "Begin when ready."
Kaelen took a breath, centering himself. He'd seen Vyne's ability in action during their patrol mission. The way things just... worked out for her. Enemies tripping, equipment malfunctioning, perfect timing.
Probability manipulation. Subtle, consistent, devastatingly effective.
He'd have to overwhelm it. Create too many variables for even luck to handle.
"Ready?" Vyne asked, still smiling.
Kaelen nodded.
"Good." She put her hands behind her back. "I'll even give you the first move."
That should have been insulting. Instead, it was unsettling.
Kaelen activated [Flash Step Lv.1].
[–19 A.E.]
He blurred forward, closing the distance in an instant, his right hand coated with a thin layer of aether for a clean strike.
[Aether Manipulation Lv. 4]
[–3 A.E./sec]
Mid-step, his foot caught on something.
The ground was perfectly flat. Polished crystal, smooth as glass. But his boot heel somehow found the one microscopic imperfection, the single point where friction vanished.
His momentum carried forward but his balance broke. He stumbled, barely catching himself.
Vyne stepped forward, still smiling, and tapped his shoulder lightly.
"One," she said cheerfully.
...
First Hit: Vyne (1-0)
Kaelen straightened, frowning. That wasn't a coincidence. The timing was too perfect.
"Bad luck," Vyne said, her tone entirely innocent.
Kaelen circled, reassessing. Direct approaches wouldn't work. She'd just... make them fail somehow.
He needed misdirection.
[Spatial Warp Lv. 1]
[–24 A.E.]
The space between them distorted, bending his position. To Vyne, it would look like he was approaching from the left. In reality, he was moving right, the spatial displacement creating a false image.
He appeared behind her, hand already moving for a strike.
Vyne turned.
Not quickly. Not with enhanced reflexes. She just... turned at the exact moment, as if she'd always known he'd be there.
Her hand intercepted his wrist, redirected it gently, and tapped his ribs.
"Two," she said.
...
Second Hit: Vyne (2-0)
Kaelen stepped back, breathing carefully. She wasn't predicting. She wasn't reading his movements or using enhanced perception.
Things were just working out for her.
Around them, other matches continued. Someone shouted as an attack connected. Another student crashed into a practice dummy with a heavy thud. But in their circle, everything felt... quiet. Focused.
Kaelen's mind raced. If probability favored her, he needed to create situations where even perfect luck couldn't help. Overwhelming force. Multiple simultaneous threats.
He activated [Chrono-Perception], the world fracturing into slow motion.
Then [Spatial Awareness], expanding his senses outward.
[Passive skills: No cost]
Now he could see everything. Track every variable. Plan multiple attacks simultaneously.
He moved.
[Flash Step]
[–19 A.E.]
Repositioning left.
[Spatial Warp]
[–24 A.E.]
Creating displacement to hide his true angle.
[Aether Manipulation Lv. 4]
[–15 A.E.]
Three aether constructs materialized around Vyne, simple barriers that would force her movement into specific channels.
If she dodged left, his Flash Step put him there. If she dodged right, the constructs blocked her. If she stayed still, he had her.
Vyne tried to slip through a gap between constructs.
Kaelen was already there, his aether-coated hand connecting with her shoulder cleanly.
First Hit: Kaelen (2-1)
...
Vyne blinked, then smiled wider. "Oh, you figured it out. Not bad, celebrity."
Kaelen didn't respond, pressing his advantage. He couldn't give her time to adjust.
[Temporal Drag Lv. 1]
[–15 A.E./sec]
The air around Vyne thickened, time itself slowing by twenty-five percent within the targeted area. Her movements became sluggish, harder to execute even if luck favored her positioning.
Kaelen moved through the effect easily, his own temporal authority exempting him from the drag.
He struck again. Clean hit to her side.
Second Hit: Kaelen (2-2)
...
Vyne stepped out of the Temporal Drag's range, breathing slightly harder now. For the first time, her casual demeanor showed a crack of genuine focus.
"Okay," she said, rolling her shoulders. "Now it's interesting."
They circled each other, both reassessing.
[A.E.: 245/425]
Kaelen had burned through almost half his reserves already. Vyne looked barely winded.
He needed to end this quickly.
Kaelen launched everything.
[Temporal Drag Lv. 1]
[–15 A.E./sec]
Active immediately, slowing the space around Vyne.
[Flash Step Lv. 1]
[–19 A.E.]
Repositioning to her blind side.
[Spatial Warp Lv. 1]
[–24 A.E.]
Distorting his approach angle to make tracking impossible.
[Aether Burst Lv. 1]
[–29 A.E.]
Low output, creating pressure and forcing movement.
[Aether Manipulation Lv. 4]
[–30 A.E.]
Five constructs forming simultaneously, barriers and false targets spreading across the field.
It was multiple skills except Spatial Lance, temporal lock and spatial lock, all layered into one overwhelming assault.
[A.E.: 156/425]
For a heartbeat, it worked. The constructs closed in. The Temporal Drag held. His positioning was perfect.
Then everything went wrong at once.
His Flash Step put him off-angle. Just milliseconds, but enough. The spatial distortion from Warp flickered unexpectedly, breaking his concealment half a second early. His footing slipped on completely dry ground. The Aether Burst detonated fractionally off-target, the pressure wave missing Vyne entirely.
And all five of his aether constructs collapsed simultaneously for no apparent reason. No external force. No interference. They just... failed.
Vyne walked through the chaos untouched.
She was suddenly inside his guard, her hand tapping his chest cleanly.
"Three," she said quietly.
...
Third Hit: Vyne (3-2)
The match was over.
Kaelen stood there, breathing hard, staring at the girl who'd just dismantled his best combination through sheer impossibility.
"You're persistent," Vyne said, stepping back. "I like that. Most people would have given up after the first two 'accidents.'"
Kaelen exhaled slowly, deactivating his skills. "You're really manipulating probability."
"Maybe I'm just naturally fortunate," Vyne replied, her smile returning to its usual playful intensity.
"Nothing about that was natural."
"Wasn't it?" She tilted her head. "Things just worked out, that's all."
Before Kaelen could respond, Instructor Mira's voice carried across the hall.
"Time! All matches, conclude."
Around them, other students stopped mid-exchange, stepping back from their partners. The hall filled with the sound of heavy breathing, quiet conversation, and the occasional groan of someone who'd taken a particularly good hit.
Mira walked among the pairs, her movements fluid and purposeful. She stopped briefly at each group, offering short observations.
"Roan, good use of reversal timing, but you're telegraphing the activation. Work on that."
"Liora, stop relying on seeing futures. Learn to fight in the present."
"Kieran... where the hell did you go? Oh, there you are. Effective, but unnerving. Good."
She reached Kaelen and Vyne last.
Her amber eyes swept over both of them, taking in Kaelen's elevated breathing and Vyne's completely calm demeanor.
"Interesting match," Mira said. "Burn, your adaptation was solid. You identified the problem and created solutions fast." She glanced at Vyne. "Vyne, your control is as subtle as always."
"Just lucky," Vyne said cheerfully.
Mira's expression didn't change, but something in her eyes suggested she wasn't buying it. "Sure you are."
She turned to address the full group, her voice carrying easily. "This is what Unique combat looks like. No two abilities work the same way, so no two strategies work the same way. You adapt or you lose."
Mira gestured to several students. "Roan, demonstrate your reversal one more time. Liora, show the branching effect. Kieran, do that disappearing thing again so everyone sees it properly."
The three students stepped forward.
Roan faced a practice dummy, let it swing at him with mechanical precision, then touched the incoming strike. The dummy's arm reversed instantly, the momentum sending it crashing backward into itself.
Liora stood still, closed her eyes, and for a brief moment, translucent images overlaid her position. Dozens of her, each one representing a potential future branching from the present moment. Then they collapsed back into one as she chose a path.
Kieran simply... vanished. Not invisible. Not hidden behind something. He was there, and then he wasn't, as if reality forgot he existed. Several students looked directly at where he'd been standing and showed no recognition whatsoever. Then he reappeared, as abruptly as he'd left.
"Unique abilities," Mira said, "defy standard classification because they interact with reality differently than Mages, Enhancers, or Mutations. You're not shaping aether. You're not reinforcing bodies. You're... bending rules."
She crossed her arms. "Which makes training complicated. But that's what this club exists for."
Mira walked back to the center of the hall. "Alright, logistics. You're all officially members of Unique Combat Division, first-year branch."
She pulled up a holographic display from her wristband, projecting a schedule into the air.
[Mandatory Training Sessions]
- Tuesdays, 4:00 PM - 7:00 PM
- Thursdays, 4:00 PM - 7:00 PM
[Optional Sparring Hours]
- Saturdays, 10:00 AM - 4:00 PM (open access, no instructor required)
[First Club Mission Briefing]
- This Thursday, immediately after training session
Mira dismissed the display. "Missions are how you earn practical experience and RP outside of duels. Your first one is reconnaissance level, nothing immediately dangerous. Full details Thursday."
Several students exchanged glances. Missions meant real fieldwork. Real RP gain.
"Questions?" Mira asked.
A tall girl with shifting-color eyes raised her hand. "Are missions mandatory?"
"For RP progression, yes. You're required to complete at least two club missions per semester. After that, they're optional but highly recommended." Mira's expression was matter-of-fact. "Combat experience beats training every time."
Another student: "Do we choose our mission teams?"
"Sometimes. Other times, I assign them. Depends on the mission and what I think you need to learn." Mira smiled slightly. "Get used to working with people whose abilities don't synergize with yours. That's the point."
No more questions came.
"Dismissed," Mira said. "See you Thursday."
The students began dispersing. Some stayed to chat, forming small groups. Others headed for the exits, conversations trailing behind them.
Kaelen noticed several glances directed his way. Assessing. He'd lost to Vyne, but he'd forced her to actually try. That apparently meant something.
He turned to leave.
"So," Vyne's voice came from directly beside him, "where are you headed? Training? Cafeteria? Dorms?"
Kaelen glanced at her. She'd somehow materialized at his shoulder without him noticing.
"I was going to review some techniques," he said carefully.
"Perfect!" Vyne's face lit up. "I'll come with you. We can compare notes on the sparring match."
"You don't have to—"
"But I want to!" She looped her arm through his before he could step away. "Besides, we're mission partners now. Team bonding is important."
Kaelen resigned himself to her company. Trying to argue with Vyne felt like trying to argue with the weather. Technically possible, but completely pointless.
They walked through the practice hall's exit together, Vyne still attached to his arm. Behind them, Kaelen caught a few students watching the interaction with undisguised curiosity.
Great. More gossip.
The academy corridors were quieter now, the evening settling in. Soft blue light from the overhead aether lamps painted everything in cool tones.
Vyne chattered as they walked, her voice bright and conversational. "Roan seems strong but straightforward. Probably relies too much on his reversal ability. Liora's showy, all those branching futures—definitely overcompensating for something. And Kieran..." She shuddered slightly. "Creepy. But useful."
Kaelen mostly listened, occasionally asking questions. Vyne had opinions on everyone, delivered with cheerful bluntness.
"You're wondering about my ability, aren't you?" Vyne said suddenly.
Kaelen hesitated. "It's effective."
"That's not an answer." She grinned up at him. "But I'll take it. Don't worry, you'll figure it out eventually. Or you won't. Either way, it'll be fun."
They reached a junction where the corridors split. Kaelen's dorm was to the left. Vyne's, presumably, somewhere else.
She released his arm finally, stepping back with a little wave. "See you Thursday, celebrity. Try not to fight any more heirs before then."
"I'll do my best," Kaelen said dryly.
Vyne walked away, humming something cheerful and off-key, her silver-white hair catching the light as she disappeared around a corner.
Kaelen stood there for a moment, processing the last hour.
Then he turned and headed back to his dorm.
...
The room was quiet when he entered. Familiar and safe.
Kaelen collapsed onto his bed and pulled up his System interface.
[Base Level: 8] (810/1900 XP)
[System Level: 6] (1410/1800 XP)
[HP: 380/380]
[A.E.: 186/425]
[Stat Points: 6]
The aether reserves were the problem. He'd thrown almost everything at Vyne and still came up short. Not because his techniques failed, but because probability itself had bent against him.
How do you fight someone who manipulates chance?
Kaelen closed the interface and stared at the ceiling.
The club was filled with students whose abilities were as strange as his. Some seemed friendly, like Vyne—though her definition of "friendly" was exhausting. Others were neutral, assessing him the way he assessed them. And a few were clearly competitive, already sizing him up as a potential rival.
Instructor Mira was powerful. That much was obvious. But her ability remained a complete mystery. She'd demonstrated nothing, revealed nothing. Just observed with those sharp amber eyes.
Club mission briefing is on Thursday.
And Vyne had apparently decided they were "team bonding."
Kaelen rubbed his temples.
"This," he muttered to the empty room, "is going to be complicated."
He let his eyes drift shut, exhaustion finally catching up.
Tomorrow he'd deal With training and whatever came next.
Tonight, he just needed rest.
Outside his window, the academy's lights shimmered like stars suspended in glass, the city stretching endlessly below.
Somewhere in that vastness, thirty-one other Unique first-years were probably thinking similar thoughts. Wondering about their classmates, their rivals, their futures.
And somewhere, probability itself bent ever so slightly, guided by violet eyes and a smile that promised trouble.