Chapter 18: The College Examination begins
The atmosphere at Aegis Academy had shifted from academic tension to the heavy, suffocating weight of an impending deployment. Two days before the official start of the National Entrance Exams, the graduating class was summoned to the grand courtyard. This was the "Gathering of the Vanguard," a tradition meant to steel the nerves of those about to represent Terra on the intergalactic stage.
Roman Dawson walked through the academy gates, and the very air seemed to yield to his presence. The advancement to the Aperture Opening rank—the second major stage of the Hunter-Tamer path—had fundamentally rewritten his biological code. His skin, once sallow and marked by the grit of the slums, now possessed a translucent, marble-like quality. It was as if his very cells had been reinforced with the same high-density alloys used in the hulls of interstellar cruisers. He stood no taller, yet his presence was massive, his frame corded with lean muscle that held the coiled tension of a dormant lightning storm.
Behind the clouded film of his eyes, his True Sight was no longer a mere sensory substitute; it was a high-definition tactical radar. He could "see" the molecular vibrations of the stone pillars, the flickering data-packets in the academy's local net, and the frantic, terrified heartbeats of the underclassmen watching from the balconies. He didn't need to tap his cane. He moved with the silent, terrifying grace of a predator that had finally shed its mortal skin to reveal the cosmic engine beneath.
The courtyard was a sea of silver and blue uniforms. John stood like a monolith on Roman's right. The 5-star feedback from the Abyssal Edge had turned him into a living gravity-well. The very dust on the pavement didn't settle at his feet; it orbited his boots in tiny, swirling rings, caught in a perpetual dance of displaced mass. Beside him, Ellen was a flickering candle of raw heat. Her hair shimmered with the orange-gold hue of a dying star, and the air around her blurred as the Cinder-Wing Kestrel in her soul-space radiated a concentrated thermal energy.
Then, the crowd parted for a luxury hover-car.
Brent Miller stepped out, his chin high, draped in the finest flux-conductive silk money could buy. Having utilized a 4-Star Perfect Evolution Plan provided by the Miller treasury, Brent had pushed himself and his beast into the Aperture Opening rank. To any ordinary student, Brent was a god—polished, powerful, and sharp.
But as he approached Roman's group, the Miller scion's expression faltered. Roman's True Sight dissected him instantly. Brent's aura was indeed "Perfect" by Terran standards—bright and stable like a high-powered spotlight. However, compared to the 5-star sovereign auras of Roman, John, and Ellen, he looked dim. The trio radiated a localized, primordial pressure that made Brent's 4-star foundation feel like a well-crafted toy standing next to industrial machinery. Brent sensed the suppression; his hand tightened on his belt, his ego bruised by an invisible weight he couldn't explain.
Instructor Kael stood on a raised dais, his massive arms crossed. Above him, a holographic projector displayed the cold, spinning emblem of the United Human Federation (UHF).
"Look at yourselves!" Kael's voice boomed. "Two days from now, you cease being students. You become candidates for the stars. The UHF has finalized the format. You will face a four-hour theoretical gauntlet followed by an immediate departure to a hostile Star Realm planet. Many of you will not return."
He gestured to four metallic cases resting on a table nearby. "The Academy has requisitioned specialized gear for those who have shown the highest potential. We are a backwater school, but we won't send our finest into the meat grinder without teeth."
He opened the first case, revealing a massive, towering Shield made of Titan-alloy and gravitational mesh. "For John. A wall to match your Abyssal defense."
He opened the second, pulling out a sleek Fire Bow crafted from heat-resistant composites. "For Ellen. To channel the sun you carry in your soul."
He turned to the third case, presenting a vibrating, needle-thin Rapier. "For Brent. A blade for the precision of the Miller style."
Finally, he turned to Roman. He pulled out a straight-edged Lightning Sword. The blade was a dark, storm-cloud grey, but as Roman's hand neared it, jagged arcs of violet static leapt from the metal to his fingers. It was a weapon designed to be a literal extension of his Lightning Embodiment.
"Take these," Kael whispered as they stepped forward. "Familiarize yourselves with them over the next forty-eight hours. They are your lifelines."
Forty-eight hours later, the sirens of the Sector 4 Orphanage wailed with a different intensity. It was the morning of the exam.
In the dim light of their shared cubicle, Roman watched John frantically trying to decide which of their meager belongings were worth taking. The orphanage rules stated they had to vacate their bunks the moment they left for the UHF transport.
"We can't take the blankets, John. They belong to the state," Ellen said, her voice tight with nerves as she packed a small locket and a spare pair of boots.
John held a notched wooden spoon and a small, hand-carved figurine of a beast—the only toys they had ever known. "I feel like I'm leaving my whole life behind."
"We are," Roman said, standing by the door. "That's the point."
With a casual flick of his wrist, Roman's Storage Ring—the silver band he'd kept hidden under his sleeve—flashed with a cold, violet spark. In a silent fold of space-time, John and Ellen's small bundles, along with the few essentials Roman had gathered, vanished into the spatial fold.
John stared at his empty hands, then at Roman. "I still can't get used to that. A storage ring... in a place like this."
"It's not a luxury," Roman replied, his True Sight tracing the flux lines of the ring. "It's a vault for our future. Let's go. The hall opens in thirty minutes."
At exactly 6:00 AM, the students were seated in the Aegis auditorium. Individual flux-shields rose around each desk, creating a private, soundproof cubicle.
6:00 AM - 7:00 AM: Intergalactic Biology
The questions were a barrage of alien anatomy. Calculate the regeneration rate of a Void-Hulk's heart.Identify the three primary weaknesses of a Nebula Swarm. To Roman, this was child's play. His past life as Arthur, combined with his SSS-rank perception, allowed him to see the biological "truth" behind the questions. He finished in twenty minutes, his mind already calculating the energy requirements for the jump to lightspeed.
7:00 AM - 8:00 AM: Soul-Geometry
This was the math of the universe. Map the resonance frequency between a Rank 2 Tamer and a multi Elemental beast. Roman didn't just calculate the answer; he derived the formula from the first principles of the Azure Dragon Stone. He described the "Frictionless Path" of energy—a concept usually reserved for Rank 5 Masters. The system's AI flagged his answers as "Highly Anomalous," yet logically flawless.
8:00 AM - 9:00 AM: Flux-Dynamics
The physics of energy. Roman described the flow of flux not as a liquid, but as a language. He explained how to bypass traditional resistance in a Rank 2 Aperture, a theory that would eventually become known as the Dawson Constant. While other students were sweating over basic circuitry, Roman was mapping the thermal dissipation of a star-core.
9:00 AM - 10:00 AM: Beast Tactics
The final hour. Scenario: You are surrounded by three Rank 2 predators in a low-oxygen environment. Outline your survival strategy. Roman's answer was a masterclass in predatory efficiency. He didn't suggest "defense" or "stalling." He outlined a three-second execution window that utilized the environment as a weapon.
At 10:00 AM, the shields dropped. The auditorium was filled with the sound of frantic typing. Instructor Kael walked to the center of the stage, holding a stack of glowing red tablets.
"Before you leave," Kael said, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly rumble, "you must sign this. It is a mandatory requirement from the UHF Ministry."
Roman looked at his tablet. The header read: FORM 77-B: VOLUNTARY PARTICIPATION AND LIFE-WAIVER.
"This is not a formality," Kael warned. "This is a death warrant. By signing this, you acknowledge that the Federation, the Ministry, and Aegis Academy are not held accountable for your death, the permanent shattering of your soul-core, or your disappearance in the Star Realm. The practical exam this year is a live-fire exercise in a Rank 3 Hazardous Zone."
A heavy silence descended. Several students began to tremble.
"If you die," Kael continued relentlessly, "your families will receive a standard funerary payout and nothing more. No lawsuits. No retribution. If you know you are too weak, if you know your beast is unstable, or if you simply value your life more than a seat at a Core University—DO NOT SIGN. You can register at the local universities on Terra. But if you step onto that transport at 11:00 AM, the galaxy will treat you as a soldier, not a child."
Roman didn't hesitate. He placed his thumb on the biometric scanner, his Overlord Soul pulsing with a cold, absolute certainty. The tablet chimed, turning green. Beside him, John and Ellen followed suit.
Brent Miller, sensing the trio's unwavering resolve, felt a surge of prideful fury. Despite his 4-star aura feeling suppressed by their presence, he slammed his thumb onto the scanner. He was a Miller; he refused to be left behind on a "backwater" planet.
At 10:00 AM, the shields fell completely, and the students were given their final hour. It was a chaotic scene—some students were crying into their communicators, while others were huddled in groups, praying.
Roman, John, and Ellen stood at the edge of the landing pad. They had no one to call. The orphanage had already reassigned their bunks to the next wave of children. They were truly untethered.
"The shuttle is here," Roman said.
His True Sight picked it up first—a black needle piercing the clouds, descending with a sound like a tearing silk sheet. The UHF Raven Transport landed with a roar, its engines scorching the asphalt. A squad of armored UHF Peacekeepers stepped out, their visors reflecting the harsh morning light.
"All candidates who have signed the waiver, board now!" the lead officer commanded. "Destination: NS-Sovereign. Practical site: Locked."
Roman stepped onto the ramp, the weight of the Lightning Sword on his back and the Aperture Opening power in his chest humming in resonance with the ship's flux-engines. He looked back at Terra one last time. It looked small. It looked fragile.
Goodbye, Arthur, he thought, shedding the last remnants of his past life as an elite researcher. Welcome to the Galaxy, Roman.
The engines erupted in a pillar of violet light, and the Raven surged upward, piercing the atmosphere and heading toward the massive carrier ship waiting in orbit. The "broken assets" were gone; the predators were on their way to the stars.