The private chamber was silent, save for the quiet hum of the holoscreen as it displayed the live feed. The Dean sat alone, his presence a stark contrast to the opulent halls of the Academy. His office was not one of grandeur but of purpose—functional designs with a singular focus on efficiency. He had never been one for excess. Power was not asured in ornantation but in influence, and few in the Confederacy wielded more than him.
He hadn't been this excited in years. On the screen, Orion Reyes' score stood as an anomaly.
1,000 Academy Credits.
It's not like it's impossible to get 1,000 credits before the Academy starts—so have achieved it, though only as a result of the two trials' scores being combined. But only two people did so in the Gala even before the first trial.
The official on the other end of the transmission stood at attention, awaiting instruction. The Dean did not acknowledge them imdiately. His eyes remained fixed on the data.
Orion Reyes had simply exceeded expectations.
The last person to achieve sothing comparable was his own adoptive daughter.
The Dean exhaled slowly. He was not a man easily impressed, nor one to make decisions based on sentint. For decades, he had shaped the Academy into what it was—a proving ground for the Confederacy's elite. He had seen the ambitious and the arrogant, the gifted and the desperate. He had seen those who thought their nas alone would carry them, and those who believed raw strength made them invincible.
But Orion Reyes had demonstrated sothing neither privilege nor brute force could replicate—conviction.
The Dean finally addressed the waiting official. His voice was calm, deliberate. "I wonder if he could back his words."
A brief hesitation on the other end. "He's reckless, but—"
"But he should understand the weight of his own words," the Dean finished. He leaned back slightly, a glint of sothing almost like amusent flickering in his otherwise unreadable expression.
The official shifted. "What would you have us do?"
A pause. A decision.
The Dean entered a command into the system and spoke through the comms, his voice carrying an undeniable weight. "Any Special Candidate who eliminates Orion Reyes in the upcoming trials will inherit his Academy Credits."
Not a punishnt. A test.
A test not of brute force, but of resilience. Of adaptability.
The Academy was not a place that destroyed its students—it was a forge, a crucible where only the strongest erged sharpened, tempered. If Orion Reyes wished to change the rules, then he would have to prove he could survive them.
The Dean would be watching.
A second voice spoke from the entrance.
Cassian Reyes.
The chamber shifted. The air grew heavier, colder.
Draped in the deep burgundy attire of the Reyes family, his presence alone commanded absolute attention. Each step he took echoed like a hamr striking steel. He was not just the Chancellor of House Reyes. He was a legend, a strategist without equal, a warrior whose victories had rewritten the very fabric of warfare.
And now, he stood here, in this very hall.
Cassian let out a low chuckle, his voice deep and asured. "My little star has really outdone himself.
Orion froze.
A thousand mories crashed into him at once. The way that nickna always seed to drag him back to childhood.
Behind him, the Archon children reacted—so with disbelief, so with poorly masked fear.
Nyra stiffened in her seat, her expression caught between uncertainty and a trained neutrality. She wasn't sure how to react.
Elias felt his throat go dry.
Ares, always brash, gritted his teeth.
Renata, ever composed, subtly analyzed Cassian the way one might size up a storm on the horizon. Her posture remained flawless, but there was a slight, involuntary hesitation—as if she were weighing his reputation against the quiet, instinctive dread of eting the eyes of a predator.
And then there was Ingrid.
She rose from her seat, placing her hand against her forehead and bowing deeply.
"I greet the Chancellor." She greeted, her voice steady.
Cassian returned her gesture with a small nod, then turned his full attention back to Orion.
Orion, who was still standing there, face burning.
He hated that nickna.
It had been almost two years since he had seen his father, the ti swallowed by Cassian's relentless obligations dealing with the Codex Chrysallis.
"Tsk. What a show-off." Orion exhaled sharply, arms crossing over his chest. His jaw tightened, but a faint blush betrayed him.
Cassian took another step forward, standing now just within reach of his son. Orion refused to look directly at him, eyes shifting slightly to the side—like a child trying to appear unaffected.
"Do you think so?" Cassian asked, amusent laced in his tone.
Orion scoffed.
The Archon children, still processing what they had just witnessed, remained utterly silent. None of them had ever seen Orion Reyes look like that.
He turned his gaze away, deliberately ignoring the man who had just disrupted the room.
The academy official took this as his cue, clearing his throat before stepping forward. The murmurs quieted as he raised a data slate in his hands.
"The Dean has reached a decision regarding the trials. Any Special Candidate who eliminates Orion Reyes in the upcoming trials will inherit his Academy Credits." the official announced, his voice echoing through the chamber.
All eyes snapped forward, the weight of the mont pressing down on every soul present.
Orion exhaled, pushing all thoughts of his father to the side.
Now, this was what mattered.
Ares swore under his breath, his stance shifting instinctively. Nyra's expression darkened. Elias, still recovering from his earlier loss, let out a quiet chuckle. Ingrid simply watched Orion, her expression unreadable.
Orion let the silence stretch, feeling the weight of their attention on him. He had expected a reaction from the Academy, but this? This was nothing like he had anticipated. He had just been turned into a walking bounty.
For a mont, no one spoke. They were all assessing the situation, running the calculations. If any one of them took him down, they would claim his credits. But the implications ran deeper than that.
Orion folded his arms, shaking his head in amusent. H asked, his voice carrying a note of curiosity. "And if the one who eliminates gets eliminated?"
A brief silence followed before the official responded, their tone neutral. "Then no one gets anything," the official responded flatly.
Orion absorbed the answer, his mind already shifting through possibilities. He had asked the question not just to clarify the stakes but to gauge the Academy's intentions. If his elimination ant the credits vanished entirely, then this was not just about testing him—it was about testing the other heirs as well.
Now, the other candidates faced a dilemma—they could either form alliances with one another to increase their chances of taking him down, or they could approach Orion himself, hoping to secure an alliance with the most targeted individual in the trials.
Orion exhaled slowly, his smirk barely visible. "So... who's going to take the first shot?"
Nyra's eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn't answer. Ares let out a low chuckle. "Well, at least now it'll be fun."
Orion t his gaze, unbothered. "You say that like it wasn't fun before."
"If you really want to survive this," Ingrid said, her voice asured, "then you're going to have to be more than just clever."
Orion tilted his head slightly. "Is that concern I hear?"
She didn't answer, but sothing in her gaze told him she wasn't entirely dismissing his chances either.
The room remained thick with tension, but Orion knew one thing for certain—
The hunt had begun.
Orion smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Although it's very hard to part with 500 credits, since I have no idea how much they're actually worth." he mused, letting the weight of the number settle over the chamber. He let the silence stretch before his smirk sharpened. "But it seems I have no choice."
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