Four months passed like a blur.
The academy grounds had grown quiet. The usual chatter was replaced by focused silence. Everyone—rookies and returners alike—was deep in preparation, sharpening their skills, honing their mana control, and building bonds that might be tested in the crucible to come.
Inside the training yard beneath the fading amber sky, the clang of weapons echoed.
Tyrone stood with sweat dripping from his brow, his hands tightly gripping a blade crackling faintly with energy.
Tyrone: "Four months of nonstop training… we better be ready."
Lihanna leaned against a nearby tree, catching her breath, her eyes scanning the horizon with a quiet resolve.
Lihanna: "We've all gotten stronger. We're not the same people who stood in that dorm hall asking what factions even meant."
Across the field, Mia channeled her elemental affinity with precision, launching bursts of air with a grace she never had before.
Mia: "It's more than just getting chosen now… this is about proving that we belong."
Felicia X, now sporting a newer uniform marked with faint crimson sigils, stepped into the center of the group, eyes burning with focus.
Felicia X: "Tomorrow, we step onto the island. No second chances. If you hold back, you'll fall behind."
The group fell silent, the weight of the moment washing over them. This was no longer a drill. No more simulations, no more trial runs. Tomorrow, they would be judged—by the island, by the Vandors, and by fate itself.
Nile approached from the side, a rare smile tugging at his lips as he addressed the gathered students.
Nile: "You've come far. Most don't survive the training—let alone thrive in it. I'll be watching your progress from afar. Make your mark… or be forgotten."
As the sun dipped behind the academy towers, shadows lengthened across the courtyard. The wind picked up, carrying the scent of distant rain and a tension that only warriors could recognize.
Tomorrow, the island would test their hearts.
And only the worthy would be chosen.