[Scene: Garden of Passage – The President's Arrival]
Under the drooping arms of the willow tree, Whisper's Light rested.
Six shadows cast by fake sunlight.
Kael (half-grinning): "It's getting crowded out here now."
Arjun (glancing around): "You bet. Even with all this space, feels like everyone's finally crawled out of the last chamber."
Katrina's gaze flicked toward a new group in the distance — tired but smiling faces stepping into the open.
Katrina (flatly): "Probably the trials have ended."
Eron tossed the remains of his apple. Rhask hadn't uncrossed his arms in a while. Solis kept watching the edge of the field — quiet, focused, sensing something.
And then it hit them.
A weight.
Not physical — not quite.
Like the pressure before a storm. Invisible, undeniable.
No one spoke.
But everyone felt it.
Six backs straightened. Six hearts sharpened.
Their eyes scanned.
Something — someone — had arrived.
Then… a voice. Not from above. Not from the air. Just loud — real — echoing from somewhere deeper in the garden.
Voice (booming from a distance): "The President of the A.L.E. is present. All passed candidates, gather immediately."
No fanfare. No trumpets. Just a call — and the pull of authority.
The six stood as one.
They followed the tide of footsteps, a wave of murmurs and dust and heartbeat anticipation.
And then they saw him.
No throne. No pedestal.
Just a man.
Late thirties, maybe. Sharp jaw, light tan skin, short hair pushed back carelessly. He wore pale linen — soft summer clothes, not built for battle. No medals. No cape.
Behind him stood three bodyguards. Not uniformed. Not decorative.
Dead-eyed. Lethal.
But he didn't need them.
Because when he looked at the crowd — they listened.
President: "I believe everyone who passed… and submitted their application… is now here."
His voice was like steady thunder. No mic, no amplification — yet it carried. Clean. Controlled.
President: "This exam, as many of you know, is a test of your instincts. Your resolve. Your worth."
"Only a handful of guilds reach Veilstream each year."
"And this exam is the first step towards it."
He began walking slowly. Not pacing — just moving like his words shaped the ground itself.
President: "This exam has existed for forty years."
"And every time, we think we've seen the best. Every time, we're proven wrong."
He paused, scanning the faces.
President: "You proved us wrong again."
"You — who crawled through those trials. Who watched teammates fall. Who stood back up."
A hum passed through the candidates. Breath held. Shoulders lifted.
President: "I'm confident in the future of this world..."
"Confident in the future of Veilstream..."
His eyes landed for a moment — just a flicker — on Katrina, then Rhask, then Solis.
President: "Because of people like you."
And finally—
He raised one hand, palm open, not clenched.
President: "Together… let's erase the evil that stains this world."
No cheers followed.
Not yet.
Because the weight hadn't left.
And deep inside every candidate — even the fearless — one realization pulsed:
This was just the beginning.
[Scene: Whisper's Light Ship – Midday, One Day Later]
The sky was still. No waves. Just whitewashed clouds brushing the horizon — like the world itself was waiting.
Inside the lounge cabin of Whisper's Light, Katrina sat with one leg folded under her, a thick novel open in her lap.
Not fantasy. Not history.
Strategy.
Her finger tapped the corner of the page like a heartbeat.
Across from her, Ashen sat sprawled on the couch, chewing on a dried fruit stick.
Ashen: "You sure you guys passed?"
Katrina didn't look up.
Ashen (eyeing her): "You're not lying to Master Madhav, are you?"
Nothing. Just a turn of the page.
Ashen: "Giving false hope is worse than cruel reality, you know."
That got her attention.
Slow.
Mechanical.
She closed the book.
Stood up.
And in one fluid motion, grabbed Ashen by the ankle — flipping him upside down like a bag of laundry. The fruit stick dropped.
Katrina (firm, flat): "I told you. We all passed the trials."
She held him there, one hand, no effort.
Katrina: "And the main exams start in fifteen days."
Ashen (dangling): "…On what planet?"
Katrina: "On an island. South of Brevia."
[Flashback: Garden of Passage – Minutes After the Speech]
The A.L.E. President dropped his hand to his side.
Then, with the same casual calm he arrived with, he continued:
President: "Two hundred of you passed."
A soft ripple moved through the crowd.
President: "The next phase — the true exams — begin in fifteen days."
"More details will be distributed shortly."
He stepped back.
And without warning, half a dozen officials emerged from the trees. Dark coats. White gloves. Silent.
Each one carried a sealed tube in hand.
They began moving through the crowd — no words, just efficiency — handing a rolled map to every survivor.
Officials: "Reach the marked island in fifteen days."
Katrina took hers with a nod, unrolling it carefully.
Katrina (muttering): "…It's that nameless island. Just south of Brevia."
No borders. No towns. Just jagged coasts and deep forest inked in green.
The kind of place that swallowed secrets.
[Scene: Whisper's Light Ship – Present]
Ashen was back on the couch now, rubbing his head. Katrina had dropped him like a sack of potatoes once she was done.
Katrina sat back down beside him, reopening her book like nothing happened.
Ashen (grumbling): "You could've just said all that without the judo throw."
Katrina (without looking up): "You could've shut up three questions ago."