The training gauntlet smelled like scorched quartz, ozone, and sweat.
Spanning nearly two kilometers of compressed terrain simulation, the Resonance Obstacle Array loomed like a battlefield dreaming of past wars. It was here cadets would be tested not just on power, but alignment—how their echoes interacted. Or combusted.
A tone rang out.
"Cohort Trial: Multi-Order Synchronization," barked Instructor Kaiden "Wildfire", Hybrid-born and half storm himself. "Six cadets. Randomized affinity zones. Adapt or fail."
He didn't say survive, but it was implied.
Kai stepped into the grid, breath sharp.
Beside him, five others emerged from different entries:
Nandi Maseko, hesitant but focused, her glyph-inlaid gloves twitching as she warmed her voice.Jian Li, every syllable of his breathing pattern refined.Sarika Moyo, eyes skyward, rain mist gathering at her fingertips.Amara al-Rashid, already holding ink-drawn glyphs coiled along her wrists like serpents.And Izel Itzcuintli, face unreadable, scroll slung beside her like a memory she hadn't opened.
"Begin."
The terrain shifted. Six different resonance fields activated—one for each cadet's affinity.
Zone One: Songfield Pulse. Nandi stepped inside. Immediately, feedback screamed through the air—her voice snagged mid-chant.
"Too many frequencies," she muttered.
Kai moved to steady her, but Jian snapped, "Not your zone. Hold your line."
Zone Two: Structural Shift. Jian's field was shaped like a harmonic prism—every step recalibrated gravity by tone. He adapted, surgical.
Zone Three: Mistfront Flow. Sarika's domain—until it wasn't. The mist thickened too fast. Her emotions flared, and the gentle rain turned acidic. Her arm flinched; droplets hissed against the ground.
Amara leapt to cover her, writing mid-air.
"ⵓ𐤀𐡏."
Three sand-wolves surged forward, absorbing the mist with glowing jaws.
Zone Four: Corrupted Glyphstream. Izel entered—and paused.
The glyphs glitched. Memory imprints scrambled past and future. She froze.
Kai lunged toward her, but something else moved faster.
The Dead Portal beneath the gauntlet pulsed. Just once.
Then Kai's resonance spiked.
Not in reaction. In defiance.
Fire burst from his shoulder, not shaped, just born. It didn't strike anyone—but it hummed. And in that hum—
A voice.
Only Izel heard it.
He doesn't belong, but he echoes true...
The pulse collapsed.
Instructor Kaiden didn't pause. He stepped forward, signal-rods raised, stabilizing the grid with practiced precision.
"Training terminated. You didn't fail." A glance at the still-smoldering stone. "You just weren't ready for what was buried here."
He looked straight at Kai.
"That wasn't an overcharge."
"That was a handshake."
The rest of the First Chorus said nothing.
But something had shifted.
Not unity.
Awareness.