The gates of Wosbildung Academy loomed like the teeth of some ancient beast, tall and iron-black. Above them, the kingdom's crest — a burning sun over a silver crown — gleamed in the morning light.
Kiro stood with his hands in his pockets, helmet visor down, as the officer from before ushered him forward. The courtyard beyond was vast, filled with students in tailored uniforms, their Talents on display like badges.
One boy idly floated a sphere of water between his palms. Another girl's hair shimmered with static, crackling faintly.
Everywhere Kiro looked, power shimmered.And then there was him.The "late-bloomer."
"Orientation's in Hall Three," the officer said, before striding away.
Kiro made his way through the courtyard, ignoring the stares. Whispers followed him — not because they knew who he was, but because of what they saw:No glow of energy. No aura. Just… nothing.
Inside Hall Three, a tall instructor stood on the platform. Her voice was sharp and clear.
"Welcome, Class Tau. You are here because your Talents are… uncertain. That ends now. You will either prove your worth or be removed."
The room fell silent.
Her gaze swept over them — and lingered on Kiro.
They started with the Gauge Test. Students stood one by one in front of a crystal pillar, placing their hand on it. The crystal lit up with colors and patterns depending on the Talent's nature.
A boy stepped up — the pillar flared red and gold. "Pyrokinetic," the instructor said.
A girl followed — the pillar swirled blue. "Hydromancer."
Then it was Kiro's turn.
He placed his hand on the cool surface.Nothing happened.
The instructor's lips tightened. "No reading."
Whispers rippled through the room. Someone in the back chuckled.
Kiro stepped away, expression unreadable behind his visor.
The second test was Combat Aptitude.
The instructor led them to a sparring ring. "Defend yourself. Show us what you can do."
His opponent was a tall boy with stone-colored skin — literally. A geokinetic.
"Try not to get crushed," the boy smirked.
The bell rang.
The boy came in fast, fist like a boulder. Kiro sidestepped, reading the golden thread that tied the boy's center of balance to his next move.
Shift weight left.The boy stumbled, overcommitting.
Kiro tapped his shoulder lightly — not enough to hurt, just enough to make a point.
The instructor's eyes narrowed. "Again."
This time, the boy kept his stance tight. Kiro reached out with his mind, pulling at the thread that governed his sense of timing.
Hesitate.
The boy's punch came half a second late — and Kiro slipped inside his guard, palm pressing to the boy's chest.
"Match over," the instructor said.
As the class moved on, she stopped Kiro at the edge of the ring.
"No Talent," she said quietly, "and yet you win. I've seen that before — but not often."
Kiro met her gaze through the visor. "Maybe I'm lucky."
Her lips curved faintly. "Luck doesn't pull strings, Null."
By the time the session ended, Kiro knew two things:
They weren't going to underestimate him.
They weren't going to let him walk away.
That night, in the dorm assigned to him, Kiro sat on the bed, visor still down. Outside, the Academy was silent — but in the golden-thread world of his mind, there were shapes moving.
Someone was watching.Not just from the shadows — from inside the building.
And they weren't alone.