Null hovered an inch above the arena floor, ether still crackling faintly around his fists. Wisps of smoke and distorted air drifted across the damaged ground, but the Great Tree's walls remained pristine—untouched by the violence that had shaken everything else.
The other heirs stood in perfect stillness. Twenty pairs of eyes tracked his slightest movement, calculating threat levels, measuring possibilities. The air felt heavy with unspoken assessments.
His expression settled from battle-joy into something colder. The thrill of combat faded behind a mask of indifference, though a ghost of a smile lingered at the corner of his mouth. That had been fun.
Marcus stood twenty feet away, armor dissolved but dignity intact. His defeat hadn't diminished his presence—if anything, he seemed more dangerous for having tested his limits.
Khaos watched from her perch on a raised root, white eyes bright with curiosity. Her posture suggested a cat deciding whether to play with something interesting.
And Elarion… Elarion approached with deliberate slowness.
"A wonderful display of power," the elf said, hands clasped loosely before him. "I must ask—how much of your ability is inherent, and how much have you trained?"
Null tilted his head slightly. "You've seen mine. How about showing me yours?"
"I am not a fighter." Elarion's smile never wavered. "Engaging in such would be… unproductive."
The word hung between them like a challenge. Not unproductive for Elarion—unproductive for Null. A subtle insult wrapped in politeness.
"Strange," Null said. "Most people who aren't fighters don't host combat tournaments."
"I host gatherings. What my guests choose to do is their decision." Elarion's fingers tapped against his palm—once, twice, three times—a thinking rhythm. "Though I admit, your spatial manipulation is fascinating. The way you fold distance, create gravitational anomalies… it speaks to either incredible training or innate genius."
"Maybe both."
"Or perhaps neither. Perhaps you've found ways to… augment your natural abilities."
Null's eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, the black holes within them seeming to deepen. There it was. The probe. The suggestion that his power wasn't earned.
His smile widened slightly. "Interesting theory. Wrong, but interesting."
Elarion's eyes sharpened. For just a moment, the mask slipped, revealing something colder beneath. Then it reformed, perfect as before.
"Enough talking."
Khaos had moved closer without seeming to move at all, cracking her knuckles with a sound like popping stones. One moment on her perch, the next standing between them. Her child's body moved with the liquid grace of something much older.
"Leave him alone, Elarion." She turned to Null, head tilting. "It's my turn to fight. I didn't think you were that strong—Marcus should have taken you down in one strike."
"Maybe another time," Null said casually. "My ether needs to recharge."
A lie, and they both knew it. The ether around his hands hadn't diminished at all. If anything, it seemed stronger, fed by combat rather than depleted by it. But the lie served its purpose—he'd shown enough for one day.
Khaos circled him slowly, each step deliberate. "Afraid?"
"Cautious."
"Same thing."
"Only to those who've never survived real danger."
She stopped directly in front of him, white eyes searching his black holes. "You have, haven't you? Survived real danger."
Before he could respond, Elarion clapped once.
"The gathering is over," he announced to the room. "I need to explain to my mother why the arena is… damaged. You'll all be returned to your accommodations shortly."
Light flashed. When it faded, most of the heirs had vanished.
But not all.
Null remained, along with seven others. Marcus, Khaos, Elarion, and four he hadn't properly catalogued yet. The strongest ones. The ones who mattered.
"The gathering isn't actually over," Elarion said, dropping the pretense. "That was for the extras. The real conversation happens now."
Another flash of light. The arena disappeared.
They stood in a circular room, eight chairs around a table of polished wood that seemed to drink light. The others sat. Null remained standing.
"Null," Khaos said, her tone different now. Less playful, more serious. "You're strong. Not unbeatable, but strong enough for your age. We want to create something. A group of future kings and queens. The next generation of Nexus. We want you included."
The room pulsed with subtle ether signatures. Each heir radiated potential—not fully realized but unmistakably there. Together, they represented enough power to reshape nations.
"And what does this group intend to do?" Null asked.
Marcus answered, voice carrying quiet authority. "Whatever we want, whenever we want. The academy won't be kind to any of us. Seniors will target you for prestige. Your family name means nothing there. But together? Together we become untouchable."
"Protection through alliance," Null said. "Strength in numbers."
"Strength in the right numbers," Elarion corrected. "We're not gathering followers. We're gathering equals. Or close enough to equal matter."
"So," Khaos leaned forward, "what do you say?"
"No."
As Null spoke, the air around his chair shimmered, distorting the light for a single, silent moment.
"I prefer to be alone," he continued. "My strength is my own. I don't need protection, and I don't offer it."
One of the unnamed heirs scoffed, tapping a scaled finger against the polished wood of the table. "You think you can survive the academy alone? You barely beat Marcus."
Null's gaze shifted to the speaker—a boy with green hair and scales visible at his neck. Dragon-blooded, but not pure.
"I seem to be doing fine."
The boy fell silent.
Marcus stood. "If that's your decision, we respect it. But the offer remains open. The academy changes people's perspectives."
"We'll see."
As Null turned to leave, his first step seemed to fold the distance, bringing him halfway to the door in an instant. Elarion spoke again, his voice carrying a different weight now. Curious. Probing.
"Have you ever heard of a place called Earth?"
The room went still. Every eye locked on Null.
He turned back slowly, expression neutral. "No. Should I have?"
Elarion studied him for a long moment. Those ancient eyes searched for deception, for recognition, for anything. They found nothing.
"No," Elarion said finally. "Just a story I heard once. Aria is waiting outside. She'll take you back. Thank you for coming."
Null nodded and walked through the door that appeared in the wall.
As he left, his mind raced behind his calm exterior. Earth. They knew about Earth. Which meant…
They were reincarnated too.
A small smile formed on his lips. Not visible to Aria, who waited in the corridor. Not visible to anyone.
But there. Real. Genuinely amused.
The game had just become much more interesting.