Shion stood in the arena, staring at Nayen Krayth like she was a final exam he forgot to study for.
She moved with the kind of confidence that said she'd already won. Loose stance. Predator eyes. The whole package.
"The quiet one," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Your friends put on quite a show. Let's see if you're worth the wait."
Shion stayed silent, mostly because he didn't trust his voice not to crack.
Sensei Laen raised his hand. "Ready?"
They both nodded.
"Begin!"
Nayen moved first. Not a reckless charge. She was testing him, circling left, making Shion pivot to follow
Great. She actually knows what she's doing.
Shion raised his hands and reached for his Essence. That universal energy that connected all Virelians to the world around them. The thing that was supposed to make him feel powerful.
His flickered like a dying lightbulb.
He focused on the space between them and pulled. His ability—Spectral Refrain—answered. A translucent copy of Nayen appeared in front of him, ghostly and half-formed. It mimicked her stance for maybe three seconds before dissolving into nothing.
The crowd reacted immediately.
"Did you see that?"
"Wait, what was that supposed to do?"
"Is that his ability?"
Nayen stopped, raising an eyebrow. "That's it?" She didn't sound mad. She sounded amused. "You make little ghost drawings?"
Heat rushed to Shion's face.
"I can do more than that," he said, and immediately regretted how defensive he sounded.
"Show me then."
She moved. Her hands ignited with crimson fire that didn't burn wild...it coiled tight and controlled. The heat distorted the air around her fists as she closed the distance in three quick steps.
Shion tried to dodge, but his body felt heavy and slow. The punch caught him in the ribs...not the fist itself, but the coils of flame wrapped around it. The wind got knocked out of his chest, and he stumbled backward.
Pain shot through his side. Not burns...something worse. The fire clung to his torso like living chains, restricting his movement and making it hard to breathe.
"That's Flamebind," Nayen explained casually, like they were having a conversation instead of a fight. "My Birthright ability. Fire that restrains instead of destroys. The more you struggle, the tighter it gets."
She was right. As soon as Shion tried to move, the flames constricted more.
He could hear Itsuki shouting something from the crowd. Encouragement that felt hollow when he could barely move.
Okay. Think. There's gotta be a pattern here.
Shion forced himself to breathe slowly, conserving what little Essence he had left. He watched Nayen...her stance, her hand placement, the subtle shift of her weight before she moved.
He pulled again, harder this time. Another echo appeared—Nayen's ghostly image flickering into existence beside the real one. This one lasted longer. Almost six seconds. It showed her next three moves in quick succession: fake left, pivot right, straight punch to his head.
There.
When Nayen moved exactly like the echo predicted, Shion was ready. He sidestepped the punch and rolled away, creating space. The Flamebind loosened slightly...just enough to breathe.
"Better," Nayen said. "Now it's getting interesting."
But it wasn't enough. Shion knew it. His hands were shaking.
He tried to summon another echo to predict her next attack. The form appeared but incomplete...showing half her movement before dissolving into nothing. His Essence reserves were draining fast.
Every Virelian knew the universal truth: their power came from Essence, the living energy that connected them to the world. But Essence wasn't infinite. Push it too hard, and you'd be left defenseless.
Shion was hitting empty.
Nayen's flames burned steady and strong. Her Essence reserves were clearly deeper, her control more refined. Every movement showed she was at least Tier 2...where control became instinct.
Shion was barely holding onto Tier 1.
The difference wasn't just skill.
It was fundamental.
Nayen struck again, and this time Shion was too slow. Her flame-wrapped fist hit his shoulder, and new bindings coiled around his arm. Then his leg. Then his other arm.
THOOM! THOOM!
Each strike added another layer of restriction until he could barely move at all.
"You've got good instincts," Nayen said, standing in front of him without a scratch. "Good tactical sense. But you're holding back. Like you're scared to really use your power."
She was right. The crowd knew it.
Shion knew it.
Years of training. Studying combat theory. Believing that intelligence could overcome raw power. All of it useless when facing someone who just had more.
More Essence. More power. More everything.
"Yield," Nayen said quietly, and there was something almost kind in her voice. "There's no shame in it."
Shion could see his friends in the crowd. Itsuki leaning forward, worried. Kairo's unreadable expression. Takumi shouting encouragement that sounded miles away.
They'd both won their matches. Both proved themselves.
And here he was, bound and helpless, unable to put up a real fight.
Something cold settled in Shion's chest. A whisper that said he'd always known this moment would come. That some people were born with limits they couldn't break.
"I yield," he said, and the words tasted like ash.
The flames died instantly. Nayen helped him to his feet, genuine respect in her eyes. "You've got potential. Keep training."
Shion barely heard her. The applause around them felt hollow. Even the announcer calling Nayen's victory sounded distant.
He limped back toward his friends, still trying to catch his breath.
Before he could say anything, all three of them started clapping.
"Beautiful," Takumi said, wiping a fake tear. "Truly inspiring."
Kairo held up his sketchbook. He'd drawn a stick figure on fire with the caption: SHION'S FIGHTING CAREER (2 MINUTES)
"I hate all of you," Shion muttered.
"Hey, you lasted longer than we thought," Takumi said. "We had bets going. Kairo said thirty seconds. I gave you a full minute."
Shion stared at them. "You bet on how fast I'd lose?"
"Obviously," Kairo said. "What else were we supposed to do? Root for you?"
"YES!"
"Unrealistic," Takumi said. "You were fighting Nayen. That's like a mouse challenging a flamethrower."
"I TRIED!"
"Did you though?" Itsuki asked. "Because it looked like you were auditioning for a campfire."
Shion groaned and sat down. "She destroyed me."
"Yeah, we noticed," Kairo said. "Especially that part where you got wrapped up like a burrito."
"A spicy burrito," Takumi added, grinning.
All three of them lost it.
"I'm leaving," Shion said, standing up.
"Wait wait," Takumi grabbed his arm, his grin softening. "You did good, man. Nayen's a monster. The fact you figured out her pattern at all? That's impressive."
"Yeah," Itsuki agreed. "Most people don't even last long enough to think. You actually adapted."
Kairo nodded. "Your problem isn't skill. It's just... everything else."
"Wow, Inspiring."
Shion couldn't help it. He laughed. Just a little. "You guys are idiots."
"And you're stuck with us," Takumi said, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "So suffer."
They started walking toward the exit together, arguing and shoving each other.
The announcements continued. More names called.
Shion's name never came.
He noticed. Of course he noticed.
But with these three idiots beside him, it didn't sting as much.
"Alright, celebration time," Takumi said. "Where we eating?"
"Nowhere expensive," Kairo said. "I'm broke."
"You bought a fancy tea set last month, And you don't even drink tea!"
"They were on sale dude and cheap too"
Shion walked between them, listening to them bicker, and realized something.
Yeah, he'd lost. Yeah, he didn't make it into Zenkai Dojo.
But he had this.
"Hey," he said quietly. "Thanks."
Takumi glanced at him. "For what?"
"For being terrible friends."
Itsuki grinned. "Anytime, man."
They turned down the street together, and for the first time that day, Shion felt like maybe everything would be okay.
Even if he did get cooked like a rotisserie chicken.