The storm in the Wild Grid had passed, but the silence it left behind was worse.
No applause, no ceremony — just the hum of drones collecting bodies and the quiet rain tapping on the broken earth.
Rynn sat on a chunk of fallen stone, staring at his reflection in a puddle.
It didn't quite move the way he did.
He looked away before it could finish blinking.
---
The Hall of Results
The Guild didn't bother with celebration.
Candidates were herded into a vast hall lined with fractured mirrors, each one glowing faintly with light.
Names rippled across the glass like dying fireflies — blue for "Passed," red for "Failed."
Rynn's flashed white.
The examiner, an older man with voice like gravel, barely looked up from his tablet.
> "Kael Renn — Passed.
Rynn Vale — Conditional Pass.
Lyra Sen — License Suspended.
Jun Tenar — Disqualified.
Isha Vorn — Restricted."
He clicked the device off. "You'll be contacted if the Guild finds you useful."
That was it. No speeches. No medals.
---
The Farewells
They weren't given a group exit.
The Guild separated everyone by "classification" — different hallways, different futures.
Rynn's was narrow and dim, the kind of hallway you didn't return from twice.
Halfway through it, he heard footsteps behind him.
Lyra caught up, goggles swinging from her neck.
"You look like you're about to confess to a crime," she said.
Rynn smiled faintly. "I was just wondering if they'll remember us."
She snorted. "Please. They can barely remember their own names under those helmets."
Then she pressed something small into his palm — a metal gear with her initials scratched into it.
"For luck. Or revenge. Whichever pays better."
Before he could answer, she was already gone, boots echoing down the corridor.
---
Jun came next, yawning like someone who'd just failed a nap, not an exam.
"They told me I'm too unpredictable to serve the Guild's mission."
"Meaning what?" Rynn asked.
"Meaning I made too many friends."
Jun grinned. "Guess I'll make more. That'll teach 'em."
He started walking backward down his own hall. "Try not to die, alright? You're too small to haunt me."
Rynn laughed, and it echoed long after Jun vanished from view.
---
Kael was last. Calm, polished, carrying a sealed case that probably held something dangerous.
"They've assigned me to Research Division," he said flatly. "I'll be working on Mirra behavior and relic responses."
"That sounds like… a prison with better lighting."
Kael gave a half-smile. "Pretty accurate."
He paused. "You should know, the Guild doesn't like things it can't categorize. Be careful what you show them."
"Pretty sure they already don't like me," Rynn said.
Kael nodded once. "Then we have something in common."
And walked away.
Isha didn't say goodbye at all — but later, when Rynn checked his satchel, he found a folded piece of paper.
> "Don't forget why you wanted the sky."
– Isha
---
The Reflection Gate
The exit wasn't a door, but a sheet of liquid glass stretching floor to ceiling.
The Reflection Gate.
Each candidate had to walk through it once — a scan that recorded their "truth."
When Rynn stepped forward, his reflection rippled, froze, and smiled at him.
Not a normal smile.
A knowing one.
Then it moved before he did, reaching toward the other side.
The surface shivered and a quiet mechanical voice stuttered:
> "Status… unknown. Adjusting to: Conditional."
Rynn took a shaky breath and stepped through.
On the other side, the world was quieter.
Rain hit his shoulders, the city skyline blinking weakly in the distance.
He didn't look back.
---
Two Months Later
Rynn learned something important:
"Conditional Pass" didn't mean "paid."
It meant "survive until we decide if you're worth a paycheck."
The official Seeker stipend started next month.
Until then, he was broke.
He spent two months drifting between towns — fixing relic lamps for coins, hauling scrap, sleeping under bridges.
He'd started the journey with hope; now he traveled with callouses and sarcasm.
The world outside the Guild wasn't kinder. Just bigger.
---
Tavern Rumors
It was in a rundown tavern in Darrinvale that he overheard it.
> "You heard about the Arena in Varen City?"
"That illegal fighting ring?"
"Illegal-ish. Pays better than the Guild if you can stay conscious."
Rynn looked up from his gray soup.
The man talking wore a Guild badge, freshly issued — a new graduate, same year as him.
Rynn leaned closer. "They pay for fights?"
The man looked him over. "You a Seeker?"
"Technically."
He laughed. "Then yeah. Varen City. East road. Tell 'em Kain sent you."
He tossed a coin on the counter and left.
Rynn didn't know it yet, but he'd remember that name someday.
---
The Road to Varen
The road east was long and cracked, cutting through abandoned fields and broken rails.
Every few miles, a ruined relic tower flickered faintly — like ghosts of the old world watching travelers pass.
Rynn walked until his boots wore thin.
The humiliation from the exam still gnawed at him. He didn't want to be just the "conditional kid" anymore.
He wanted to fight, earn, grow stronger.
And, maybe, find his father's trail somewhere beyond these empty roads.
---
Varen City
The first thing he saw were the lights.
Bright, endless, hungry — stretching up the sides of old towers and down into alleys full of noise.
Posters covered every wall:
> VAREN ARENA – GLORY, CASH, SURVIVAL.
Fight your reflection. Prove your worth.
Rynn smirked. "Guess I'm finally qualified for something."
As he stepped into the crowded street, someone called out behind him.
A boy, maybe fifteen, pale hair, a smirk that looked permanent.
"You lost, or just pretending to be mysterious?"
Rynn grinned. "A little of both."
The boy extended a hand. "Name's Eren. Been here a year. The Arena's rough, but the food's worse. You'll fit right in."
Rynn shook his hand. "Sounds perfect."
And somewhere deep under the city, the next test began.
---
End of Chapter 6
---