Harkel turned and headed back toward his dorm.
He didn't get far.
Something tugged at his attention, and he stopped, glancing back at Emmett. That's when he noticed it—something was different.
Emmett wasn't wearing his usual academy uniform.
Instead, he had on a bright orange jacket, the color so bold it practically screamed against the sea of dull, identical uniforms around them. It stood out immediately—made even more noticeable by how plain the academy attire usually was. Draped over it all was a long, sleeveless cloak, hanging loosely from his shoulders.
For a moment, the boy looked less like a student… and more like a sage.
"Why are you wearing that?" Harkel asked, staring at Emmett, completely dumbfounded.
"Oh? You like it?" Emmett said, twirling around like he was showing off a dress. "Let's just say, thanks to Kyle—one of my teammates—and the academy, we found a way to do something I've always wanted."
He stopped spinning, a confident smile spreading across his face.
"And let's be honest," he continued, "we might be first-years, but our group is probably the strongest team out there right now."
The smile he wore made Harkel's expression harden. It was the kind of confidence that didn't come from arrogance—but certainty. The kind that said their teams would clash eventually.
Sooner rather than later.
"Just so you know," Harkel said coldly, turning away, "we're not sitting back either. When that happens, we'll be stronger than you."
"Good," Emmett replied casually. "Naggy wouldn't want anything less either."
He smirked, eyes following Harkel's retreating back.
"You know he still has beef with your teammate, Riven, right?"
Harkel didn't respond.
"Oh—and one more thing," he added without turning around. "That outfit doesn't matter. Not with that shitty dyed hair. You should probably fix it. Otherwise, you'll ruin the whole look."
He waved Emmett off and kept walking.
"My hair isn't bad," Emmett muttered, touching it defensively.
"No, he's not wrong. You dyed it like shit," a deep voice echoed from within his stomach.
"Oh, shut up, you fox," Emmett snapped, punching his own stomach. "I wouldn't even need Sage Mode if you'd just given me KCM Two already. None of these guys would've been a problem."
A bubbling red aura suddenly flared around his clenched fist.
Before Emmett could react, his own arm swung up and smashed into his face, sending him crashing to the ground.
He knew it wasn't him.
It was the fox.
"Why won't you help me?" Emmett yelled, frustration bleeding into his voice.
"You're trying to take the easy way out," the fox finally said. "I love our mother. I would do anything for her. But what I won't do is let you take shortcuts."
There was no anger in the voice—only firmness.
"You need to grow stronger on your own. If you keep relying on me, you'll never become as good as the original."
Emmett clenched his teeth.
He hated to admit it—but the Nine-Tailed Fox was right.
They were on good terms. They shared a mutual bond… their mother. But Emmett had taken that for granted. He'd thought that with enough pressure, he could force the fox into submission—unlock a power that would put him above everyone else in the academy.
Above everyone.
"Fine," Emmett finally said, pushing himself to his feet. He began walking away, fists clenched tight.
"I'll find my own way to get stronger."
A slow smile crept across his face.
"And I think… I just got an idea."
Harkel reached his dorm at a full sprint, clutching his breakfast tray tightly as he ran. He was careful not to drop a single thing—meals were regulated here. One tray per essential type per day. Waste wasn't an option.
He burst through the door.
"Guys, we have a problem," Harkel said, quickly closing it behind him.
Luka and Leo both looked up.
Harkel explained everything—what he'd just learned from Emmett. And thanks to the fact that Luka hadn't left the room since they returned from the beast hunt, the situation was… bad. Really bad. Especially considering their dormitory sat directly across from the academy's main teaching grounds.
Luka hadn't attended class in days.
"Wait," Leo said, thinking it through. "Shouldn't they already be here?"
The others looked at him.
"If we count it out—Sunday, Monday, Tuesday… Tuesday was the meeting day. Wednesday was when Riven, Jordan, and Joey left. Thursday—yesterday—Luka stayed here again. And now today's Friday."
Leo frowned.
"That's three days already. So why hasn't anyone come for him?"
Harkel crossed his arms. "Most likely because of the Clinton Games. Monday we just got back, so they probably gave us Tuesday as a break. Wednesday and Thursday might've been counted as prep days."
He clicked his tongue.
"Which makes today the last day."
"So technically," Leo muttered, "he still has today to show up."
"But that's still a problem," Harkel added.
"Sunlight," Luka sighed.
He slowly stood up from the floor, where a thin line of sunlight from the blinds grazed the ground near his feet.
"Yeah," Harkel said. "If we weren't on a time limit, I'd just grab an umbrella or something. But we don't have time for that. We could cover you up—like what Leo did before."
"We could," Luka said. "But first, I want to test something."
They both looked at him.
"If I can walk in sunlight now, I'll just go like normal. If I can't… then we do the cover plan."
Leo exhaled. "Fine. But quickly."
After brushing his teeth, washing his face, and pulling on his uniform, Luka stood ready. Black hair, streaked faintly with red, eyes focused—but uneasy.
They avoided the front entrance, heading instead toward a side door with fewer people. If something went wrong… fewer witnesses.
Standing just inside, Luka stared at the sunlight pouring in from outside.
He shivered.
After what happened last time, fear had rooted itself deep in his body—an unconscious response. He didn't blame himself. Anyone who'd had their hand burned nearly to ash would fear the sun after that.
Luka stepped closer.
Not fully into the light—just enough for the edge of the sunlight to brush against him.
[+0.01 Sun Resistance]
He sighed.
"That's… not enough."
He moved to the door.
Leo and Harkel tensed, ready to grab him at a moment's notice.
"Three… two… one."
Luka shoved his hand outside—then instantly yanked it back.
Both boys stared at him.
"That was too fast," Harkel said flatly.
Luka winced. He knew he was right. No system message appeared.
"Okay, okay," Luka said, pacing a bit. "Give me a second."
"We don't have much time," Leo said, tapping his wrist. "Classes are about to start."
"I know, I know."
Luka jumped in place, hyping himself up. "You got this. You got this."
And then—
A hand suddenly grabbed his wrist and yanked it forward.
"Harkel—!"
It happened too fast. Luka hadn't even registered it until his arm was already outside.
Smoke curled up from his skin.
"It's smoking!" Harkel shouted.
Luka pulled his hand back, biting down a hiss as pain flared.
[System: +0.5 Sun Resistance]
The same message appeared again.
And again.
Luka blew on his hand, the burn still stinging—but manageable.
"So?" Harkel asked.
They could see each other's systems, sure—but some messages were hidden. Exclusive gains. Special resistances.
"Yeah," Luka said, flexing his fingers. "It burns… but nothing I can't handle."
He smiled.
"And it's increasing faster than before."
The smile faded as he noticed both boys suddenly turning away.
"Hey—why are you leaving so fast?" he called out.
"Classes are about to start," Harkel said over his shoulder. "And I'm not letting my absence count go up."
"Same," Leo added.
"Shoot—!"
Luka bolted after them.
The moment he stepped fully outside, the burning sensation exploded across his body—but he clenched his teeth and pushed through it.
[System: +1 Sun Resistance]
Seeing that made something click in Luka's mind.
I shouldn't stay inside anymore.
He ran harder, sprinting toward the academy building, ignoring the heat crawling across his skin as he dashed straight into his homeroom class.
Both Harkel and Luka managed to reach their classes at roughly the same time—though Luka was a step behind.
They slipped through the door just as the bell rang, its sharp chime signaling that any student not already inside was officially late. Both of them let out quiet sighs of relief as they entered and quickly took their seats.
Something felt… off.
Their homeroom teacher was already present.
That alone wasn't normal.
Ms. Volx was rarely early. Rarely awake, honestly.
They could tell immediately that she had a speech prepared. She stood at the front of the room, posture straight, eyes half-lidded like she'd been dragged out of bed against her will.
"Hello, class," Ms. Volx said flatly.
A chorus of half-awake greetings followed.
"As you can tell," she continued, yawning openly, "today isn't a normal day. I'm not in my pouch, sleeping my ass away." She rubbed her eyes. "But it's required—and surprisingly, I actually want to see you idiots survive long enough to become adults."
A few students chuckled.
"We'll be talking about beast gemstones today."
The moment she said it, a boy near the front raised his hand, confusion written all over his face.
"God, I haven't even started yet—what?" Ms. Volx snapped.
"Well," the boy said hesitantly, "our weapons class already goes over beast gemstones. So… what's there to learn?"
Ms. Volx stared at him.
"If you didn't interrupt me," she said slowly, "you'd already know."
"Oh—sorry."
"Zip it."
The boy sank into his seat.
"Now," she continued, pacing slightly, "what your weapons class covers is the basic, surface-level nonsense. The stuff you should know. They probably talked about melting gemstones down, crafting beast weapons, and handing them back when you return to the academy."
She waved a hand dismissively.
"But we're not talking about that yet."
She leaned against her desk.
"Beast gemstones are still largely a mystery. We barely know where they come from. Or where beasts themselves originated. What we do know is what they can be used for."
She began counting on her fingers.
"They power ships. Portals. Advanced lighting systems. Entire infrastructures." Her gaze sharpened. "And then there's beast weaponry."
She let that sink in.
"It takes a very skilled forger to make a proper beast weapon. Most common forgers can't handle them—and when they try, the result is faulty. Unstable. You don't get the same benefits as a true beast weapon."
A few students nodded.
"And then," she added, "we have what you kids like to call unique beast weapons."
Interest spiked immediately.
"These weapons carry a trait directly inherited from the beast itself. Kill a beast with ice-based abilities, and a unique weapon might replicate one of its techniques. Maybe a skill. Maybe a passive effect."
She smirked faintly.
"They're rare. Extremely rare. And if you ever manage to get one—or convince a forger to make one—I suggest you stay on their good side. Do that, and you're set for life."
A hush fell over the room.
"But that's not what we're here for today."
She straightened.
"Today, we're talking about the other part of a beast gemstone."
She paused deliberately.
"A Beast Domain."
"A Beast Domain?" the class repeated in unison.
"Yes." Ms. Volx nodded. "A Beast Domain carries the same principle as a unique beast weapon—but instead of a skill or trait, it manifests the environment the beast once lived and survived in."
She reached beneath her desk and pulled out a small device.
It was metallic, sleek, and oddly shaped—designed to hold something upright, almost like an egg stand.
"This," she said, holding it up, "is called a Cradle."
She then produced a Level One beast gemstone and carefully placed it into the device.
"The Cradle acts as the catalyst. Without it, a Beast Domain cannot activate."
The gemstone settled into place.
Ms. Volx tapped it lightly.
The gemstone—and the Cradle beneath it—began to glow.
"What—"
"The—"
"Fuc—"
Harkel, Luka, and several other students spoke at the same time as a blinding white light flooded the room. Instinctively, everyone shut their eyes, shielding themselves from the overwhelming brightness.
"All right," Ms. Volx said calmly. "You can open your eyes now."
Slowly, the students did—vision clearing as the light faded.
When their vision cleared, the classroom was gone.
In its place stretched a vast rocky orange wasteland, cracked earth spreading endlessly in every direction. Heat rolled through the air in visible waves, the ground radiating warmth like a living furnace.
Several students immediately staggered, sweat forming on their skin.
But Luka and Harkel didn't flinch.
Thanks to their accumulated Heat Resistance, neither of them could truly feel the temperature—yet something about the place made their stomachs twist.
A strange sense of familiarity settled over them.
"…Have we been here before?" Luka asked, crouching down and placing his hand against the ground.
"It feels like it," Harkel replied, scanning the horizon slowly.
"Woah," Luka muttered, pressing his palm harder into the earth. "This feels… real. Like too real."
A boy nearby wiped sweat from his face, panic clear in his eyes.
"Teacher," he said breathlessly, "where are we? What happened to the classroom? And why is it so hot?"
Ms. Volx stood calmly among the chaos, one hand resting on her hip.
"You've got a lot of questions," she said lazily. "Let's see… where are we?" She tapped her chin as if thinking. "Another dimension. A pocket space. Or if you want to get technical—inside the beast gemstone itself."
She shook her head.
"This is a Level One Rataclawin, harvested from the planet Pyroxis."
That single word made everything click.
No wonder the terrain felt familiar.
This place mirrored the environment from the beast hunt—the same scorched earth, the same oppressive atmosphere. Luka and Harkel both felt it as their Systems quietly ticked upward.
+1 Heat Resistance
+1 Heat Resistance
"…So that's it," Harkel murmured.
He folded his arms, thinking rapidly.
This could be huge.
"If you think about it logically," Harkel said to himself, eyes narrowing, "these domains could be perfect for resistance training. Since we lost that shack near the warehouse… we'll need something else. Somewhere controlled."
His gaze flicked to the device still in Ms. Volx's hand.
Ms. Volx began speaking again, addressing the entire class.
"Use some common sense," she said. "Everything you see here—the terrain, the heat, the pressure—is the natural habitat of the Rataclawin."
She gestured broadly.
"And here's something important. The higher the beast's level, the worse the environment becomes."
Several students groaned as sweat continued to pour down their faces.
"You're all feeling it now," she continued. "Uncomfortable. Borderline unbearable. But let me be clear—this heat?" She smirked. "It's nowhere near what Pyroxis is actually like."
She paused, reconsidering.
"Maybe half the original heat. Actually… probably less than half."
A ripple of disbelief spread through the class.
"The stronger the beast," Ms. Volx finished, "the closer the domain gets to replicating the original planet it came from."
She tapped the gemstone again.
White light swallowed their vision.
When it faded, they were back in the classroom—desks, walls, and ceiling snapping back into place. Several students immediately collapsed into their seats, breathing heavily, faces pale and drenched in sweat.
Ms. Volx glanced around, unimpressed.
"Most of you wouldn't last five more minutes before passing out from heatstroke," she said casually.
She set the Cradle back under her desk.
"Now," she added, stretching, "any questions about beast gemstones—or anything I just explained?"
Before anyone could respond, the bell rang, signaling the end of the period.
"All right, all right, you little craps," Ms. Volx said, waving them off. "Get out there and give those beasts hell, got it?"
"Yes, ma'am!" the class responded in unison as they filed out.
Everyone left.
Except two students.
Harkel and Luka remained seated.
Ms. Volx raised an eyebrow.
"Is there something I can do for you two?"
Harkel stood, a confident smile spreading across his face.
"Yes," he said smoothly. "How would you like to sleep for eternity… without ever having to do any work again?"
Ms. Volx's eyes gleamed with interest.
"…Go on," she said.