Chapter 4: Dancing in the Night

“Fear not, little one, as our paths will cross once more. Remember, as long as the stars shine in the night sky, hope has not been lost. There will always be a light guiding us through the darkness. It is the one thing those aliens can never lay a finger upon.”

-Dying moments of unnamed hero

-five days after Alliance Day

-recounted by Stephanie Grant, 2156

I am deep in concentration as I try to use my telekinesis to move an eraser through the various hoops Paradox displays in my vision. Each successful attempt triggers a pleasant chime, and my score increases.

It's funny how training can feel like playing a game. I chuckle to myself, but my amusement causes me to lose focus, and the eraser slips from my grasp, falling to the ground. Paradox immediately starts scolding me for my lack of concentration.

We are interrupted by a knock on the door. I look over to see Corvus standing there. Corvus grins as he sees me struggling with my telekinesis training. “Well, you are having fun. I just wanted to inform you that I am going down for lunch in about an hour if you want to join me."

“Yeah, I’ll tag along; also, is Mara coming?” I ask.

Corvus shakes his head. "Nope, she is too engrossed in training to bother with food right now." I nod in understanding as Corvus continues. "Well, I have to go down to the workshop, so I will see you in the mess hall."

I wave goodbye to Corvus and return to training, but only after I set a timer for forty-five minutes. When the timer finally interrupts me with its beeping, I have only begun to be able to control a second eraser at the same time. The movements of the erasers are clumsy, similar to those of a child taking his first step.

The mess hall resembles a colossal greenhouse with towering tropical trees. Circular platforms encircle their trunks, serving as resting spots for picnic tables and connecting ladders to higher levels.

Between the trees, there are winding dirt paths that carry a bustle of students and serving drones who fly from tree to tree, refilling plates and glasses. There are students everywhere, laughing, arguing, and sharing stories, all while enjoying their meals.

Paradox guides me to a tree near the end of the main path. Gazing up, I see Corvus at a table in the topmost ring, waving for me to join.

Climbing up the ladders, I am treated to a new perspective—a bird's-eye view of the pathways below. They are arranged similarly to the roots of a tree, mirroring the logo of the school.

Corvus gestures towards an empty seat opposite him, and I gratefully plop down.

"Hey, Elian, how about this?" He asks, gesturing around, already taking a bite of his meal.

As a serving drone sets a tray of food in front of me, I take a moment to breathe in the fresh air and listen to the general clatter of students interwoven with various bird calls before responding. “Well, it's quite an experience. I wonder if the birdcalls are fake because I have not seen any.”

Corvus laughs before saying, “It is alright. You just need to look closely at the treetop.”

We begin to dig into our meals, the lull filled with small talk, though it's mostly Corvus talking my ear off about all the things he found out about today’s flier while I nod or grunt at the required places. However, my attention is mainly focused on finding those pesky tiny birds as they flee within the dense canopies of the trees.

Suddenly, all the chatter dies down. I look up to see a group of students wearing matching uniforms walking in. There is something written on their shoulder, but I am too far away to make it out.

“Z3” Paradox dutifully informs me before I can ask anyone else about them.

Who are they?" I asked Corvus, and my curiosity piqued.

"They're the Sentinels," he explains. "They are the third-year Elite squad, favorites to win the upcoming Global Combat Tournament."

I can't help but feel a surge of awe as I watch them head to the nearest tree and climb up. All around them, students hurry out of their way like people would do to celebrities. In a sense, I guess they are. They are favorites to win the highest non-professional tournament of the most watched sport worldwide by a large margin.

“I wonder if we'll ever be as good as them,” I comment.

Corvus grins confidently. “Of course we will. We just have to work hard and never give up.”

I smile back. Hard work is something I can do. But I feel it won't be as easy as Corvus makes it out to be.

After lunch, I head back to my room to continue training. I focus on improving my telekinesis and practicing moving objects of different sizes and shapes. Paradox is an invaluable guide, offering advice and encouragement.

In the three hours I practice, my control increases slowly but steadily. I have moved on to trying to juggle two small balls using only my telekinesis. The only reason I have stopped is due to Paradox urging me to take a break, citing that I have become more sloppy over the last few minutes.

I head over to Corvus’s room to see if he is there. To my surprise, I find his door ajar and an empty room inside. Assuming he must have left, I decided to go to Mara's room instead. As I approach her door, I can hear noises of metal on metal echoing out from under Mara’s door. I knock on it and wait for a few moments before entering.

There is a stunned moment as my brain tries to process the scene before me. I feel as if I've been teleported to a post-apocalyptic city, complete with ruined streets and skyscraper husks. There is a cool breeze that accompanies the setting sun.

However, I am unable to focus much on that as I am distracted by the sight of Corvus and Mara dueling in their amazing combat suits.

Mara's black daggers dart in from all angles around Corvus as he struggles to defend, wielding a tower shield and broadsword.

It's obvious to even my untrained eye that Mara is leagues above Corvus in combat skills. His only saving grace is the kamikaze drones he sends out at Mara to break her momentum and hope for her to make a mistake.

There is a cleverly aimed drone that launches from behind his shield and causes Mara to step into the water and slip. But just as Corvus is about to charge in and take advantage of it, Mara is gone, leaving behind a shadowy figure showing the power of her special power.

Corvus retreats hastily, completely unsure of Mara’s location. Somehow he seems to be running back at breakneck speed, yet he remains at the centre of this city. It is unnerving, to say the least. I am so distracted by this dizzying effect that I don't even notice how their fight ends.

When I finally look, I see Corvus impaled on Mara's sword, grinning like a crazy person, while Mara smirks back. They start chatting excitedly, overlooking my presence. I try to break them out of their world by coughing, but it is of no use.

Sighing, I turn and begin to head back to the room.

“You know, you should head to the combat center and use the simulation partners there. I sadly do not have the required equipment to pull off simulations like Paranoia can.” Paradox advises me with a note of jealousy in her voice.

“Well then, lead the way. Don’t feel sad; I prefer telekinesis over stealth powers anyway.” I consoled her.

"Also, you should try and find a human partner to spar against. Fighting against them will help me learn and grow, which will allow you to gain increased strength, defense, etc. You can bet that Mara and Corvus will get loads of stat increases. Maybe even a level increase to F3, if they are lucky.”

As I follow Paradox's directions, we make our way to a massive, futuristic building known as the Combat Center. The building is divided into several sections, each dedicated to a different type of combat training.

Paradox guides me to a section called "Simulation Arena." The arena is a large, open space filled with holographic projectors and sensors. Its floor is split into various boxes, each about ten meters wide. Some are occupied, as evidenced by their translucent walls, rather than the transparent ones of those that are empty.

I enter a box and stand in its middle. There is a buzz of machinery, and I am standing in the middle of an open field. In front of me is a male figure wearing a grey jumpsuit with the word F2 etched on it.

“That is a simulation partner,” Paradox explains. “They are AI-controlled opponents that can adapt to your fighting style. I want you to think of the words ready for combat.”

As soon as I think those words, a kite shield and a rapier materialize in my hands. I look down to see that I am covered from head to toe in a combat suit with strong metallic boots that are surprisingly comfortable.

Then there is a booming voice that counts down.

3...2...1…

The simulation partner charges at me, its eyes gleaming with determination. I raise my shield to block its initial strike, but it's heavier than I expected. Off-balance, I stumble backward, struggling to regain my footing.

It suddenly stops mid-swing. Paradox interrupts.

“Focus on your body,” Paradox instructs. “Keep your body loose and your legs wider apart.”

When she deems I am sufficiently in the correct posture, the match resumes.

I clear my mind and concentrate on the simulation partner's movements. It lunges at me again, and this time I'm ready. I brace myself, my shield meeting its sword with a loud clang. The force of the impact sends vibrations through my arms, but I hold my ground.

“Good,” Paradox compliments. “Now, counterattack.”

I swing my sword, but the simulation partner deftly dodges it. I press my advantage, launching a series of attacks, but it effortlessly evades each one.

My opponent and I are suddenly frozen as Paradox instructs me again. Showing the mistakes in my swing and form. I am given a holographic overlay that shows me exactly the path of my body and limbs.

After repeating them for what feels like hundreds of times, I now naturally follow the optimal path with minimal thought. As Paradox's instructions became ingrained in my muscle memory, I felt a newfound confidence. My movements became fluid, and my attacks gained precision.

The simulation partner, sensing my increased confidence, presses me harder until I am once again forced onto the defensive. I was waiting for it to make a mistake. When it happens, I almost miss it. I was so focused on dodging its overhead chop that I almost missed that it had overextended.

I hesitate a moment in uncertainty, then dart in with a vicious side swipe aimed at its ribs. My hesitation has cost me as he manages to get his shield up, and my blade deflects off the top of it. I feel myself overextend and jump back in hopes of gaining a reprieve to rebalance myself.

I am off balance and forced back one step after another in a stumbling defense. I lose control of my right leg, then my left arm, as the arena simulates my partner cutting my limbs.

Before I know it, I am on my ass, a sword at my throat. Then the simulation partner resets. A small serving drone flies over carrying a bottle of cold water, which I gratefully gulp down while I relax listening to Paradox's feedback and rundown of the match.

The arena resets, and the dueling partner charges at me, not giving me a moment to settle myself. I keep my defense as impeccable as possible as it attacks me in a dizzying combo of strikes. This time, Paradox helps me out by displaying the predicted movement of my opponent in my vision. I think she is finally satisfied that I can handle myself and won’t cripple myself by solely relying on her. Interestingly, she seems to be randomly making incorrect predictions as if to keep me on my toes.

With paradox helping me out, I finally relaxed enough to begin to experiment. Using my telekinesis, I move around small pebbles in tiny bursts of concentration in hopes of causing my partner to take a misstep.

When it does, I try to counterattack, only to be met with what appears to be an impenetrable defense. When I fail multiple times in a row, I begin to feel frustration rising inside of me.

I channel my telekinesis in slightly larger bursts, subtly manipulating my opponent's movements, disrupting its balance, and throwing off its aim. I am unable to do this often as I am leaving myself open to attack as my concentration is focused on my telekinesis.

I choose my moments carefully only when I feel confident enough in Paradox’s prediction. It works, allowing me to graze the side of my opponent. But I am playing with fire, and it's not long before it burns me.

 Misreading a faint to the shoulder blade, I dodge to the side, trying to use telekinesis to grasp its leg and halt its momentum. A blinding flash of pain follows as my GAI and the arena simulate my sword arm being chopped off.

Sighing, I sit down and relax while listening to Paradox’s advice. Regretfully, my break does not last long, and I am fighting again and again.

The cycle continues for another hour and a half before Paradox deems me able enough to fight a real opponent. I don't win a single match or come close, but I do land more and more successful attacks each and every match.

“Excellent work,” Paradox praises. “You've made amazing progress in such a short time. No doubt, all of the credit goes to my perfect guidance. It is time to head to Duelling Arena and try and get a real sparring opponent to start getting our stats higher.”

As dusk began to paint the skies of Mirage Island with radiant hues of purple and orange,. I find myself wandering through the corridors of the Combat Center as Paradox guides me towards the Dueling Arena.

The Dueling Arena is arranged similarly to the Simulation one, except for the row of bleachers for sitting near the entrance. In it, there are groups of students socializing from all years. Some of them are sweaty, as if they are taking a moment to catch their breath. While others do not even have a single hair out of place. Then there are people like me who are busy scanning the crowd looking for someone to spar with.

"Hey, I'm Alia. I'm a year-one student like you, right?"

I turn to face the girl who has addressed me. She is about my age, and she is wearing a sleek black combat suit with green accents, which matches her long green hair and eyes.

"Yeah, I'm Elian," I replied. "Nice to meet you, Alia."

"It's nice to meet you too," Alia said. "So, are you here to spar?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I am. "

"That's great," Alia said. "I'm a Bastian, so I use a sword. Is that okay with you?"

"Sure," I said. "I'm a Sunforged Duelist, so I use a rapier."

Alia smiled. "Sounds like an interesting matchup. Let's do it."

We walked over to one of the open dueling rings and faced each other. The arena confirms we are ready before placing us in a hologram of a beautiful beach.

The sun hangs low in the sky, painting the horizon with strokes of fiery orange and fuchsia. We are standing on a thin strip of sand wedged between looming shear cliffs and the raging ocean. The sand sinks beneath my feet as I shift into a more balanced stance. I survey the beach before me. There are tiny crabs that scurry sideways, leaving intricate trails that the tide soon reclaims. I watch their movements for a moment before finally looking at my opponent.

 Alia stands poised, sunlight glinting off the polished surface of her shield. It's an intricate piece, unlike her spear, which is a long rod with a jagged tip that holds practicality as its main ideal.

She smirks as she notices me flinching from the glare of her shield. Not hesitating for a moment, she rushes at me, taking advantage of my lack of concentration.

I am instantly on the back foot, struggling to keep up with the flurry of blows coming towards me. I grunt as my sword catches hers. Her strength is far greater than mine. I feel my rapier struggle against hers as her sword slowly presses forward, one inch at a time, bending the thin blade of my sword.

I backed away, trying to create some distance between us. Alia presses her attack, but I am just a tad faster than her, and I can just about dodge her blows.

The stalemate continues for over 5 minutes as we both try and utilize our abilities to gain an edge over each other. My normal tactic of waiting for my opponent to make a mistake or using my telekinesis to force them to do so is not working.

Every time Alia makes a mistake, she activates her ability, and a glowing blue shield surrounds her. The only thing going for me is that it causes her to get tired more quickly, but I am still getting tired quicker than her. She simply has more fitness and has kept me off balance since the beginning. The few cuts she has managed to land in the starting position are making their presence known.

I am forced to use my telekinesis to give myself a bit of extra momentum or power here and there. I am losing, and I know it. I won't survive another minute at this rate.

Desperation claws at me, driving me to risk everything. Instead of focusing on parrying her blows, I concentrate on my telekinesis. I manage to levitate a decent-sized crab from the beach and hurl it towards Alia.

Her eyes widen in surprise as the crab hurtles towards her. Acting on instinct, she raises her shield to protect herself. The impact sends her staggering backward, but she keeps her footing. Taking advantage of her temporary disadvantage, I lunge forward, driving my rapier toward her exposed side.

But she's not defenseless. She activates her ability, and I push the barrier. It pops, but my blade is met by her shield before I do any damage. I push against her shield, feeling the strain in my muscles. Persistence pays off, and I manage to force her to her knees. Triumph surges through me as I raise my sword for the killing blow.

Then, in a blur of motion, Alia sweeps her leg out, sending me tumbling to the ground. I hit the sand hard, my vision spinning. In an instant, she is on top of me, pressing the tip of her spear against my throat.

Beads of sweat roll down my forehead as I gasp for air, staring up at her triumphant grin. Defeat tastes bitter, but I refuse to admit it.

"Good match," I choke out, managing a weak smile. Alia returns the smile, easing the pressure on my throat.

"You fought well," she concedes, extending a hand to help me up. Pride forces me to ignore the weakness in my limbs as I accept her help, dusting myself off.

"So, does your GAI name also begin with P?" I make a casual remark as we drink cold water brought to us by a drone.

“Yea, she is called Phoenix. Why?”

“Well, do you know about the secret project?” I ask her.

“Hmm, yea, I have the new one. I attempted to spar with a few individuals who weren't involved, and I got beaten pretty easily. That's why I came to you; I assumed you had the new GAI because you didn't appear as richly dressed as the rest of them.”

“Are we that behind the normal Enhanced? Oh, and to answer your previous question, everyone I've met with the new version has their GAI name starting with P.”

“They are stronger, faster, tougher, and think faster than us. The only thing we have going for us is that our abilities are stronger than theirs.”

“Then we should focus more on our abilities in the next spar. If you are up for it?”

Then we are fighting again. This time it is on top of a jagged ledge overlooking a running river far below.

I manage to squeeze in a few wins here and there, and before I know it, an hour has flown by. I want to keep going, but my body is disagreeing with me quite fiercely.

After our last bout, I find myself sitting next to Alia, relaxing my sore muscles and making small talk. My attention is suddenly drawn to an urgent notification that appears in the corner of my eye.

Lines of text scroll through my vision as what appears to be diagnostic runs before displaying a fancy screen.

─── . *₊ ° . ° .･ ｡ﾟ☆: ∙∘☽⍥☾∘∙ :☆ﾟ. °:. *₊ ° . ° .───

GAI Update Conditions Met.

GAI Name: Paradox

─── . *₊ ° . ° .･ ｡ﾟ☆: ∙∘☽⍥☾∘∙ :☆ﾟ. °:. *₊ ° . ° .───

Sufficient Data acquired.

Training Paradox.

Upgrades performed.
─── . *₊ ° . ° .･ ｡ﾟ☆: ∙∘☽⍥☾∘∙ :☆ﾟ. °:. *₊ ° . ° .───
GAI Update Changelog

Rank: F1 -> F2

Additional details:

1. Offense: F1
2. Defence: G9->F0
3. Speed: F3
4. Cognition: F3
5. Constitution: F0->F1            

─── . *₊ ° . ° .･ ｡ﾟ☆: ∙∘☽⍥☾∘∙ :☆ﾟ. °:. *₊ ° . ° .───

I read the update several times, overwhelmed by the information. Paradox, did you just upgrade? I ask, vocalising internally with my voice tinged with excitement.

Paradox responds calmly, "Indeed, Elian. Based on the data gathered throughout your training sessions, I have managed to upgrade various functions."

Alia, noting my sudden silence and distant look, asks softly, “Everything alright?”

"Everything is fine, more than fine. I managed to get an upgrade to reach F2.” I share excitedly.

“That is amazing. I had also gotten a rank-up in the morning. You wanna fight?”

“Sorry, I am just too tired. Maybe tomorrow, plus we have the party in an hour. I might be going with my friends. You could join if you want to."

Alia smiles at my invitation, accepting it readily. "Sure, I'd love to join you. Just let me freshen up a bit and change. Meet you back here in an hour."

I nod in agreement. "Perfect. See you then."

She waves goodbye and disappears into the crowds. Grateful for the respite, I stretch my sore muscles, feeling the ache of exhaustion creep in.

Curiously, I examine my new stats and review the changes made to Paradox. Having my offense rating remain the same indicates that improvements in defense and constitution were prioritized. I'm pleased with the outcome; my overall durability and endurance have improved. The two areas I was lagging behind in. Though I would have liked a strength boost too, well, beggars can't be choosers.

I make my way back to my suite, feeling a spring in my step over my gains today, and decide to indulge in a hot bath. Today is one of those rare days when the water is perfectly warm, and it feels like my body is melting away all the stress. When I finally exit, I look like a resin whose life has been sucked out.

I enter the common room and find Mara and Corvus there. Corvus is enthusiastically demonstrating a tiny robotic dog to Mara, who has a glazed look on her face. As I approach, Mara notices me with her spatial awareness and turns around, giving me a pleading look, while Corvus is busy adjusting the mechanical arms that have sprouted from the dog's back.

Ignoring Mara’s gaze, I ask Corvus, “Hey, what's that?”

"Say hello to Spot. It's my first real-life creation using Phantom. Check out its foldable mechanical arms! It can grab things for me, follow my commands, and even handle cups, taps, and drawers effortlessly," he responds.

"You always come up with the most original names, don't you?" I playfully tease. "Did you make this just so you could have a personal assistant and avoid getting up to fetch a glass of water?"

“Nooo.” He replies with a guilty expression, as if he were caught red-handed trying to steal food from the fridge, while Mara adds to his embarrassment by snickering loudly at his response.

Corvus, still looking embarrassed, tries to change the subject. "Anyway, how was your afternoon training session? You seemed to be in high spirits earlier."

I share information about the Combat Center, Alia, and our sparring sessions. I also mention how I improved my Defense and Constitution.

"So, what about you? It seemed like you two were lost in each other's eyes when I asked if you would join me at the Combat Center."

"It wasn't like that at all. Stop jumping to conclusions." Mara defends herself, her cheeks turning red. "Unless you want to meet my beautiful daggers? You have not been introduced to them properly after all, unlike Corvus over there."

“You would dare hurt such a pretty face. In all seriousness, though, how was your afternoon?" I reply.

“Very productive,” Corvus replies.

“A complete waste of time,” Mara replies at the same time, with a scowl on her face.

        At my confused look, Corvus explains, “Well, Mrs. Shadow over there is upset that I managed to upgrade three of my stats to her. It is all due to the fact that I fought bravely while Mara was a scaredy cat and kept running away.”

        “The only thing I remember Corvus doing was him trying to retreat while begging for mercy and annoying me by sending those drones out randomly. It harassed me enough to give me increases in Cognition and Speed.” Mara replies smoothly, causing me to chuckle.

As Corvus prepares to respond, I quickly interject to prevent another argument between them. Before I have to endure another one, those two are like an old married couple, I swear. “We should get going; Alia is probably waiting for us. Oh, and Corvus, let me remind you, your charm isn't strong enough to pull off the fashionably late look, so don't even think about trying.”

─── °:. *₊ ° . ° .･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☾ .* :☆ﾟ. °:. *₊ ° . ° .───

As promised, we find Alia waiting for us at the Combat Center, looking refreshed and invigorated. She is in an exquisite emerald green gown. The moonlight dances along its surface, creating a stunning halo that complements her hair quite nicely. It drapes elegantly around her neck, leaving her shoulders bare, and cascades into a delicate semi-sweetheart neckline, giving Alia a relaxed yet graceful look.

Corvus pauses, then whispers to me, “Dude, you are lacking in the best friend department. I think you should tell your best friend when you are taking him to meet a beautiful girl. I feel underdressed.”

I snicker before replying, “Only you would dare to wear a combo of formal and casual clothes to a party. I guess it would be hard to figure out from mine and Mara's clothes.” While pointing to Mara's stunning midnight-colored dress, complete with a stylish halter neckline and vibrant red accents that perfectly reflect her personality, and my navy blue jacket with a faint herringbone pattern.

We hurry to catch up to Mara, who is already exchanging pleasantries with Alia. As we walk up to them, we overhear Alia mentioning, “Did you hear? The seniors scored permission to throw the party at one of the halls that has its own stretch of beach.”

“That is really nice, but the sand is going to be quite annoying,” Mara replies.

“Ah! I am perfectly dressed. You are the ones who are overdressed.” Corvus comments with a triumphant grin on his face.

“You guys seem to be overlooking that there's likely a solution. They're not stupid. You are still underdressed in... Whatever in the nine stars you are wearing is.” Alia corrects Corvus and laughs at Corvus’s crestfallen face.

Corvus, to preserve his dignity, proceeds towards the party hall while we trail behind him.

“Alia, you have successfully completed our rite of passage and earned your place as our friends,” I say with a somber nod of my head.

“You mean humiliate him?”  Alia asks with a giggle.

“To keep your position, you will need to carry out this ritual twice daily. Once in the morning and once in the evening. While Sundays are not mandatory, performing it on that day will increase your chances of promotion.” Mara informs Alia, causing Corvus to call out, “I can still hear you.”

The path to the hall begins as a smooth concrete pavement with lush and well-kept trees on either side. Gradually, it transforms into a meandering and gravelly trail, scattered with small stones. The trees have now evolved into a thick canopy of foliage, with an abundance of shrubs and bushes nestled amidst towering evergreen and coconut trees. The once-bright lights of college are now hidden behind the trees. The sound of distant waves mixed in with the sounds of insects provides a soothing backdrop compared to the bustle earlier.

“Wow, this island must be massive! If they can hide something like this,” I comment offhandedly, busy craning my neck to see if the Combat Center is visible over the treetops.

“It's the size of one of the big cities. How else do you think they can fit an entire castle in here?” Corvus replies, smirking at our dumbfounded expression.

“Ignoring all the hows. Why?” Mara asks finally, after a long moment.

“Well, they use it for various wargames and training exercises, along with a few tournaments that don’t fit in the arena,” Corvus answers. “You guys read more often.”

As we emerge from the dense foliage, a clearing opens up before us, revealing a mesmerizing spectacle. Towering trees encircle the area, their branches adorned with an array of treehouses, each unique in its design and decor. From which strings of colorful lights cascade down, illuminating the clearing with a warm and inviting glow.

Below, a massive party is in full swing. Hundreds of students, dressed in their finest attire, mingle and dance to the pulsating rhythm of the music being played by a band that stands in the center of the clearing. The music is beautifully complemented by the sound of the waves, insects, and the chatter of students.

Along one side, opposite the winding path that leads from the clearing to a secluded beach, is a long bench overladen with trays of snacks and drinks.

The crowd is a diverse mix of students from all years, their backgrounds and social standings evident in their attire and demeanor. Rich kids proudly exhibit designer clothing and accessories, whereas the less fortunate opt for simpler apparel, cobbled together creatively.

At the edges of the party are various groups of people. Some are busy moving various pieces on holographic boards. While others are busy arguing over replays of previous combat tournaments.

Wading through them are the members of Z3, the host of this party. They roam around the edge of the party, stopping fights before they have a chance to begin, all while continuously interacting with whomever they pass.

Corvus, never one to waste a moment, shouts, “Last one to the beach, has to get everyone food.”

Me, Alia, and Mara walk slowly towards the beach, watching Corvus run ahead and straight into the back of a well-built second-year who is over a foot taller than him.

As we push through the crowd to rescue Corvus, we encounter a variety of students. Some students are busy holding court while, nearby, a group of girls dressed in matching neon outfits. They dance wildly, their movements exaggerated and attention-grabbing. In hopes of getting someone with a high social ranking to become their suitor.

Finally, we reach the beach, where a multitude of students are gathered, enjoying the cool breeze and the gentle lapping of the waves. Some sit on the sand, lost in conversation, while others wade in the water, their feet sinking into the soft sand. While others are busy playing various sports under the fluorescent light emitted by the glow sticks that are scattered around.

In one of the far corners, there is a small ring of flags within which two students dressed in full combat suits fight, cheered on by the spectators, while others roast marshmallows over a campfire.

As the sun begins to set, we spend the next thirty minutes marveling at the breathtaking shades of crimson that paint the sky. Time flies by as we take part in various activities. Mara spends her time learning martial arts from a group of older girls, while Corvus is busy racing all sorts of gizmos. Alia, on the other hand, engages in a few duels. As for me, I eagerly participate in every board game I can get my hands on.

I find myself by the dueling ring, cheering as Corvus and Alia step into the dueling ring. Their duel draws the attention of a few nearby students, who gather around to watch the exciting exchange. Among the onlookers is Marcus, a charismatic and athletic senior with striking hazel eyes and a charming smile.

“Impressive agility,” Marcus comments, admiring Alia's swift and precise movements. “If the Omniscient manages to get a lucky blow while she is distracted by his drones, then he could win. Otherwise, I do not see a way for her to lose.”

Sure enough, his prediction comes true as Alia slices Corvus across the chest with her spear, ending the bout.

While the next pair of duelists are getting ready, I ask Marcus, “What archetype are you, if you don't mind me asking? I am Dominion with the subtype Sunforged Duelist.”

Marcus cocks his head with a smile. "Didn't put you as a Telle guy? Telle is what we call Dominion due to your telekinesis and whatnot. I am a Mindfire Seer myself, like our friend over there. But I am of the Mindfire Seer variety.”

Seeing my look of confusion, he elaborates, “My role is that of a strategist because I can basically overclock my brain.”

“That must be a massive help in exams,” I comment.

He barks a short laugh. “Oh, not really. You will find out soon enough. Look, your friends are heading over. Also, good luck keeping up with her. She has a real talent for battle that one.”

As Corvus and Alia join us, Circus notices Marcus’s cybernetic arm and asks, “So you upgraded your arm? How does it work with your GAI? I was wondering if having a cybernetic arm would interfere with the GAI.”

Marcus grins, flexing his cybernetic arm. “Glad you asked! This puppy integrates directly with my GaI, enabling targeting assists and increasing reaction speeds. They are not cheap unless you are a Mind-Forge Engineer or known one.”

The night skyline darkens as we finally head back to the main party for dinner, pausing briefly for a quick ion shower to rid our bodies of all the sand.

With a plate of food in hand, I find myself in a quieter area away from the pulsating music. Here, a handful of other students have also amassed to enjoy the serene ambiance offered by the peaceful waters. Among them, I recognize Amelia, a fellow first-year I had encountered during the tour earlier in the day. She is seated alone, gazing out at the moonlit ocean, her eyes reflecting the shimmering light.

Approaching cautiously, I take a seat next to her. "Hi, Amelia. Mind if I join you?" I ask tentatively.

She turns her head, smiling warmly. "Not at all, Elian. It's actually nice to see a familiar face here."

We fall into an easy conversation, discussing topics ranging from our classes to our aspirations as Enhanced individuals. Her passion for environmental conservation and animal welfare aligns with my desire to contribute positively to society.

As our meals finish, I excuse myself from the party and head back to my room. My social battery is completely drained from the whole day. But it has been fun, considering I never thought I would enjoy a party this much.