The gates of West Corp Academy looked more like the entrance to a fortress than a school. With the prelims being hosted on-site, the V-Team—the elite faculty of veteran heroes—had opened the "Aura-Chambers," state-of-the-art facilities designed to push UMA abilities to their breaking point.
Inside the primary chamber, the air was a chaotic mess of competing forces.
"Focus, Rose! Your energy is lagging!" Cassie Vance shouted over the roar of a localized wind tunnel. She was hovering three feet off the ground, her arms outstretched as she commanded a precise, spiraling slipstream of air. "If you can't stabilize the core, my Aero-Shield will collapse!"
Maya stood at the center of the chamber, her boots vibrating against the floor. She was trying to project a steady "Cyber-grid" to reinforce Cassie’s wind, but the two powers were like oil and water. Every time Maya’s purple energy touched the air currents, it didn't blend; it reacted.
Bzzzt-CRACK!
A jagged bolt of static electricity jumped from Maya’s fingertips, lashing into Cassie’s slipstream. The wind didn't just break; it ignited into a miniature, spinning lightning storm that sent Cassie tumbling backward into the safety padding.
"Ugh!" Cassie groaned, hitting the wall. She landed on her feet, her eyes flashing with fury. "You’re doing it on purpose. You’re trying to sabotage me because you know I’m the better lead!"
"I'm not!" Maya panted, her forehead drenched in sweat. "The frequencies just don't match. Your wind is too fast, and my energy is too... heavy."
"It’s not 'heavy,' it’s clumsy," Cassie snapped, brushing dust off her white-and-gold training suit. "You’re a liability, Rose. My ranking is on the line, and I’m stuck with a waitress who plays with sparks."
Maya looked down at her hands, the familiar sting of shame returning. But then, her gaze drifted to the observation deck.
Leaning against the high-security gates outside were two figures who didn't belong in this world of polished chrome and ego. John Lewis was there, wearing his faded restaurant hoodie, his arms crossed over his chest. Beside him, Hana Jones was frantically scribbling in a notebook, her eyes darting between the other training teams.
John caught Maya’s eye and gave a small, firm nod—the "welder’s signal." He wasn't looking at her as a student; he was looking at her as his partner.
"Time's up, ladies!" Avan Oliver yelled from the control booth, his voice booming over the speakers. "Clear the floor for Team B. And Maya? Try not to blow up the ventilation system next time. It’s expensive!"
As Maya walked out of the chamber, she felt the cold stares of the other students. But as soon as she cleared the gates, Hana was in her face, holding up her notebook.
"Okay, listen up," Hana whispered, her pigtails twitching. "Team C from the North District is using a fire-and-metal combo. They’re flashy but slow. But Cassie? She’s the problem. She’s trying to 'use' you like a battery instead of a partner."
"She’s right," John said, falling into step with Maya as they walked toward the bus stop. "In the kitchen, if I try to force the grill to cook faster, I just burn the meat. You can't let her dictate your flow, Maya. You have your own frequency."
"It doesn't matter, John," Maya sighed, looking back at the towering Academy spires. "The tech there... the simulations... they’re built for her way of fighting. I don't fit in that chamber."
John stopped walking and looked at her, a slow, determined grin spreading across his face. "Then stop trying to fit. If the Academy's gym is broken, I know a place that’s built for people like us."
Maya looked at him, confused. "Where?"
"The basement of The Corner Plate," John said. "It’s time for the Lewis Method."24Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6ZHZo79Dy9
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