The sharp, metallic blast of the morning horn shattered the quiet of Block B at precisely 0500 hours.
Sunny was already awake.
He sat on the edge of his narrow bunk, his boots laced tight, his dark eyes fully alert in the grey twilight filtering through the high window slot.
In the slums of Sector 25, sleeping past the first light meant waking up with empty pockets—or worse.
The habit was etched too deeply into his bones to ever leave.
Beside him, the bone-white silhouette of the Mountain Scavenger dissolved into a shower of white sparks, flowing back into his soul core with a silent, comfortable warmth.
‘Three weeks,’ Sunny reminded himself, standing up and smoothing down his dark training jacket.
‘Three weeks to learn how these rich kids think before we all get dropped into the meat grinder.’
When he reached Subterranean Hall 3, the atmosphere was markedly different from the previous day.
The casual arrogance that had filled the air during the baseline testing had evaporated, replaced by a tense, nervous silence.
His glowing crimson optic swept over the gathered Sleepers with cold, unblinking scrutiny.
“Yesterday, you played with steel,” Jet began, his rough voice echoing off the stone walls.
“Today, you learn formation combat. The Nightmare Spell does not send you to the Dream Realm to fight duels on polished mats. It drops you into ruined cities, toxic swamps, and desolate mountains where Nightmare Creatures hunt in packs.”
He tapped his cane against the floor, bringing up a massive holographic map of a jagged, black mountain range.
“When a wave hits your line, individual skill means nothing if your vanguard collapses,” Jet continued, turning his gaze toward Caster, Nephis, and the other prominent legacy students.
“You will be split into tactical squads of five. One vanguard, two skirmishers, one ranged support, and one scout.”
Murmurs rippled through the hall as the automated screens above the weapon racks flashed with new squad assignments.
Sunny looked up at the board, his dark blue eyes searching for Squad 7.
[Squad 7]
[Vanguard: Nephis]
[Skirmisher: Caster]
[Ranged Support: Kai]
[Scout: Sunless]
Sunny stared at the glowing names on the screen, a cold, bitter knot tightening in his chest.
‘Of course,’ he thought, his jaw setting into a hard line.
‘The Spell—or whoever manages these assignments—has a sick sense of humor.
They put the street rat right in the middle of the brightest stars in the academy.’
Nephis was already standing near the tactical ring, her tall frame relaxed, her silver hair tied back neatly as she inspected a standard-issue straight sword.
Caster stood a few paces away, offering a polite, charming smile to the gathering crowd, though his golden eyes carried a sharp, calculating glint.
Sunny detached himself from the shadow of the pillar and walked slowly toward Squad 7, his short sword hanging loosely at his belt.
“Well,” Sunny muttered softly under his breath, his living shadow creeping up to his heels in the dark light.
“At least if a monster attacks us, it’ll probably try to eat the silver-haired girl first.”