The atmosphere was tense, thick with anticipation, as Dawn stood with the other initiates, the faint hum of the assistants' devices lingering in the air. They were ready, but not yet prepared for what was about to come.
The true instructors had gathered in the distance, their watchful eyes scanning the room. Valeris stood unmoving, as always, his expression as stoic as the stone beneath his feet. The assistants, with their strange mirrors and glimmering crystals, were busy, their voices quiet as they arranged the tools of the trial.
Dawn's heart beat steadily in his chest. He had waited for this day, struggledfor this moment. His resolve was strong—stronger than any of the others, perhaps. But still, the weight of the unknown pressed on him, subtle yet suffocating. There was a coldness in the air, an unfamiliar pressure, and just as it seemed everything was about to move, the world itself shifted.
With a sudden jolt, Dawn's feet were lifted from the ground. He inhaled sharply, feeling the ground beneath him dissolve into nothingness, the world around him warping and distorting into an unbearable blur. The air rushed past his ears in a cacophony of noise, his heart pounding in his chest as if the very forces of the world were turning against him.
And then, just as suddenly, it stopped.
---
Dawn stumbled forward, his legs unsteady as his feet hit solid ground. His senses exploded in all directions. He wasn't in the academy anymore.
The landscape before him was foreign and brutal—a wasteland of cracked earth, jagged ruins, and a sky painted in shades of gray and black. The air was thick with smoke, and the faint smell of ash burned at the back of his throat. There was something oppressive in the air, as though the very land was steeped in death.
The ground beneath him cracked and scorched as if it had been scorched by a hundred battles. It felt wrong, but the eerie familiarity of it gnawed at him.
He took a step forward, his heart racing. He knew this place.
His legs froze.
No.
A flash of memories hit him like a punch to the gut. The screams, the heat of fire, the bitter taste of blood and smoke. A battlefield, one like the countless ones he had witnessed as a child. It was a place he never wanted to return to, a place he had fought his entire life to escape.
---
The battlefield.
Dawn's breath faltered as the memories swarmed. It was almost suffocating, the weight of them pulling at him, making his knees wobble. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He was back in it, back to the place where he had lost so much.
His vision blurred, and for a moment, he swore he could hear the shouting in the distance, the sound of weapons clashing, the shrill cries of pain and anguish. His fingers tightened into fists as he fought to control his body, to stop shaking, to stand.
But it was too much.
The weight of his past—a past he had never fully come to terms with—crushed him.
He collapsed to his knees, his breath ragged, his chest heaving. His eyes darted around, but it was all the same: the desolate wasteland, the ruins. The battlefield. The chaos.
---
Far above, the instructors watched through their lenses, silent and unmoving. Valeris observed with his usual detachment, his fingers idly stroking the edge of his chin. Instructor Eleanor stood next to him, her expression unreadable, but the subtle tension in her posture revealed her interest. They weren't just watching the students. They were watching them.
When Dawn faltered, dropping to his knees, Valeris did not speak. He simply stared ahead, his expression still, but his eyes were sharp. The assistant instructors exchanged uncomfortable glances, but no one dared to comment. There was an unsettling stillness to the observation room.
---
Back in the illusion, the other initiates were adjusting, trying to make sense of their surroundings. Gary, ever composed, took in the battlefield with a cool, calculating gaze. He'd prepared for the trial, but not like this. This place—it felt wrong to him, like a place of chaos. But he quickly steeled himself, shifting his weight to his legs and taking a slow, deliberate step forward.
The same didn't apply to Luna. She stood tall, her face unreadable as the wind ruffled her dark hair. But in her eyes, there was a flicker—a flash of recognition. She had never been on a battlefield like this one, but she had known violence before. The weight of responsibility she carried for her people, the fear of her own inadequacies—it all seemed to merge with the dark skies above her. The pressure was unrelenting, but she would not yield.
In the distance, Cedric, a burly, intimidating figure among the initiates, let out a low growl as he flexed his fists, ready to charge forward. His thick muscles rippled beneath his clothes, the brute strength he carried undeniable. He had always relied on his physical prowess, and the battlefield—this trial—was a place where he could show that strength. The others might falter, but not him. Not Cedric. He was made for this.
And then there was Ingrid, the scholar—quiet, observant, and deeply intellectual. She blinked, adjusting the glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, her mind working in overdrive. The landscape before her was not a place of battle, but a puzzle, one she needed to decipher. It was logical, not chaotic. And though the chaos was overwhelming to most, she knew it could be overcome with reason.
---
Back in the illusion, Dawn's struggle didn't go unnoticed. The other initiates—Gary, Luna, Cedric, Ingrid—had already begun to adapt, to forge ahead. But Dawn, the one who had always prided himself on moving through challenges with grace, now seemed like a shell of himself.
Instructor Eleanor's eyes flicked to Valeris, the slightest shift of concern in her expression. He, however, didn't flinch. He simply watched the monitor in front of him, his sharp eyes tracing Dawn's faltering movements.
So this is how it would begin.
---
Dawn remained kneeling, gasping for breath, his body trembling as the battlefield closed in around him. Every piece of him wanted to escape. But the trial wasn't about escape.
The instructors said nothing. Not yet.
---
But as the trial continued, the others would learn quickly—Dawn was not the only one facing their inner turmoil. Many more succumbed to their fear as they walked through the battlefield.