Area C - Dome Stadium No. 3 of Aetherium High.
Stepping through the thick soundproof doors, a blast of frigid air laced with the harsh stench of ozone and machine oil assaulted the nose. The interior space was overwhelmingly massive, capable of swallowing tens of thousands of people. Artificial light beamed down from thousands of hexagonal prisms on the ceiling, turning the central arena into a dazzling yet suffocating stage.
Contrary to the glamorous exterior, the air inside congealed with tension. The thumping of erratic heartbeats, the dry swallows of anxiety, and the hushed, nervous whispers of hundreds of students in the stands forged a grim background track.
In the epicenter of the arena sat a colossal cubic glass cage, reinforced with a transparent force field to ensure absolute safety for the spectators. Inside it, a steel monster stood as motionless as a boulder - The Experimental Combat Robot Mark-IV.
"The President is personally proctoring this area? It's an honor, but..."
"Just look at her... The pressure is insane..."
All eyes gravitated toward the high control podium, where a feminine silhouette stood with crossed arms, her black cloak fluttering slightly despite the still air.
Miyako Kuroki. The uncrowned queen of Aetherium High.
Her pitch-black hair cascaded down, dark as the night, accentuating her porcelain skin and sharp, ruby-red eyes. She didn't need to utter a single word; her mere presence was enough to freeze the freshmen into absolute silence, like cicadas in winter.
"We begin right now!"
Miyako's voice cut through the surround-sound speakers, crystal clear yet striking like iron, shattering any lingering distractions.
"This is the stage for you to prove your worth. I do not care if you have powerful backing or if you're some proclaimed genius from nowhere. Before that Robot, everyone is equal. Skills, tactics, or adaptability - show me everything you have!"
She flicked her wrist decisively:
"Examinees 12655, 12656, 12657! Enter the arena!"
Down in the stands, Makoto sat swallowed by the crowd, letting out a long, heavy sigh. He rested his chin on his hand, his eyelids heavy as lead.
"Testing alone? And I have to fight that chunk of metal... How annoying."
The first few students stepped into the glass cage, faces painted with determination. But that confidence was swiftly pulverized.
CLANG! CRASH!
The Mark-IV Robot, towering nearly 5 meters with its ultra-durable Titanium alloy armor, moved with a fluidity that mocked its massive frame. Its gigantic mechanical arm swung, tearing through the air with a bone-chilling shriek.
"A-Aghhh!!!"
A student wielding a spear was swatted away, his weapon snapping in half. The next one frantically tried to snipe the joints with an energy rifle, but the robot's protective force field flared, neutralizing all the damage.
"Too weak. Fragmented attack plan. Sluggish reflexes."
High on the podium, Miyako coldly tapped her evaluations into a tablet, showing zero mercy. "Next!"
...
An hour passed.
The atmosphere in the stadium morphed from tense to pure despair. Dozens of students had failed. Some were knocked unconscious; others were too paralyzed by fear to move and had to be stretchered out by the medical team. The Mark-IV still stood tall, bearing only a few microscopic scratches on its chassis, an invincible gatekeeper.
"Motaro! 68 points! Return to your seat!"
The announcement rang out for the student with the highest score so far. While he beamed with pride, the rest of the hall held their breath, shirts drenched in cold sweat, dreading their turn. Meanwhile, in a hidden corner of the stands...
"Zzz... Zzz..."
Ichinose Makoto, humanity's hope (or disappointment), was sleeping soundly, his head resting against the railing. His soft snores drowned in the noise, but that slacking posture stood out bizarrely.
"ICHINOSE MAKOTO!!!!"
A frantic shout amplified through the high-capacity speakers exploded in his ears, making him jump so hard he nearly tumbled into the row below.
"Huh!!? Y-yeah... i-is there a fire???" Makoto bolted upright, eyes half-open, his hair sticking up like a bird's nest, looking around in utter confusion.
Hundreds of eyes locked onto him. Snickers rippled through the crowd before erupting into roaring laughter.
"He was actually sleeping!"
"Dozing off during the President's exam? He's got a death wish!"
Up on the podium, Miyako massaged her temples, a blue vein throbbing on her forehead. She glared daggers down at the black-haired student who was currently scratching his head and laughing sheepishly.
"I've called you four times, Ichinose." Her tone was dead flat, dripping with a killing intent that seemed to drop the room's temperature.
"Ah... sorry, President. The AC was just so nice and cool, I accidentally... dozed off for a sec."
"Get to the arena immediately. Or take an F and pack your bags."
"Y-yes ma'am, right away!"
Makoto shuffled down the stairs, heading toward the glass cage. Mocking stares clung to him from all sides like needles.
"Look at the way he walks, sluggish like an old man."
"1000 yen says he gets punched into orbit in 10 seconds."
"Don't be so cruel, make it 20."
Ignoring the malicious whispers, Makoto stepped through the magnetic doors and entered the center of the arena. The heavy doors slammed shut behind him with a loud Thud, locking him in a sealed space with the steel beast.
Makoto looked up. Under the blinding floodlights, the Mark-IV looked even more colossal and terrifying than from afar. White smoke hissed from the hydraulic tubes on its arms; its glowing red sensor eyes locked onto the new target.
"Man... What did they feed you to make you this huge? The design has way too many redundant parts." He critiqued internally, his right hand resting lazily on the hilt of the wooden sword at his waist - the standard-issue weapon for the exam.
The Robot powered up.
VROOOM...
The jet turbines on its back shrieked. Unlike the probing movements it used earlier, the governing AI seemingly sensed the opponent's lack of defense and opted for an immediate, lethal strike.
Five tons of steel launched forward with the velocity of an F1 race car. The floor violently violently with its every step.
"It's charging! D-dodge! Get out of the way!" A female student in the stands screamed instinctively.
But Makoto stood completely still. No combat stance. No drawn sword. He just stood there, relaxed as if admiring the scenery, his pitch-black eyes reflecting the colossal fist hurtling toward him.
"Lunatic! Does he want to die?"
"It's over."
The fist, carrying a crushing weight, slammed into the exact spot Makoto occupied.
CRASH!!!
The reinforced concrete floor shattered, debris exploding in all directions. A thick cloud of dust billowed up, entirely obscuring the view. The entire stadium gasped in horror. Many squeezed their eyes shut, too terrified to witness the gory aftermath.
But...
When the dust settled, at the bottom of the crater carved by the punch... no one was there.
The Robot froze. Its sensors spun wildly in all directions, frantically scanning for the target that had vanished from its radar.
"Who are you looking for?" A whisper drifted directly from behind it.
In the millisecond before the fist connected, Makoto had moved. Not a dodge, but a "slide" through space. A step as light as a feather, yet faster than the blink of an eye.
His hand had already gripped the hilt.
Swish.
A dry, clean sound echoed.
No massive explosion. No blinding aura. Only a singular, solitary sword strike. A brilliant white flash, thin as a thread yet sharper than any laser, sliced through the steel behemoth's massive frame.
Makoto stood with his back to the Robot, slowly sheathing the wooden sword that was now splintering from the sheer force.
Click.
The sound of the sword locking into its scabbard rang out in the absolute silence.
SCREECH... SCREECH... CRASH!!!
The gigantic Mark-IV slid diagonally. Its upper torso slowly detached from its legs, collapsing onto the arena floor with an earth-shattering thud. Severed circuits showered sparks; machine oil bled across the concrete.
One strike. Cleaving the ultra-durable Titanium armor like slicing through melting butter.
The entire hall died. No one dared to breathe heavily. Thousands of eyes widened to their limits, jaws dropping, completely speechless.
Then, like a delayed time bomb, the silence shattered.
"EHHHHHHHHHH!!!!??????"
Screams of disbelief ripped through the stadium's dome.
"W-what the hell!? Are my eyes playing tricks on me?"
"One strike? He cleaved that Class IV monster in half with ONE STRIKE?"
"Impossible! Utterly impossible! How can a wooden sword cut Titanium? The Robot must have been defective!"
"Exactly! Cheating! It's definitely rigged!"
Astonishment rapidly mutated into denial and envy. Human instinct refused to accept that a nameless nobody, a sleeping slacker, wielded power surpassing even the most elite Sentinels. The booing began to swell.
THOOM!
An authoritative stomp echoed through the speakers, rattling everyone's eardrums.
High on the podium, Miyako Kuroki stood tall, a dark red aura radiating from her body, crushing the noise. It was the raw pressure of a high-ranking Sentinel.
"Silence!"
She barked, her glare sweeping over the chaotic crowd below like she was looking at vermin.
"The high-speed cameras recorded everything. The pressure sensors are functioning perfectly. There are zero technical faults."
She paused, directing her gaze down at Makoto - who was currently yawning amidst the wreckage, completely indifferent to the world around him.
"Ichinose Makoto. Result: Cleared. Time: 0.05 seconds. Evaluation: Fatal damage."
Her voice held a faint tremble, though barely noticeable.
"Perfect score."
Makoto gave a half-hearted bow, then casually strolled out of the glass cage, leaving behind a legend that had only just begun.
◆ ◆ ◆
"Today is exhausting, I'm starving..."
Leaving the suffocating testing area, Makoto headed straight for the school cafeteria. He needed to refuel after that "light workout."
Aetherium High's cafeteria was as luxurious as a 5-star restaurant. A massive buffet line offered every delicacy from Asian to European cuisine, served by automated robotic arms.
Makoto grabbed an oversized bowl of steaming Ramen and an icy glass of orange juice. He had just found a quiet corner to sit down when...
"Makoto!!!"
Taeru sprinted over, slamming his tray of curry onto the table, his face completely pale.
"W-what the hell did you do!?"
"Hm? Eating lunch, what else?" Makoto nonchalantly slurped the chewy noodles, the absolute picture of innocence.
"Don't play dumb! I heard the rumors blowing up everywhere! You sliced a Mark-IV in half in Area C with just a wooden sword? Is that true?"
"Oh, that..." Makoto swallowed a slice of chashu, shrugging. "The robot charged, I just casually swung my sword, and it broke. Probably just crappy quality."
"Crappy quality my foot! I fought one in Area D and got beat to a pulp, broke my sword just to leave a few dents on it. You say 'casually swung' like you were just swatting a fly!"
Taeru clutched his head, looking at his friend like he was a monster. But then, he sighed, letting out a laugh:
"Well, whatever, as long as you're okay. When I first heard the news, I thought you got smashed into a pulp."
Mid-conversation, the broadcasting speakers crackled back to life:
"Attention... Emergency announcement from the Administration. As the testing has concluded ahead of schedule, and... um... several arena areas require immediate maintenance due to severe damage, all afternoon classes are canceled."
Taeru shot Makoto a sideways glare. Makoto whistled, averting his eyes.
"Students are permitted to leave immediately. Results will be posted on the central bulletin board tomorrow! Have a good afternoon!"
"Awesome! Early dismissal!" Makoto cheered, quickly downing the rest of his broth.
The two friends left the cafeteria, stepping out of the school gates just as the sunset began to dye the Tokyo sky crimson. The skyscrapers cast dark silhouettes against the blazing orange backdrop, painting a magnificent yet nostalgic view.
But the moment he stepped past the gates, Makoto's smile vanished. He suddenly remembered a life-or-death issue far more critical than fighting robots: Where was he going to sleep tonight?
His luggage consisted of a single small duffel bag. His wallet definitely didn't have enough to rent a hotel in this notoriously expensive city.
He froze in his tracks, watching the bustling crowd head home, a wave of displaced loneliness washing over him.
"What's wrong? You have the word 'Homeless' written all over your face."
Taeru stood next to him, casually sipping a can of Coke.
"Huh!!? H-how did you know?? Are you a psychic?" Makoto jumped.
"Just looking at your gloomy face gives it away. You just transferred, haven't registered for the dorms, and have no relatives here, right?"
"... The fact that you're spot-on is scaring me." Makoto scratched his head, forcing a bitter smile. "Guess I'll go sleep in the park with the stray cats tonight."
"Are you crazy? There's a magnetic storm forecasted for tonight, you'll freeze to death." Taeru patted his friend's shoulder. "There's a cheap student dorm nearby. How about... you come share a room with me? My room is a double, and my old roommate just moved out last week."
"Really? But... won't that be a bother?" Makoto's eyes lit up like car headlights.
"Not at all! Having someone to split the utility bills is great. Just treat it like your own home!"
"You're an absolute lifesaver! I owe you my life, Gyokushi!"
"Alright, alright, don't give me that sappy look, it's grossing me out!" Taeru laughed loudly, then suddenly remembered something.
"Oh crap! I forgot I need to hit the supermarket for some discounted dinner groceries. You head to the room first!"
He dug into his pockets, shoving a keycard into Makoto's hand.
"Walk straight to that intersection and take a left, the tallest building painted white is the boys' dorm. Our room is 712, on the 7th floor."
Taeru waved and sprinted off, but after a few steps, he turned back and shouted:
"Oh, forgot to tell you! The elevator is under maintenance, so you'll have to take the stairs! Be careful on the way!"
"Uh... Hold on... The stairs...?"
Makoto stood rooted to the spot, watching his friend's back disappear around the corner. He looked up at the distant skyscraper, silently counting the floors.
7th floor.
For a guy who just cleaved a 5-ton robot in half, this was nothing. But for a "slacker" like Makoto, it was pure torture.
"Well then... guess I'll treat it as a late-night cardio session. My life really is pure suffering..."
Under the streetlights that were just flickering to life, the young man's silhouette trudged forward, his shadow stretching long across the pavement. A long, chaotic day at Aetherium High had closed its curtains, but his destiny had only just begun.