The morning sun bled through the high, arched windows of the Academy's main concourse, but the air felt heavy. Despite the chaos of the previous night, the Imperial machine didn't stop for a single breath.
"Attention, students," the overhead mana-emitters chimed with their usual, melodic efficiency. "Today marks the commencement of the annual Dungeon Drive Test. Tiers D through B are to report to the Sub-Level 15 Gate. Participation is mandatory for year-end ranking."
Beside me, Leo was frantically checking his gear. "Man, I didn't sleep a wink. Did you hear the sirens last night? They say some 'Glitch' almost fried the Sub-Level servers. I thought for sure they'd cancel the Drive."
"The Empire doesn't cancel its traditions for a few sparks, Leo," I murmured, leaning back in my hover-chair.
I looked down at my hands. They were pale and steady, showing no sign of the Void-Lock I had placed on the Inquisitor just hours ago. To the rest of the Academy, I was still the "Dud" heir—a piece of fragile glass in a room full of hammers.
The elevator ride down to Sub-Level 15 was crowded. Students from the Middle Tiers looked at us D-Ranks with a mixture of pity and annoyance. To them, we were just obstacles in the race for a high score.
When the doors opened, the air tasted of sulfur and ancient, damp stone. The entrance to the Obsidian Labyrinth—a Grade-C stabilized dungeon—loomed like a hungry mouth.
Standing at the gate was General Valerius—my father. His golden armor seemed to drink the light of the torches, and his gaze was a physical weight as it swept over the line of students. He wasn't looking for a "Ghost" today; he was looking for excellence. Or, in my case, a reason to finally look away.
"The rules are standard," the General announced. "Pairs will enter. You have sixty minutes to retrieve a Mana-Core Shard from the first floor. If you fail to return, your rank will be frozen for the semester."
"Cassian Valerius," the proctor called out. "Partnered with... Aurelia Solaris."
A ripple of whispers broke the professional silence. The Princess and the Failure. It was a pairing that made no sense to anyone—except the two people involved.
Aurelia stepped forward, her regal mask perfectly in place. She was dressed in white-and-gold combat leathers, her rapier humming at her hip. She didn't look at me as she took the handles of my hover-chair.
"Highness," I murmured as she began to push me toward the shimmering violet portal. "Try not to look too excited to be seen with a 'me'."
"I'm a very good actress, Cassian," she whispered back, her voice barely audible. "Just make sure you don't actually die in there. My reputation can only take so much."
We stepped through the portal. The world vanished into a blur of violet light before solidifying into a cavern of jagged black glass. The "Dungeon Pressure"—the raw, unfiltered mana of the Rift—slammed into us.
For most students, this pressure was an exhausting weight. For me, it was a banquet. The Void-Core in my chest thrummed, wanting to suck the ambient energy right out of the walls. I had to consciously suppress it, forcing my breathing to become shallow and ragged.
"The scrying eyes are active," Aurelia said, her hand resting on the hilt of her blade. "We have twenty minutes before the first wave of Stone-Stalkers."
"Then let's keep it 'normal'," I said, letting out a synthetic cough.
A Stone-Stalker—a beast made of jagged obsidian and glowing red mana—leaped from a nearby ledge. It was a standard dungeon encounter, but for a D-Rank, it was a lethal threat.
Aurelia moved with the grace of a sunbeam. Her rapier flashed, carving a golden arc through the air. She wasn't using her full power; she was fighting like a "Middle-Tier" Princess should. She parried the beast's claws, driving it back toward a cluster of glass pillars.
"Now, Cassian!" she called out, playing the role of the frustrated partner. "Do something besides sit there!"
I "panicked." I fumbled with a small, handheld mana-disruptor—a common tool for those with low cores. I aimed it at the ceiling above the beast.
Under the cover of the disruptor's noisy, blue sparks, I flicked a microscopic grain of Void-Gravity at the base of a glass pillar.
CRACK.
The pillar shattered, sending a ton of obsidian shards raining down on the Stone-Stalker. The beast shrieked as it was crushed, its red core flickering out.
"Lucky shot," Aurelia remarked for the cameras, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. She walked over to the rubble and retrieved the glowing Mana-Core Shard.
We emerged from the portal exactly forty-five minutes later. We were among the first to return, looking appropriately disheveled. Aurelia held the shard high, her expression one of "royal duty fulfilled."
I slumped in my chair, looking paler than usual, my handkerchief spotted with fake blood.
My father, the General, watched us approach. His eyes moved from the shard to my trembling hands. There was no pride in his gaze—only a dull, lingering disappointment that I had survived another year.
"Shard verified," the Proctor announced. "Cassian Valerius and Aurelia Solaris: Pass."
As we moved toward the elevators to return to our regular classes, the High Priest walked past us. He was heading toward the dungeon entrance with a team of elite Inquisitors, his face a mask of cold fury.
"Something is wrong," Aurelia whispered as the elevator doors shut. "The High Priest didn't even look at the scores. He's looking for something inside the dungeon."
"He's looking for the residue," I said, my voice returning to its steady, cold tone. "But he won't find it. I didn't leave a trail. I left a ghost."
The elevator dinged, opening back into the bright, sterile halls of the Academy. The sun was still shining, the students were still gossiping about the test, and life was moving on as if the world hadn't almost ended the night before.
"Go to your class, Aurelia," I said, a dark glint in my eyes. "I have a 'Weapon Tuning' lab with Vane. "