2025-04-11 21:32:02Richard's Pov
"I’m alive.", the thought flashed through my head as I woke up. Light seeped through my eyelids, followed by the sterile scent of antiseptic and the soft beeping of monitors. I opened my eyes slowly. I was in the academy infirmary, wrapped in clean white sheets and bandages. Healing runes faintly glowed on the walls, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. Above me, a holographic display hovered midair: Survived: 5 hours, 59 minutes. Status: Stabilized. One minute short of the six-hour threshold. I’d almost died, and yet I couldn't make it. The door slid open with a hiss. An instructor stepped in. Broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed, and wearing the neutral robes of the Academy’s combat division, he studied me with the quiet intensity of a soldier sizing up a battlefield. “Hollowborn,” he said. “You made it.” I tried to sit up. Pain flared in my side, and I gritted my teeth. He raised a hand. “Easy. You suffered four cracked ribs, a fractured clavicle, internal bruising, and severe laws destabilization. You’re lucky to be conscious.” “I’ve had worse,” I muttered. He arched a brow. “Doubtful.” Despite myself, I let out a ragged chuckle. My lips cracked from the dryness. “The trial… what happened after?” He leaned against the wall, arms folded. “The maze collapsed ten minutes after the bell rang. You and two others were the last standing. Most cadets were eliminated in the first three hours. You guys lasted the longest—by far.” I blinked. “Two others?” He nodded. “Caleb Hemmins. And Ara Ash.” Of course. The golden boy and the seer goddess. He paused. “But you’re the one everyone’s talking about.” That caught me off guard. “I’m sorry—what?” He tapped the air, and a news stream hovered to life. HOLLOWBORN PLACES TOP 100 IN MIRACLE’S ENTRANCE TRIAL Anonymous Cadet Outsmarts Elite Combatants Did We Just Witness a Historical Event? My name wasn’t on the headlines. Just my trial number: 1115. But the footage, the breakdowns, the analyst reactions—it was all me. Dodging, crawling, using traps, surviving impossible odds. The moment Null Drive activated, the footage fuzzed, static distorting the feed—but even the interference caused a stir. The instructor turned the projection off. “The council’s calling it an anomaly. You weren’t supposed to place. Not as a Hollowborn. Statistically impossible.” “I’ve always had bad luck with statistics,” I said dryly. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Listen carefully. What you did back there—that wasn’t just surviving. That was a declaration. And declarations come with consequences.” My throat tightened. “The other students—” “Will either try to recruit you or kill you. There’s no in-between at the Miracle.” He tapped a screen by the door. “Your body’s stable enough for now. Rest another hour. Then get up. You’ll want to be in the Hall for the Rankings Reveal.” I nodded. He turned and walked out without another word. An hour later, I limped into the Grand Hall, bandaged and limping slightly, but standing under my own power. The place was packed. The first-year cadets—about 600 of them—were gathered in silence. Some stood tall in their immaculate uniforms. Others, bruised and weary, leaned against walls. Many were missing. Eliminated. High above us, dozens of instructors floated in observation platforms, eyes scanning the crowd. A massive magical display hovered in the air. MIRACLE ACADEMY RANKINGS – YEAR ONE COHORT The numbers began to flash, scroll, and settle. I scanned them. 1. Caleb Hemmins - Rank D- 2. Ara Ash - Rank E+ 3. Nyx Soren - Rank E 4. Gin Soren - Rank E 5. Lena Vey - Rank E The top five were exactly who everyone expected. Legends in the making. The crowd murmured as the rest of the rankings filtered in—names, affiliations, battle points, and time survived. Around rank 70, students were visibly clenching fists, whispering. Then— Rank 96: Richard Sol | Hollowborn | Total Trial Score: 82.7 The hall went silent. Dozens of heads turned. Eyes found me—some wide with disbelief, others narrow with hate. The murmuring returned. Louder. Angrier. Unbelieving. “That can’t be right—he’s a Hollowborn.” “Rank 96? That’s higher than over half the Awakeneds!” “What did he do? Bribe someone?” I stood there, jaw locked, feeling every ounce of their stares. Lena Vey was watching from across the room, her arms folded, expression unreadable. Gin and Nyx whispered among themselves, one of them nodding in my direction. Ara Ash didn’t even blink. Her gaze was elsewhere—beyond us, calculating something none of us understood. But Caleb? He turned fully and met my eyes. No smile. No smirk. Just a slow tilt of his head, like he was trying to fit me into a story he hadn’t written yet. “Not over,” his lips mouthed silently. I believed him. The head instructor stepped forward, voice amplified magically. “Rankings will remain locked until the next evaluation match in thirty days. Until then, combat between cadets is forbidden outside of sanctioned duels.” A ripple of dissatisfaction passed through the crowd. “No exceptions,” the instructor added. “Any violation of this rule will result in immediate expulsion.” He waved a hand, and the rankings vanished. “Classes begin tomorrow. Dismissed.” Later that night, I sat in the temporary dorm quarters, watching the replay of the trial on my tablet. I fast-forwarded through most of it—until I found the moment. Null Drive. The screen glitched. Static flooded the view. Even the instructors’ runes couldn’t track it properly. I touched the screen. “What is this?” The ability had activated on instinct. I didn’t understand the core behind it yet. But I knew it had to be linked to my sacrificial law core—the one I was told shouldn’t even be functional. It disconnects people from the laws temporarily. The brief moment when Caleb had stood powerless proved it. But I’d almost died using it. My vitals had flatlined for twelve seconds before the medics got to me. “I need to train and control it. I will never let myself be humiliated again.”, I resolved in my mind.
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Richard's POV The training vault beneath Miracle Academy was a tomb of silence, its stone walls etched with runes that hummed like a distant heartbeat. I stood alone in the center of the chamber, sweat dripping from my brow, the air heavy with the weight of laws I was trying to tame. My glyphs pulsed faintly under my skin—sacrificial, elemental, constructive, quantum—all whispering possibilities I couldn’t yet grasp. Null Drive and Null Counter were my weapons, but they were wild, untamed, threatening to tear me apart every time I reached for them. “Focus,” I muttered, clenching my fists. The vault’s runes flickered in response, amplifying the laws I channeled. I needed control. Rank E- wasn’t enough—not for Squad Seven, not for the eyes that now watched me with fear or hate, not for the fire in my chest that refused to let me kneel. I activated Null Drive. The chamber’s lights dimmed, the air thickening as laws receded like a retreating tide. My core strained, glyphs flaring gray.
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Chapter Six: The Legendary Team Seven
Richard's PovThere was a tension in the air that morning. Not the kind that crackled with laws or whispered of danger—it was heavier, subtler, like the kind that settled in a room before a brawl. It clung to my uniform, tight at the collar, irritating at the cuffs. Or maybe that was just the way everyone stared at me as I stepped into the Cadet Training Grounds.The courtyard was massive, divided into zones—combat rings, sparring dummies, laws conduits, and even an arena encased in transparent shielding where mock battles could be fought at full force. Around me, cadets were stretching, sparring, laughing. Some quieted when I passed. Others didn’t bother to hide the way they whispered.“Is that him?”“Number 96? No way. That guy’s Hollowborn.”“Miracle’s charity case.”I clenched my jaw and walked faster.An instructor met me halfway. He wore no insignia, just the dull-gray robe of a training overseer, his face as blank as a polished blade.“Richard Sol?” he asked.“Yes, sir.”“You’v
