Page 220 of Interion

So we agreed to try finding each other during the test, since our chances of victory would be better together. Even forming pairs would be a win, but that was difficult—the field was huge, and we could end up in opposite areas. Hiro had the biggest advantage on his own, but from the way he looked at Aish, I knew his focus would be finding her during the course. Not that she needed it—Aish was strong, smart, fast, and perfectly capable on her own. The two of them kept exchanging sidelong glances; Hiro hadn’t given up, and Aish seemed increasingly irritated.

Breno, for his part, had ended his fling with an army captain and now seemed involved with a lieutenant much older than him—somewhere around four hundred years old. Being the good friend I was, I started giving him grief about it, just like he did whenever he insinuated I had cobwebs between my legs.

During Friday fights, I was making progress against the other students—I’d already beaten more than half the class, which left Zion and Breno increasingly proud of my small victories. The only ones I still couldn’t beat were my three friends, plus Adrian and Ethan.

Adele was still recovering in the hospital, leaving her room in the psychiatric ward only for academy training, always accompanied by an Amperian hired to escort her. Sometimes on visiting days, I spotted her younger sister wandering the corridors, always curious about the equipment and everything around her. Lana, who to my surprise had the psychic gift, was a smaller version of Adele—the same features, the same gray-blue eyes—but with a calm, cheerful personality. I wondered if Adele had ever been like that. If that’s who she would have been, had she not suffered years of abuse. I started buying chocolates and giving them to the little girl whenever I saw her in the corridor. She wasn’t comfortable talking to me, but she accepted the chocolates and then ran off to her older sister’s room. Adele had forbidden me from coming near her bed.

Soon autumn gave way to winter, and each day grew colder. It was my least favorite season, and like Aish, I turned into a natural grump. But even though I complained, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for her. Amperians were accustomed to high temperatures—programmed to withstand a three-day trek through scorching deserts without water or shade. But the cold? That was their natural enemy. Meanwhile, Naoki, Adele, and the other Yonserians in the class seemed perfectly relaxed, parading around in light clothing as if they were finally home for those three months.

Now there were only two weeks until the tests, and the city of Interion was already filling with foreigners for the grand opening event. The streets were being decorated with lights and ancient paintings symbolizing the marks of the Gods. Each God had their own color and specific runes, and people had begun decorating their doors with the symbols of whichever God they would ask for blessings.

The opening night of the tests coincided with Lúmiran. As soon as the first snow touched the ground and the aurora borealis shone on the horizon, we would be presented to the Gods before the entire city in a parade of armies. We had to choose a divinity to ask for blessing and protection during the test, and we would be painted with the colors that represented them: blue runes for the God of Intelligence, red for the Goddess of War, green for the God of Life, yellow for the Goddess of Love, and black for the Goddess of Death.

During the presentation, each student would cut their palm and let ten drops of blood fall into a bowl. This blood would be mixed with paints and given to the student’s parents, partners, or guardians. Afterward, each participant would be taken somewhere private to have their entire body painted with runes. This part was more of a blessing ritual, a tradition steeped in meaning. The person chosen to paint us had to be someone we loved, because love was essential that night—it was the bond that linked us to the spiritual realm. That person’s feelings would bring the blessing of the Gods. Serguei, Ambrose, and Zion all offered to be my family representative, but my choice was never in doubt. I chose my partner without hesitation and now was simply waiting for the big day.

Chapter 55

I stared at the mat in front of me as if it might somehow come to life and attack me back. I was waiting to be called for the next match. It was Friday, the last class of the year, and my emotions were a tangled mess. Happiness and sadness clashed, swinging back and forth. I looked at my friends with an ache in my chest—this was the last time I’d see them as training partners. After the tests, everyone would go their separate ways. Most would join the armies and stay together; others would return to their cities. Few would remain within the walls, and those weren’t my friends. So for me, this was my last day with them.

Adele and Lorena were fighting, and Adele lost. The Yonserian stepped off the mat and had to pass by me, avoiding me like I was contagious. Every training session was like this—she’d see me, look away, and keep her distance, alone and lost in her own thoughts. By now, almost all the students had already fought, and I was buzzing with anticipation for my turn. My feet wouldn’t stay still, and anyone watching would’ve thought I was dancing in place. This would be my last fight, so I was determined to win. But looking at my opponents, I wasn’t so sure I could. The options were Hiro, Aish, Breno, Naoki, and Ethan. It seemed Zion had saved the toughest for last, and I stared at him, trying to figure out what he was playing at. He just stared back, challenging me.

“Kyller and Breno,” Zion announced, flashing me a teasing smirk. “Get on the mat.”

Breno and I locked eyes from where we stood waiting, a mix of excitement and mockery passing between us. He smiled at me and threw a teasing wink. I straightened up, trying to project confidence despite my jittery nerves, and walked toward the ring. This would be my revenge for four years of beatings and taunts.

“Get up there, zoozi! Kick that chicken’s butt,” Aish joked beside me, patting my shoulders for encouragement.

We climbed onto the mat, elbowing each other, grumbling, and laughing. Zion seemed excited too, like he’d been waiting for this fight. We got into position. My heart was pounding, but from excitement, not fear. This was my last chance to beat Breno—maybe the fourth-best fighter in the class.

“Stretched enough for the beating?” Breno asked, getting into stance. He held his fists up in front of his face, knees slightly bent.

I smiled at him and settled into my own stance.

“I hope that smile doesn’t die when you’re flat on the floor.”

“You weren’t like this when you were begging me to go easy. Should I teach you some humility?”

“And should I teach you how to put your teeth back in place after my fist rearranges them?”

Breno and Zion laughed together, and I held back a smirk.

“Begin!” Zion called from below.

I saw the first attack coming before Breno even got close; his eyes flicked to my stomach and his hands set up for a punch, so I dodged left, using his focus on the strike to kick his ribs. The kick landed perfectly, and the impact knocked him slightly off balance. He looked at me with surprise, and I smiled, taunting him. He came at me again, this time trying to throw me off balance. Breno faked another punch, but I caught the muscle tensing in his thigh—his body shifting weight to one leg so he could strike with the other. I dodged the punch, pretending not to see the next move, and when he kicked at my leg, I shifted to the other, already targeting his supporting knee. My kick connected, and Breno dropped to his knees with a dull thud. The students expected me to mount him, but I didn’t. I was usually at a disadvantage on the ground—Zion was still working on that with me. Breno’s smile faltered, and I tossed my braid back, watching his every move.

“Don’t forget to smile!” I taunted, circling him.

He got up fast, panting, and reset his stance. His eyes gleamed with warning—a warning that now he’d fight with everything he had. He came at me faster this time, throwing rapid, explosive punches; his fists flew at me, but I dodged and blocked with perfect timing. He was good, but Zion was better and faster, so I was used to this speed. A punch grazed my ear, and that split second was enough to break my concentration. Breno grabbed me by the waist, driving his shoulder and head into my side. He was trying to take me down, and his strength forced me backward, throwing me off balance. When we slammed into the ring’s protective fence, the impact drove all the air from my lungs. He pinned me there, but I refused to go down, so I started hammering punches into his ribs, trying to make him stop. But in the process, his elbow swung toward my chin, and I couldn’t dodge. The impact rattled my brain and made my teeth clamp down, biting into my tongue, and the taste of blood flooded my mouth. But he didn’t let up and managed to wrap his legs around mine. With a twist, he threw us both to the floor, tangling us together to pin me down. I landed a punch on his nose during the fall and used the opening to drag my body upward.

Whenever someone took me to the ground, I usually counted the fight as lost, but this time I’d fight back. Zion had taught me only one move to escape a situation like this, and I needed to be on top. Through punches, grunts, and headbutts, I managed to get on top of Breno’s stomach, and he grabbed my arms to keep me from hitting his face. I grew more frantic, trying to wrench my fists free, but I’d barely get one loose before he snatched it again. I tried the move I’d used on Adele, but Breno dodged when I pulled him, pushing back and keeping our heads apart. I couldn’t break free, and Breno thrashed beneath me like a furious bull. My legs clamped onto his sides so hard I was shaking, and he roared in pain.

For a few seconds I held control, but bit by bit he was pushing me toward his chest, trying to free his hips and stomach from my weight. He suddenly released my fists, wrapped his arms around my waist, and buried his face in my stomach. From that angle, I couldn’t land a hit—I was completely off balance. I had to stretch my arms out and plant my hands on the floor or he’d topple me. Then, with most of his lower body free, he started rotating to get out from under me. I could feel his muscles straining as he turned—first his legs, then his hips. With that, I could no longer pin his chest to the floor.

Thinking fast to keep from being dragged, I grabbed one of his arms as he threw me to the side. But my legs still gripped him around his torso.

Seconds before he could escape completely, I pinned his wrist to my chest, then pulled my legs up, hooking them under his armpit. His eyes went wide—he realized where I was taking this fight. And I smiled, throwing my victory right in his face.

He thought I was at a disadvantage sitting on his chest, but in reality, I was slowly working my way around his arm. Breno tried to twist free, but all he could do was curse—because that was the moment he lost.