[Vol 1.] Chapter 1: Academy Evaluation

The moonlight didn’t shine tonight. Not that it ever made a difference to me. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The soft hum of city life buzzed beyond the window—powered teens racing across rooftops, lunar scooters zooming through neon-lit streets, and that ever-present pulse of energy only people born with a phase could truly feel. I wouldn’t know what that felt like. “Yuki!” my mom’s voice snapped from the kitchen, sharp and impatient. “Dinner. Don’t make us wait like you always do.” I didn’t move right away. I took my time, pulling on my jacket—the same long black one I wore every day. It didn’t matter how I looked. I wasn’t here to impress anyone. As I entered the dining room, the air shifted. Cold. Heavy. Familiar. Krystal didn’t even glance at me as she scrolled through her tablet, moonlight flickering softly around her fingertips. Mike sat upright, arms crossed, phase aura glowing faintly with New Moon suppression energy—just enough to flex. Selena, the youngest, had her Crescent aura flickering like soft candlelight as she hummed and played with floating droplets of water. Dad looked up. Disgust flickered in his eyes, the same look he always gave me. “You could at least try not to look so pathetic when you walk in,” he muttered, stabbing a piece of meat with his chopsticks. Mom didn’t hide her disdain either. “Put your hands on the table. Or are you too weak for that, too?” I said nothing and sat at the far end of the table, next to the window. No one passed me food. No one asked how my day was. It was always like this. Krystal smirked. “Still pretending you belong here?” Mike chuckled under his breath. “They must’ve dropped the wrong baby off at the Veil’s gates.” Selena said nothing—but even her silence stung more than words. Her eyes never met mine. I didn’t look up. I didn’t give them the satisfaction. “You’ve got your academy evaluation tomorrow.” Dad said, voice hard. “Show up, say nothing, and don’t embarrass the family—again.” I dug my fingernails into the underside of the table. “I never asked to be born into this family,” I muttered. “What was that?” Mom’s tone was venomous. “I said… I never asked to be here,” I repeated, standing up from my chair. Dad’s voice turned cold. “Then leave. But don’t come crawling back when the world reminds you what you really are—nothing.” I didn’t say another word. I didn’t need to. Their disappointment hung in the air like smoke. As I stepped out the front door and into the night, I looked up. The sky was cloudy, the moon hidden again. Still, I whispered to myself, “I’ll become stronger than all of you. With or without the moon.” Yuki walked through the glowing heart of Tsukihara City, her hands buried deep in her pockets, her long black jacket flowing with each step. Neon lights flashed across her face—holograms advertising Phase tech, academy broadcasts, and elite agency rankings—but she kept her eyes low, tuning it all out. People passed her in every direction. Some with a flicker of aura trailing behind them. Some levitating phones or speeding by on moon-phase gliders. Every one of them glowing. Blessed. She moved through them like a ghost. Until—A familiar figure leaned against a vending machine at the corner of the Lunar Plaza. Tall, relaxed, his dark gray hoodie pulled over messy black hair, and a crooked smile tugging at the edge of his face. Zack. Yuki’s cold expression shifted—barely, but noticeably. Her shoulders relaxed. A small smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it. For once, something felt real. She walked over, stopping just a few feet away. “Hey, Zack!” He looked up, eyes lighting up the second he saw her. “What’s up, Yuki? How you doing?” She gave a soft exhale—half-laugh, half-relief. “Better now.” Zack opened the can he’d just bought and took a sip, glancing her over. “You heading to the academy?” Yuki nodded. “Yeah. Entry Exams are tomorrow.” He raised a brow. “Feeling ready?” She shrugged. “Does it matter?” Zack tilted his head slightly. “You know it does. Doesn’t matter if you're a Null or not—your punch still hurts like hell.” Yuki couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah, well... don’t spread that around.” He laughed. “No promises.” For the first time in days, the weight on her chest felt a little lighter. Zack glanced up at the sky, the moon barely visible through the buildings. “You’re gonna make them eat their words, you know.” Yuki’s smile faded, but the fire in her eyes didn’t. “I don’t care if they choke on 'em. I just want to prove I belong.” Zack walked beside her now, sipping his drink while matching her pace like it was second nature. The city noise faded slightly as they took a quieter route through the alley near the old arcade—one of the few places that hadn’t been plastered with glowing ads or academy recruitment posters. “You remember the first time we met?” Zack asked, glancing at her with a smirk. Yuki raised a brow. “You mean when you cried after I punched that older kid?” Zack chuckled. “Nah, not that part. The moment right before it.” Yuki paused, and the memory hit her like a wave. Eight Years Ago. The back courtyard of the Tsukihara district playground was empty that day—except for a single boy surrounded by two older kids. They had cornered him near the fence, kicking dirt, tossing his schoolbag between each other. "Where's your phase, huh?" one taunted, his phase aura lightly glowing with a crescent shimmer. "Come on, Zack, do something! Use your 'hidden powers' or whatever your mom keeps lying about!" Zack didn’t cry. Not until the taller one shoved him into the fence and laughed. That’s when she appeared. Small, scrawny, with messy black hair and a scowl far too sharp for a girl her age, Yuki stepped in without hesitation. No words. No warnings. She socked the first kid in the stomach. Hard. The second tried to swing at her. She ducked, then headbutted him in the chin. They ran. And Zack… well, he stared, wide-eyed, lips trembling. “You okay?” the girl asked, holding out his bag. He nodded. “What’s your name?” “Z-Zack,” he muttered, wiping his nose. “You’re… strong.” She smirked. “Not strong. Just don’t like jerks.” That was all it took. From that day on, Zack followed her like a shadow, and Yuki—for the first time—had someone who looked at her without judgment. Present Day. Back in the alley, Zack bumped her shoulder gently. “You looked like a devil that day. Black eyes, scowl, fists already red.” Yuki cracked a small smile. “You looked like a mop. Crying, snot everywhere.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah. Still—you were the first person who didn’t treat me like trash.” Yuki’s expression softened. “Same.” They walked a few more steps in silence before Zack spoke again. “So what if you didn’t awaken? You’ve been punching fate in the face since you were nine.” She glanced up at the cloudy night sky. “Then I guess I’ve still got a few punches left.” Zack smiled beside her, leaning back against the railing as they looked out over the quiet cityscape. The moon hung low now, veiled behind fading clouds—its light dim, distant. The moment lingered, peaceful in its own way, but the weight of tomorrow pressed heavy against it. “Entry Exams are in a few hours,” Yuki muttered, eyes fixed on the skyline. “Lunaria Hero School... I still don’t feel ready.” Zack nudged her lightly with his elbow. “You’ve never felt ready. But you always show up. That’s what counts.” She let out a short breath. “Showing up isn’t what people remember.” “No. But punching expectations in the face is.” That got a smirk out of her. The two of them sat there for a while longer, saying nothing more. Just the quiet hum of the city, the moon slowly disappearing behind distant towers, and the air growing colder as night thinned toward dawn. Eventually, Yuki stood. “I should head out. I want to walk there... clear my head.” Zack nodded, his expression more serious now. “Go show them what a ‘Null’ can do.” — A Few Hours Later — Lunaria Hero School. The sky had shifted from deep violet to pale blue as the first rays of morning light crept over Tsukihara City. Towering like a lunar fortress over the surrounding districts, Lunaria Hero School stood at the center of it all—a sprawling structure of glass, stone, and glowing moonsteel spires, each etched with the symbols of the eight moon phases. Dozens of students filed through the gates, some riding phase-gliders, others simply walking, their auras flickering with moonlight. The energy in the air was electric—nervous tension mixed with quiet confidence. Yuki kept to herself, moving along the crowd without speaking. She didn’t glow. She didn’t hover. She didn’t draw a single eye. But her focus was razor sharp. Lunaria wasn’t just a school—it was the school. The place where Lunar Elites were forged. The highest-ranking heroes, agency captains, moonphase strategists—they had all passed through these halls. For someone like her, just being here meant walking into a storm. A large, floating screen hovered over the courtyard, displaying student rosters and test placements. Yuki found her name near the bottom: Yuki — Classification: Null — Zone 5-B. She stared at it for a moment, jaw tight. Everyone else had their phase type listed next to their names. Waxing Crescent. Waning Gibbous. Full Moon. New Moon. She had nothing. Null. She felt the familiar sting creep up her spine… but she smothered it. She walked. Students stared. Whispers rose. "She’s a Null?" "Why even try?" "Maybe they’re letting one in for pity points this year." Yuki ignored it all. Inside the main gates, uniformed faculty members directed students toward various sections of the academy campus. The entry exams would be held in designated lunar arenas—each tailored to test combat, control, intelligence, and creativity based on your phase. Yuki didn’t have one. She was directed to the edge of the arena sector—Zone 5-B, the isolated section often reserved for last-minute additions, special cases... or students no one expected anything from. The assistant barely looked at her. “You’ll be in the individual evaluation bracket. Wait until called.” She nodded, silent, and stepped into the holding area. It was quieter here. A few others waited—some cocky, some nervous. But no one paid her any mind. She found a bench and sat alone. The arena floor beyond the wall hummed with energy. She could hear bursts of power echoing through the corridors, cheers from upperclassmen watching from towers, and the booming voice of the head examiner calling names. Her fingers tapped against her knee. Her heart beat steady. No phase. No glow. But she was here. “I’ve still got a few punches left,” she whispered. And she planned to use every single one. A loud chime echoed through the holding hall, followed by a soft, mechanical voice over the intercom: "Zone 5-B candidates, please proceed to Exam Hall C for your written evaluation. You have ten minutes to be seated." The others around Yuki began moving at once. A few cracked their knuckles dramatically, some whispered notes to each other, and one girl summoned a glowing orb of lunar-enhanced memory aid, clearly showing off. Yuki stood without a word, slipping her hands into her jacket pockets as she followed the group down the polished corridor. The floor glowed faintly beneath their feet—moonsteel embedded in the tiles pulsing in rhythm with the academy’s systems. Lunaria Hero School didn’t play around. When they reached Exam Hall C, the atmosphere changed. The room was massive, with dozens of spaced-out desks, each built with privacy walls and a small display screen glowing with lunar script. Surveillance drones floated overhead, scanning students as they entered. Phase-suppressors lined the ceiling—meant to prevent cheating via moon powers. “Null advantage,” Yuki muttered to herself. She didn’t have powers to suppress. A tall woman in a white and silver uniform stood at the front, arms crossed, a cold look in her eyes. Her phase aura shimmered faintly—Waning Gibbous, if Yuki had to guess. Analytical types. Precise. “This test is designed to evaluate your tactical judgment, lunar theory, agency protocol comprehension, and response planning. You will have ninety minutes. You may not speak. Begin when instructed.” Yuki made her way to her assigned seat — back row, far right. Typical. As she sat, the screen lit up. Candidate: Yuki [Null] Phase Registration: None Moon Affinity Score: Unavailable. The glowing words burned for a second before fading into the first question. Question 1: A Waxing Crescent teammate begins to overextend during a joint operation. You're in charge of support. Outline the safest non-combative method to re-stabilize your squad’s formation. Yuki’s fingers hovered over the screen. She closed her eyes for a moment. This was it. She started typing. Her fingers moved fast—steady. Years of watching her siblings train. Years of secretly reading agency strategy manuals late at night. Years of listening to Krystal boast about formations and missions. She hadn’t just been ignored all this time. She’d been studying. Halfway through the test, sweat beaded down the faces of even the most confident students. The questions got harder—layered with moral dilemmas, situational breakdowns, and rapid-response instructions. Yuki stayed calm. She didn’t have phase abilities to fall back on. She didn’t have flashy energy or elite lineage to carry her. All she had was her brain. And her grit. And both were on fire. “Five minutes remaining,” the intercom said. Yuki reviewed her answers one last time, correcting two minor phrasing errors and adjusting her response for a split-squad New Moon infiltration scenario. When the final chime rang, she tapped SUBMIT without hesitation. The screen dimmed. Her heart didn’t race. Her hands didn’t shake. She stood up as the proctor waved them toward the exit. She didn’t smile—but something in her eyes flickered with quiet fire. “One test down,” she thought. “Now let’s see what happens when the real evaluations begin.” “One test down,” she thought, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. “Now let’s see what happens when the real evaluations begin.” The heavy doors to the testing hall swung open, and a rush of fresh air filled the space. Outside, the sprawling training ground stretched beneath the blazing sun, a vast arena of challenges waiting to be conquered. Towering wooden walls, ropes swaying in the breeze, heavy bags dangling ominously, and obstacle courses twisting like labyrinths all stood as silent witnesses to the trials ahead. Yuki’s heart thumped—not with fear, but a fierce kind of anticipation. This was her moment. A sharp whistle cut through the air, and the candidates snapped to attention as a tall, grizzled instructor stepped forward. His gaze swept over the group like a hawk. “Physical evaluation will test your endurance, strength, agility, and combat skills,” he announced. “Failure is not an option. Push your limits, or you’ll never survive Lunaria Hero School.” The words sent a ripple of murmurs through the crowd. Some faces paled, others clenched their jaws in determination. The first challenge was a towering wall, easily twice Yuki’s height. Many hesitated, their hands trembling as they eyed the daunting climb. Without a second thought, Yuki sprinted forward. Her fingers curled tightly around the coarse wooden planks, muscles flexing with practiced precision. Her breath was steady as she scaled the wall—every step purposeful, every grip secure. At the top, she paused only a moment, then dropped down with a controlled roll, landing lightly on the other side. The ground seemed to tremble beneath her feet from the force of her landing. The crowd gasped. Many hadn’t expected someone to make it so fast. Next was the weighted sprint. She hoisted a heavy sandbag over her shoulders—rough, gritty against her skin, the weight pressing down like a challenge itself. Her legs fired up like pistons, and she launched forward. Each step pounded the earth with relentless power. The scorching sun beat down, but Yuki barely noticed, her focus laser-sharp. Behind her, others struggled, panting and stumbling as they tried to keep pace. The final stretch of the sprint led to a muddy pit filled with waist-deep water. Most faltered here, but Yuki plunged through without hesitation, water splashing around her as she powered onward. By the time she reached the dry ground beyond, her lungs burned—but her spirit roared louder. The last test was a sparring bout. Her opponent was a burly youth with quick, sly eyes and a reputation for agility. He moved like a shadow, weaving and darting with uncanny speed. Yuki steadied herself as the bell rang. The fight erupted with a burst of energy. Her opponent launched a rapid flurry of punches and kicks, aiming to overwhelm her. Yuki blocked, parried, and countered with brute force. Her strong arms absorbed blows and returned them with devastating impact. Sweat dripped into her eyes, but she refused to blink. Her mind raced, calculating openings and timing, turning the spar into a fierce dance of strength versus speed. A powerful kick caught her side, knocking the breath out of her momentarily, but Yuki gritted her teeth and pressed on. Then, spotting a brief opening, she unleashed a crushing uppercut that sent her opponent staggering backward. The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps. The instructor nodded with approval, his stern expression softening just a little. When the final bell rang, Yuki stood tall, chest heaving, a victorious gleam in her eyes. “This… is only the beginning,” she thought, adrenaline still coursing through her veins. “And I’m ready for whatever comes next.” The crowd buzzed with whispers and murmurs as Yuki stepped away from the sparring ring, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Some candidates looked awestruck, others begrudgingly impressed. A tall, broad-shouldered youth with a sharp scar across his cheek narrowed his eyes and muttered under his breath, “Did you see that? She cleared the wall faster than anyone I’ve ever seen…” A girl with braided hair and fierce eyes glanced over, biting her lip. “She’s strong… way stronger than most of us. If she keeps this up, she might actually be top of the class.” From the sidelines, a slender boy adjusted his glasses and nodded. “Physical strength is one thing, but she’s got endurance and technique too. She’s definitely a serious contender.” Yuki caught some of the glances—equal parts admiration and challenge. She knew this evaluation wasn’t just about physical skill; it was a message. She was on everyone’s radar now. As the crowd dispersed, a familiar voice called out. “Yuki!” Zack’s grin spread wide as he jogged over, wiping sweat from his brow. His dark hair was tousled, and his eyes gleamed with excitement. “Hey, Zack,” Yuki replied with a tired but genuine smile. “You did well out there.” Zack chuckled. “You? You were on fire! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone move like that during the sprint.” Yuki shrugged modestly. “I’ve had some practice. But I’m glad it’s over.” The two walked side by side toward the evaluation center—a sleek building where the exam results would be posted. The tension between excitement and nerves was thick. Inside, rows of candidates clustered around large boards displaying scores for each test section. The physical evaluation results were posted first. Yuki’s eyes scanned the board rapidly until they landed on her name. Yuki Takahashi Physical Evaluation: 97/100 — Top 5%. A surge of pride warmed her chest. She was one of the strongest, just as she had hoped. Zack nudged her shoulder. “Look at you—almost perfect.” She laughed softly. “Not bad, huh? How about you?” Zack leaned in, reading his own score: Zack Arai Physical Evaluation: 89/100 — Top 15%. “Not as good as you,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “But I’m not complaining.” They exchanged a look of mutual respect. This was just the beginning, but the rivalry was already forming—a friendly fire to push each other further. Yuki’s thoughts drifted. “The real challenge is coming next, but at least we’ve made it this far.” Zack nodded. “Yeah. Let’s keep going together.” With that, the pair turned their attention to the next set of results—the written test scores—ready to face whatever came next. The murmur of the crowd shifted as the next set of results was posted—the written test scores. A hush fell over the candidates as everyone’s eyes darted toward the large board once again. Yuki stepped closer, her heartbeat quickening. The written exam had been tougher than she expected. Complex theory, magic principles, strategy questions—all designed to test the sharpness of her mind, not just her strength. Her eyes scanned the list until they found her name: Yuki Takahashi Written Test: 85/100 — Top 20%. She blinked, a mix of relief and surprise washing over her. It wasn’t a perfect score, but it was solid—and good enough to keep her in the running. Zack peered over her shoulder, then found his own score: Zack Arai Written Test: 92/100 — Top 10%. He raised an eyebrow, a smug smile tugging at his lips. “Looks like I got you on this one.” Yuki rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, yeah. You win this round.” Zack laughed. “Hey, brains and brawn—perfect team, right?” She nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll need both to make it through Lunaria.” As the crowd began to disperse, Yuki’s gaze caught the stern eyes of one of the lead instructors watching from a distance. The look wasn’t just one of approval, but challenge. “This is just the beginning,” Yuki reminded herself. “I have to get stronger—physically and mentally.” Turning back to Zack, she said, “Let’s train harder, push further. Together.” He nodded firmly. “Agreed. We’ve got a long road ahead.” With renewed determination, the two friends moved away from the board “Now let’s see what happens when the real evaluations begin.” The heavy doors to the testing hall swung open, and a rush of fresh air filled the space. Outside, the sprawling training ground stretched beneath the blazing sun, a vast arena of challenges waiting to be conquered. Towering wooden walls, ropes swaying in the breeze, heavy bags dangling ominously, and obstacle courses twisting like labyrinths all stood as silent witnesses to the trials ahead. Yuki’s heart thumped—not with fear, but a fierce kind of anticipation. This was her moment. A sharp whistle cut through the air, and the candidates snapped to attention as a tall, grizzled instructor stepped forward. His gaze swept over the group like a hawk. “Physical evaluation will test your endurance, strength, agility, and combat skills,” he announced. “Failure is not an option. Push your limits, or you’ll never survive Lunaria Hero School.” The words sent a ripple of murmurs through the crowd. Some faces paled, others clenched their jaws in determination. The first challenge was a towering wall, easily twice Yuki’s height. Many hesitated, their hands trembling as they eyed the daunting climb. Without a second thought, Yuki sprinted forward. Her fingers curled tightly around the coarse wooden planks, muscles flexing with practiced precision. Her breath was steady as she scaled the wall—every step purposeful, every grip secure. At the top, she paused only a moment, then dropped down with a controlled roll, landing lightly on the other side. The ground seemed to tremble beneath her feet from the force of her landing. The crowd gasped. Many hadn’t expected someone to make it so fast. Next was the weighted sprint. She hoisted a heavy sandbag over her shoulders—rough, gritty against her skin, the weight pressing down like a challenge itself. Her legs fired up like pistons, and she launched forward. Each step pounded the earth with relentless power. The scorching sun beat down, but Yuki barely noticed, her focus laser-sharp. Behind her, others struggled, panting and stumbling as they tried to keep pace. The final stretch of the sprint led to a muddy pit filled with waist-deep water. Most faltered here, but Yuki plunged through without hesitation, water splashing around her as she powered onward. By the time she reached the dry ground beyond, her lungs burned—but her spirit roared louder. The last test was a sparring bout. Her opponent was a burly youth with quick, sly eyes and a reputation for agility. He moved like a shadow, weaving and darting with uncanny speed. Yuki steadied herself as the bell rang. The fight erupted with a burst of energy. Her opponent launched a rapid flurry of punches and kicks, aiming to overwhelm her. Yuki blocked, parried, and countered with brute force. Her strong arms absorbed blows and returned them with devastating impact. Sweat dripped into her eyes, but she refused to blink. Her mind raced, calculating openings and timing, turning the spar into a fierce dance of strength versus speed. A powerful kick caught her side, knocking the breath out of her momentarily, but Yuki gritted her teeth and pressed on. Then, spotting a brief opening, she unleashed a crushing uppercut that sent her opponent staggering backward. The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps. The instructor nodded with approval, his stern expression softening just a little. When the final bell rang, Yuki stood tall, chest heaving, a victorious gleam in her eyes. “This… is only the beginning,” she thought, adrenaline still coursing through her veins. “And I’m ready for whatever comes next.” The crowd buzzed with whispers and murmurs as Yuki stepped away from the sparring ring, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Some candidates looked awestruck, others begrudgingly impressed. A tall, broad-shouldered youth with a sharp scar across his cheek narrowed his eyes and muttered under his breath, “Did you see that? She cleared the wall faster than anyone I’ve ever seen…” A girl with braided hair and fierce eyes glanced over, biting her lip. “She’s strong… way stronger than most of us. If she keeps this up, she might actually be top of the class.” From the sidelines, a slender boy adjusted his glasses and nodded. “Physical strength is one thing, but she’s got endurance and technique too. She’s definitely a serious contender.” Yuki caught some of the glances—equal parts admiration and challenge. She knew this evaluation wasn’t just about physical skill; it was a message. She was on everyone’s radar now. As the crowd dispersed, a familiar voice called out. “Yuki!” Zack’s grin spread wide as he jogged over, wiping sweat from his brow. His dark hair was tousled, and his eyes gleamed with excitement. “Hey, Zack,” Yuki replied with a tired but genuine smile. “You did well out there.” Zack chuckled. “You? You were on fire! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone move like that during the sprint.” Yuki shrugged modestly. “I’ve had some practice. But I’m glad it’s over.” The two walked side by side toward the evaluation center—a sleek building where the exam results would be posted. The tension between excitement and nerves was thick. Inside, rows of candidates clustered around large boards displaying scores for each test section. The physical evaluation results were posted first. Yuki’s eyes scanned the board rapidly until they landed on her name. Yuki Takahashi Physical Evaluation: 97/100 — Top 5%. A surge of pride warmed her chest. She was one of the strongest, just as she had hoped. Zack nudged her shoulder. “Look at you—almost perfect.” She laughed softly. “Not bad, huh? How about you?” Zack leaned in, reading his own score: Zack Arai Physical Evaluation: 89/100 — Top 15%. “Not as good as you,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “But I’m not complaining.” They exchanged a look of mutual respect. This was just the beginning, but the rivalry was already forming—a friendly fire to push each other further. Yuki’s thoughts drifted. “The real challenge is coming next, but at least we’ve made it this far.” Zack nodded. “Yeah. Let’s keep going together.” With that, the pair turned their attention to the next set of results—the written test scores—ready to face whatever came next. The murmur of the crowd shifted as the next set of results was posted—the written test scores. A hush fell over the candidates as everyone’s eyes darted toward the large board once again. Yuki stepped closer, her heartbeat quickening. The written exam had been tougher than she expected. Complex theory, magic principles, strategy questions—all designed to test the sharpness of her mind, not just her strength. Her eyes scanned the list until they found her name: Yuki Takahashi Written Test: 85/100 — Top 20%. She blinked, a mix of relief and surprise washing over her. It wasn’t a perfect score, but it was solid—and good enough to keep her in the running. Zack peered over her shoulder, then found his own score: Zack Arai Written Test: 92/100 — Top 10%. He raised an eyebrow, a smug smile tugging at his lips. “Looks like I got you on this one.” Yuki rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, yeah. You win this round.” Zack laughed. “Hey, brains and brawn—perfect team, right?” She nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll need both to make it through Lunaria.” As the crowd began to disperse, Yuki’s gaze caught the stern eyes of one of the lead instructors watching from a distance. The look wasn’t just one of approval, but challenge. “This is just the beginning,” Yuki reminded herself. “I have to get stronger—physically and mentally.” Turning back to Zack, she said, “Let’s train harder, push further. Together.” He nodded firmly. “Agreed. We’ve got a long road ahead.” With renewed determination, the two friends moved away from the board. As the crowd began to thin, Yuki and Zack exchanged a quick nod. “We’ll catch up tomorrow for training,” Zack said, already turning toward the exit. “Yeah. See you then,” Yuki replied, watching him leave. The sun was beginning its descent as Yuki made her way home. The streets were quieter now, the day's tension slowly melting away. Her mind replayed the events of the day—the wall climbs, the sprint, the sparring, and the scores. Yuki pushed open the door and stepped inside. Her father, Aiden, glanced up from his chair, his cold eyes narrowing slightly. “Look who decided to come home — the Null of the family.” Yuki rolled her eyes, already bracing herself. Her mother, Savanna, crossed her arms and spoke sharply, “So, Null, what are your scores?” Yuki took a deep breath and answered steadily, her voice echoing through the living room. “Physical Evaluation… 97 out of 100. Top five percent. And the Written Test… 85 out of 100. Top twenty percent.” Savanna’s lips curled into a thin, dismissive smile. “Impressive… for a Null. Still pathetic. Even your little sister Selena, the youngest in our family, can do better than you.” The words cut deep, and something inside Yuki snapped. Her eyes flashed with anger. “Okay, you know what? I don’t care what you think! Maybe I get my powers later than everyone else. So just shut the fuck up and deal with it!” The room fell silent, tension thick enough to choke on. Her father’s face tightened, but he said nothing. Her mother’s eyes glittered with something unreadable — disappointment, frustration, or maybe concern. Yuki’s chest heaved as she glared at them both. This was the fire she needed. “If I’m the Null,” she said, voice low but fierce, “then watch me prove you all wrong. I’m not done yet. Not by a long shot.” Her words hung in the air like a challenge. Her family’s silence was her answer — cold, indifferent, but not dismissive enough to crush her spirit. Without another word, Yuki turned and stormed upstairs, the slam of her bedroom door echoing behind her. Alone in her room, Yuki sank onto the edge of her bed, fists clenched tightly. The echoes of her family’s words still burned in her mind, but beneath the sting was a flicker of something stronger—resolve. She stared out the window, where the last rays of sunlight slipped behind distant mountains, painting the sky with streaks of fiery orange and deep violet. They think I’m weak. They think I’m a Null. But I’ll show them what it means to fight. A slow, determined smile crept onto Yuki’s lips. Her journey was only just beginning. Tomorrow, she would train harder. Study longer. Push beyond every limit they set for her. Because this time, she wouldn’t just prove them wrong—she’d become unstoppable. The room grew dark, but inside Yuki, a fierce flame blazed brighter than ever. This isn’t the end. It’s just the beginning.