GROUP 7: Eclipse Division: The Origin, page 14
Where’d he get his lines? Sky High Returns?
“Sorry, man!” I yell back, waving my hands. “You’re so strong! I just wanted to give you space so you could do your signature move! You know… the one that’s nearly killed hundreds!”
Alright, Kai. Let’s see if sucking up actually works — my way.
“What did you just say?” Kael’s tone drops an octave.
The announcer practically screams into the mic.
“Ohohohooo!!! It looks like our newcomer ‘Awakened’ has PISSED off legendary prodigy hero ‘Heat,’ everyone!!!”
The crowd turns into a tidal wave of boos.
I could honestly give a f—
“You hear that?” Kael shouts, spreading his arms like a god on stage. “This is MY crowd. MY home turf. I could make a million mistakes and they’d STILL love me for what I can do! You come here thinking you’re hot shit? Well guess what—”
I laugh. Hard.
“You’re hot shit.”
He actually pauses. “What?”
“Literally,” I grin. “You’re made of heat. And you’re a sack of shit. You treat people like they’re expendable and your apologies have no depth. I don’t care if you can shoot fireballs out of your hands — you’ll always be a literal sack of hot shit to me.”
“That’s it.”
The crowd erupts.
“DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!”
The announcer’s going feral.
“WOAHOOOOOOH ladies and gentlemen! It looks like the crowd knows what they want! Is he gonna do it!? IS HE GONNA DO IT FOR US!???”
Kael grins wide — the kind of grin that promises nothing good.
“YOU GUYS WANT IT!?”
Every camera in the arena whips toward him. Every drone zooms in. Except one. A tiny, dusty security cam on the far railing about a hundred meters away — old model, still mechanical. I doubt it even works.
The roar builds, and Kael keeps stoking it, his voice bouncing off the stadium walls.
“I SAID — DO. YOU. GUYS. WANT IT!???”
The crowd becomes one voice, shaking the air itself.
That’s my window.
The camera turns toward Kael, just enough for me to slip out of frame.
“THAT’S IT! YOU ASKED FOR IT!”
Kael’s eyes ignite.
I press my Ecliptite arm to my mouth, cover it like I’m coughing, and feel the faint click as the auto-pop mechanism fires.
A capsule slides onto my tongue — the Aquyra pill.
Swallow.
My veins flood with chill. My body hums with liquid control.
Kael’s skin starts to glow — rivers of molten light running under his flesh.
I pop a white one.
The world erupts.
Kael detonates into flame so massive it scorches the edges of the dome — three hundred thousand people gasp at once, the shockwave brushing their faces like the hand of a god. Some even reach toward it, like moths begging to burn. The air smells like ozone and awe.
But I’m not afraid.
The Aquyra pill surges through me, every cell turning into liquid purpose. I feel the humidity, every droplet trembling, waiting.
I move my hand. The air moves with me.
Water molecules stretch out, forming invisible strings that loop around Kael’s blaze. His fire meets resistance — and I push harder.
The air condenses.
The flames twist into steam as I wrap him in a massive bubble of water, glittering under the lights like a floating ocean.
He thrashes, his pulse glowing red through the sphere — and then I freeze it.
The entire stadium gasps.
Kael is trapped, mid-motion, inside a suspended orb of ice.
I raise my arm, snap my fingers — and the sphere splits in two.
A crack of light rips across the field.
The crowd falls silent.
No music. No announcer. No breath.
Just silence.
The inferno dies.
Kael Soryn — “Heat,” prodigy of fire, descendant of gods — falls to his knees, split clean down the middle.
Two perfect halves.
White steam rises between them like a veil.
Someone screams. Cameras zoom.
And all I can think is:
Holy hot shit. Kael is split in two.
51. Divinal Resilience
There’s a reason they keep the world’s strongest healer heroes stationed at every Chronos Academy entrance exam — and pay them more than most government ministers.
It’s for moments like this.
Moments when the world goes still.
When the crowd forgets to breathe.
When the roar of three hundred thousand turns into a single, collective heartbeat.
And the Academy itself — this floating monument of pride and power — flips upside down.
I can’t say I’m surprised.
I mean, yeah — I might’ve just split one of the world’s top young heroes in half. But hey, who hasn’t had one of those days?
Punk.
Honestly, the real shocker is that it worked.
Because if you’ve ever seen the footage of Death Hollows — that two-month nightmare Kai and I called “Tuesday” — you’d understand why my body was ready for this. Who else would willingly train in a place that shifts from desert to blizzard to thunderstorm to monster apocalypse every few hours? Who hurls themselves into a crater filled with Strays just to see how fast their bones can knit back together?
Only the crazies, I suppose.
And boy, am I glad to be one today.
Kael? Don’t worry about him. He’s alive.
See, Aetherborn have this little thing called Divinal Resilience — the super convenient “I-can-still-live-even-after-you-literally-ripped-me-in-half” clause of divinity. Apparently, as long as their body parts are brought back together within five minutes, they’ll regenerate like nothing happened. Some of the stronger ones can even do it on their own, growing new limbs, torsos, or even copies of themselves.
Yeah. The lore gets insane. But the bottom line?
Kael’s fine.
The healers swarmed the stage the second he hit the floor — a whole squadron of Aquyra and Auralis types in silver coats glowing with runes. You could practically smell the ozone and divine energy mixing as they worked, sealing Kael’s halves back together in perfect symmetry. Within seconds, the light around them turned so bright you could see it from orbit.
The crowd watched, silent, reverent. The same people who were booing me a minute ago suddenly looked like they were witnessing resurrection — because, well, they were.
Five minutes later, Kael Soryn — perfectly whole again — sat up, blinking, his body steaming faintly under the floodlights.
And me? I was still standing in the center of the ring, soaked, burned, shaking, and trying not to pass out while pretending this was all part of the plan.
I looked up at the giant holo-screens replaying the fight — my punchline, his flame, the split — over and over again. Slow motion, multiple angles. The crowd finally started making noise again, but it wasn’t the same. They weren’t chanting “Heat” anymore.
They were whispering my name.
Akira Akuma.
I could practically hear Kai’s voice in my head right now, yelling at me through every comm frequency known to man:
“BRO YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WAIT TILL TOMORROW!!! WE STILL HAD TO INJECT MORE AETHERBLOOD, YOU ABSOLUTE MANIAC!!!”
I grin despite myself.
He’d be proud. Terrified, but proud.
The officials ushered me off the stage, their faces unreadable behind glowing visors. I could see healers still patching Kael up in the distance, light pouring over him like molten glass being remolded.
He’s fine.
His body, anyway.
As for his ego and his fans?
They were just… put into check.
(✿◡‿◡)
…Ew. What the hell?
Where did that emoticon come from?
Goddammit, Kai. Are you rubbing off on me?
I sigh, wipe the sweat from my brow, and look toward the exit tunnels where the locker rooms allow some “rest” before next test awaits.
One fight down. A whole Academy to go.
Let’s do this.
52. frankenstein has a panic attack
My jaw was on the floor.
Aura’s jaw was on the floor.
That’s it. End of story.
No but seriously—
I blinked. She blinked. The holo-screens were replaying Akira’s split-the-prodigy-in-half move from seventeen different angles and I swear I could feel my soul trying to eject from my body.
“Oh. My. GODS.” I wheezed, gripping my head. “I made a monster. I literally made a monster. This is it. I’m Doctor Frankenstein. I’m Doctor freaking Frankenstein!”
Aura barked once — short, stern, judgmental.
“Don’t look at me like that!” I pointed at her, shaking. “You saw it too! He froze Kenya’s number-one hero and turned him into an art project! That’s not normal! That’s supervillain behavior!”
Aura trotted over, bit my pant leg, and dragged me down into the grass.
“Hey—hey—stop! Fabric! This is imported!”
She ignored me completely and plopped herself in my lap like an emotional support dragon disguised as an Australian shepherd. Her two tails wagged just enough to hit me in the face every few seconds, as if to punctuate how ridiculous I was being.
“Okay… okay,” I muttered, rubbing her head, trying to match her breathing. “It’s all gonna be fine. He’s not a monster. He’s my best friend. My brilliant, terrifying, half-metal, possibly-radioactive best friend.”
Aura grunted.
I exhaled again.
“It’s all gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be—”
The announcer’s voice thundered across the gardens.
“Ahahahaha… Aaalright everyone! Looks like a SUPER unexpected turn of events for today’s match! Buuut be right back after this 10-minute break! Logistics has to find a more fitting contender for this new Awakened’s second Entrance Exam, since he seems to be a little… surprising!”
I froze mid-breath.
“Oh gods…” I whispered. “They’re gonna send him a stronger one.”
Aura whined softly.
“Yeah,” I said, eyes wide, staring toward the amphitheater glowing in the distance like a Divine crime scene.
“Oh gods indeed.”
53. HEATED CONVERSATIONS
The locker room was quiet — too quiet for a place that had just hosted a battle heard around the world.
Steam hissed from the vents. My reflection stared back at me from the metal locker door — wet hair, singed sleeves, veins still faintly glowing white and cyan from the pills. I exhaled, the sound echoing like static in my head.
Finally. A moment to breathe.
Then the door slammed open.
Kael Soryn stormed in, the heat of his aura rolling in like a second sun. Steam was still rising from his back — the leftover condensation from the giant ice cream sculpture I’d turned him into.
“Hey there, popsicle,” I said, trying to sound casual.
Wrong move.
He shoves me into a locker so hard the metal dents. “WHAT WAS THAT, HUH? You think you’re funny!? You think you’re hot—”
He stops himself.
I raise an eyebrow. “Were you really gonna say it again? Damn, dude, you need a new writer.”
For a second, I think he’s gonna melt me. Then — to my surprise — he laughs. Just once, like it slipped out by accident.
He lets go, steps back, and runs a hand through his still-damp hair.
“You know,” he says, smirking faintly, “it’s been a while since I had a good fight like that.”
I grin. “You call that a fight? Pretty sure I wrecked you, man.”
He chuckles. “Eh, I was using like… 5% of my power.”
“Riiight,” I say, rolling my eyes.
We both laugh — awkward, genuine, almost human. I still don’t like him, but credit where it’s due: that’s some fast character development.
Kael turns toward the mirror, eyes glowing faintly red, hands on the sink. “Anyways… next time this happens — if it does — I won’t go easy on you. And honestly…” He glances back at me, softer now. “Thanks. You’ve given me a new reason to train.”
“Is saving people not enough of a reason?”
He shakes his head slowly. “Look, brother. When you get in here — if you get in here — you’ll see. Becoming a hero changes you. They change you. You won’t be as in control as you think.”
I tilt my head. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”
He doesn’t answer. Just keeps staring at the steam curling from his hands, slightly radiating.
“Anyway,” he says finally, hands going back to normal — or whatever you’d call “normal” for an Aether. Switching back to that cocky tone, “they’ve seen your power now — whatever your divinity is. So don’t expect an ‘easy’ one like me next exam. Your placement depends on your rankings through all three exams — flare, style, strength, your cool, your—”
He pauses. “Pizazz.”
“Pizazz?” I mock.
“Pizazz,” he repeats. Dead serious.
“They take it all into account — your performance, your danger level, your control, your threat rating, your—marketability. Then they’ll decide what kind of hero you’ll be… or what kind of problem you’ll be.”
I blink. “That’s… mildly concerning.”
Kael laughs again and pats my shoulder. “Alright, bro. I like you. You’re a smart one. Just don’t get too smart.”
He’s halfway out the door when he turns back. “There’s a reason this school’s Aetherborn-only and not Mindborn. Be smart.”
He air-fist-bumps me followed by a little baby explosion in his hand and walks out — leaving me standing there, trying to figure out what the hell that meant.
Well… that was interesting.
The lights flicker.
Cassian appears in the doorway, his shadow stretching across the floor. His lips don’t move — but his voice slides right into my skull.
“Hey. Round two. Get out here.”
I stare at him, feeling my pulse start to race again.
Round two.
Already?
Oh gods. Here we go again.
54. Popcorn and Panic
“It’s all gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay!”
I was pacing in circles like a malfunctioning robot, Aura trotting beside me with her ears pinned back, watching me unravel in real time.
The stadium’s announcer boomed through every speaker, his voice echoing across the floating spires of the academy.
“AAALRIGHT EVERYONE! Make sure to get your limited-time Chronos Popcorn! Infused with Aetherial Salt and Divinal Curry Powder, guaranteed to brighten your mood by at least 100 times! Only $100 plus tax!”
I threw my hands in the air. “A hundred bucks for popcorn!? What is this, Disneyland for gods!?”
Aura barked like she agreed.
“AAAND COMING UP! OUR NEWCOMER AWAKENED—uhh, what’s his name again? Aki-what? Akira? What kind of name is that? Chinese?”
“Oh, come on…” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face.
“AAAKIIIRAAA AKUMAAA!!!”
The entire amphitheater roared to life again, drones circling the sky like glowing insects, scanning the field.
“Against… oh—oh gods no, this is—are, are you sure? Against… okay then…VALE’S VERY OWN… NNNNYYYRAAAA VAAALE!!!”
I freeze mid-step.
The popcorn vendor near me dropped an entire glowing bucket. The crowd gasped, then screamed even louder than before.
My heart sank straight into my stomach. Aura whined, sensing my panic, her fur starting to shimmer faintly with light and darkness.
“Did he just say—?”
The holo-screen zoomed in on the arena entrance. The girl from earlier — dark eyeliner, cybernetic earpieces, hair flowing like a midnight waterfall — walked in, radiating power like it was oxygen.
Nyra Vale.
I gasped. “Oh no. no no no no no—how did I not notice?”
Aura tilted her head.
“That’s Nyra Vale,” I said, voice cracking. “Vale’s daughter. As in THE Vale. Founder of New Los Angeles, director of Chronos Academy, savior and destroyer of nearly half the damn planet—that Vale!”
Aura blinked.
“She’s the most powerful student in the Academy,” I whispered, eyes glued to the screen as the stadium lights dimmed around her entrance. “And Akira’s about to fight her.”
Aura gave a small, uneasy growl.
I swallowed hard.
“Oh gods… this isn’t training anymore. This is a suicide mission.”
55. The Queen of Darkness
The moment I step out into the stadium, the world feels… different.
Heavier. Denser. Like the air itself was watching me. Like gravity decided to clock in for overtime and drag my soul down with it.
The crowd is a sea of glowing banners and holograms, millions of Aetherborn, Mindborn and Baselines watching from around the world. The Entrance Exams surpassed Olympics viewership by the hundreds — summer Olympics stopped being held and moved to the spring because they couldn’t compete with audiences. Their voices rumble like a living storm. Every second feels like a countdown to something impossible.
Then she steps out.
From beneath the bleachers across from me — calm, deliberate, dangerous.
Nyra Vale.
And suddenly I remember.
Oh gods… and God.
It’s her.
How did I not realize when she brushed my shoulder?
My childhood crush. The girl whose crash course lectures I watched on HoloTube a hundred times—even though she was the same age as me. The prodigy who broke every rule of science and Divinity itself — the only Mindborn ever to awaken as an Aetherborn.
A hybrid. A paradox. A walking myth.
