First Impressions

[Morning – Project Earth Academy]

The halls of the Academy were alive with motion — students hustled between sectors, voices buzzing, uniforms flashing with house emblems and squad colors. Futuristic holograms flickered above, updating live student rankings from the previous day’s trial.

Zeno’s name sat somewhere in the middle. Not remarkable. Not forgettable either.

Exactly where I want to be, he thought.

He kept his hood low, eyes calm as the Academy’s internal systems offered a guided scan of the grounds.

Training Grounds — wide arenas with projection walls that mimicked real-world terrain. Simulated monsters roared, their AI dangerous but controlled.

Tech Labs — students working alongside engineers to mod and test their personal gear. Armor pieces hovered mid-air in holographic renderings.

Meditation Domes — filled with pulsating orbs of light, the place gave off a deep calm. Powers were emotional here — and emotions needed walls.

Observation Decks — above it all, instructors watched behind dark one-way glass, their eyes always tracking... especially the unknowns.

[Hall Encounter – The Freshmen]

“Yo, wind boy!” Calen called out with a grin, lightning twitching at his fingers like impatient static. “Join my team. Sparring match today. We’re one short.”

Zeno blinked. “I’m not really—”

Before he could finish, Lana Cross crossed her arms, fire coiling lazily around her forearm.

“If you’re too weak to back him up, just say so.”

The insult was casual, not cruel. But it hit something in him.

Zeno sighed and nodded. “I’m in.”

Across the room, Mira Lane watched quietly. The surface of her iris shimmered, like watching calm water before a storm.

There’s something buried in him, she thought. Something he’s afraid to feel.

Darian Holt, calm and quiet, gave Zeno a small nod. It said more than words could.

[Sparring Match – Team Calen vs. Team Bronn]

The arena was vast — terrain shifting from cracked pavement to canyon walls and uneven ruins. Simulated wind howled. The crowd above watched in silence.

Team Bronn — seasoned upperclassmen — stood tall, their powers humming like restrained beasts. Sand manipulation, wind blasts, brute force.

Zeno stayed toward the back at first. He used his air skills with precision — vaulting over obstacles, redirecting force, and sweeping pressure to knock enemies off balance. Never flashy. Always just enough.

Calen’s lightning was relentless — zapping targets and overcharging metallic traps Lana had rigged with searing heat. She torched the ground, driving enemies into pre-set zones. Mira’s water moved like needles — silent and sharp. She froze a sand manipulator mid-strike.

Darian summoned towering stone walls, dividing the field with clean, brutal control.

The team flowed like they'd trained together for months. They hadn't.

Until Zeno got separated.

[Zeno vs. Bronn’s Captain]

He landed wrong, rolled under debris — and found himself alone with Bronn's team captain. A tall, smirking senior with blood-red eyes and a heavy blade of compressed storm metal.

The captain cracked his knuckles.

“You don’t belong here, freshman. You’re hiding something. I can smell it.”

Zeno’s breath caught.

He knows.

The enemy lunged. Zeno deflected with a burst of wind, but it wasn’t enough. A punch landed — ribs bruised. He stumbled.

No. Not here. Not again…

His vision blurred. His hands twitched. The air… stopped moving.

His eyes glowed faintly — alien blue piercing through.

For a moment, everything went still. The pressure shifted — like the world paused to hold its breath.

But Zeno didn’t snap. Instead, he focused that pressure, shaped the air, and launched the captain vertically — hard — smashing him into the ceiling with a controlled blast of molecular force.

The crowd gasped.

Match over. Team Calen wins. Barely.

[Observation Room – Instructor Review]

High above, behind mirrored glass, a veteran instructor rewound the fight footage. His eyes scanned through layers of energy and motion in x-ray clarity.

“That wasn’t just wind. He manipulated molecular weight… like someone who’s trained under gravitic thresholds.”

Colton Briggs — scarred, sharp-eyed, in charge of security review and the main Project Earth Recruiter, — said nothing for a moment.

Then: “Keep watching him. But don’t interfere. If he’s hiding something… it’ll surface soon enough.”

[Rooftop – That Night]

The city glowed below, a sea of hovering lights and neon haze. On the dorm rooftop, Zeno sat alone again — back against the steel railing, eyes on the sky.

But this time, footsteps approached.

Calen flopped down beside him. “Told you you weren’t normal. That was sick.”

Lana followed, arms crossed. “Still don’t like you. But I guess you’re not useless.”

Mira stood a few feet away, gaze soft. “You don’t have to pretend with us, you know. We’re all holding something in.”

Darian didn’t speak, just nodded and leaned against the wall.

Zeno didn’t say anything. But for the first time, he smiled — just a little.

They sat there as teammates. Not friends. Not yet. But maybe something close.

His gaze rose again.

One star, faint and far off, glowed dimly — red with a flicker of blue.

Zeno (inner monologue):

That’s Nemesis. Still watching. I can’t slip. Not yet.

[Final Scene – Planet Nemesis]

A room of obsidian crystal pulsed with sick light. Nexar Nemis stood before a warping orb, his hand dissolving into raw void as he pressed it into the energy pool.

Earth’s surface shimmered into view.

“He still breathes like them. Talks like them. But he’s ours,” Nexar muttered.

A new figure stepped forward — cloaked in ash-gray robes, eyes glowing red behind a black visor.

“Shall I retrieve him, my lord?”

Nexar smiled.

“No... not yet. Let them grow attached to him first. Let him believe he’s safe.”

He turned toward the stars, the war behind his eyes already unfolding.

TO BE CONTINUED

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