"Who are you?" The words escaped before I fully thought them through.

  I should have asked something else—should have just accepted. He was clearly powerful. He could teach me. He was willing to teach me. And yet, the first thing out of my mouth was a question? As if it mattered. As if I had any right to ask.

  His eyes narrowed. The air around me thickened. Pressure. Not just weight—authority. A presence so immense it wasn’t something you resisted. It was something you endured.

  My breath hitched. My knees locked. Every muscle in my body screamed against the force pushing me down. It was beyond strength—it was expectation, a truth the world had already decided. That I would kneel.

  I clenched my fists. I refused. Then something pulsed in my closed hand. A slow, rhythmic thrum, glowed within my palm. The ring Alyssa had placed there.

  The pressure around me intensified. The weight pushing me down multiplied—but beneath it, the ring pulsed in unison. Not just pressing, but acknowledging. Restricting me, yet at the same time, agreeing with me.

  As if it too refused to kneel.

  The force crushed against my shoulders. I gritted my teeth. My knees buckled. Then, finally—I collapsed.

  The stone was cold beneath me. The sound of my knee hitting the ground echoed in the silence. Around me, the rest of the crowd had already crumbled, heads bowed, bodies curled under the sheer weight of him.

  Above me, his voice came low and deliberate. "You dare question me?" He wasn’t shouting. He didn’t need to. His voice carried wrath and expectation, a slow-burning fury that made my skin crawl.

  "An ant like you should be begging to join my class. When power from so high above descends, you do not question it." He took a step closer, his presence pressing down harder. "You accept it."

  I hated this.

  I hated this feeling—the expectation that I should submit, that I should bow because he expected it. That I should lower myself because he was stronger.

  Even if he could crush me. Even if I was nothing before him. I would not. Something inside me sparked. Small at first. Then burning.

  The pressure tried to crush it. It refused to die. My breath came in ragged pulls. I lifted my head, forcing my eyes to meet his, forcing him to see what was still there.

  A pulse. My palm throbbed, a slow beat that matched the fire rising inside me. It wasn’t resistance. Not just that.

  It was acknowledgment.

  I pressed my palm against the stone and pushed. My arms shook, my body screamed—but my knee lifted. One inch. Then another. The weight bore down again, fighting me, demanding I stay where I was. But I would not.

  I rose.

  Not in one motion. Not in defiance. In battle. A slow, steady, unrelenting push forward.

  When I finally stood, my breath was ragged, my muscles trembling, but I held his gaze.

  “I don’t seek power from those simply because they have it,” I said, my voice steady despite the exhaustion pressing into my bones.

  “I will find my own path. I will carve my own strength.”

  I took a step forward. The ring pulsed, as if pressing against me—and yet, not rejecting.

  “I will become stronger than even you.”

  I stood there, resisting his mere presence with everything I had, my muscles burning from the effort, my breath slow and controlled. But I held his gaze, refusing to look away, refusing to bend. Letting him see that I would defy everything if need be in my search for power. That I would not bow simply because he commanded it.

  The tension hung between us, thick and suffocating. Then—his aura vanished.

  The crushing weight lifted in an instant, like it had never been there at all. He shifted. The unrelenting force that had threatened to break me disappeared, and in its place, a booming laugh filled the chamber.

  “Hahahaha! You are a riot, kid!” His voice rang out, full-bodied and unapologetic, echoing off the stone walls. He clapped a hand to his knee, still chuckling. “I’ve had higher beings than you shitting their pants when I looked at them like that!"

  His laughter shook his entire body, like the weight of his own power didn’t even exist. The sheer contrast between the crushing force of moments ago and the man in front of me now was so abrupt that for a second, I just stared.

  Then I felt it.

  The shift in the air. The pressure of the moment had changed—from suffocating to almost absurd in the blink of an eye. The heaviness was gone, replaced with something strange and contagious.

  I smiled.

  I didn’t know what kind of test I had just passed, but it felt like one.

  He finally straightened, his laughter still lingering in his expression, like he hadn’t had that much fun in years. His hand came down heavily on my shoulder, solid and unwavering, still carrying that echo of mirth.

  "Come with me," he said, his grin still wide. "I’ll show you around the place. I need to introduce you to some of my friends.”

  He led the way, striding forward with a confidence that felt effortless, like he belonged everywhere he walked. The moment I stepped beside him, the air itself felt different.

  The academy had already been impressive from the outside, but now that I was inside it felt alien. Like what was inside was not what the world saw outside.

  We passed through arched doorways of shimmering energy, each one rippling as we crossed its threshold, opening into entirely different spaces. The ground beneath us shifted—from polished stone to smooth marble, then to floating platforms of glass that hovered over an expanse of cascading waterfalls. The sky above twisted, changing colors like the day itself was bending to the academy’s will.

  Students moved through the space around us, some walking, others soaring through the air on enchanted discs, while some simply vanished and reappeared in the distance as if the laws of movement didn’t apply to them. Every corridor felt alive, adjusting to accommodate whoever passed through, shifting walls, opening pathways that hadn’t been there a moment before.

  Chuckling he said “smile kid, you look like you just got punched in the gut.” He clapped me on the back, nearly sending me stumbling forward. “C’mon, pick up your jaw. You act like you’ve never seen a school before.”

  “This—” I gestured vaguely at everything. “—is not a school.”

  He threw his arms out dramatically, as if presenting the space to me like a stage performance. “Sure it is! You’ve got teachers, students, and most importantly—rules no one actually listens to. What more do you need?”

  I wasn’t entirely convinced. We passed what looked like a dueling pit carved into floating stone, where two students fought midair, their weapons leaving streaks of fire and ice in their wake. Further ahead, I spotted a garden where trees shimmered like crystal, their leaves occasionally lifting off and rearranging themselves before settling back into place.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “Where even are we?” I asked.

  “The best damn place in existence, obviously,” he said with a grin. “But if you mean geographically, the academy doesn’t exactly have a fixed point. It moves."

  “It moves?”

  “Depends on the day. Some days, it’s hovering over a void, others it’s anchored somewhere near a place you’d call reality. Today? We’re in-between.”

  I frowned, unsure of what that even meant, but before I could question him, he snapped his fingers, and a doorway of pure white light opened in front of us.

  “Now this—” he nudged me forward. “—is where the fun begins.”

  I stepped through and was immediately somewhere new.

  The sky above was a ceiling of swirling galaxies, stars orbiting lazily around massive floating rings. The ground beneath me was a shifting mosaic, each step revealing patterns beneath my feet that changed and pulsed with ancient script. Towers of impossibly tall bookshelves stretched into the void, their spines glowing as figures in robes levitated between them, plucking tomes from the air.

  We had entered a library.

  Or at least, something that resembled one—except this place didn’t just hold books. It held knowledge in its rawest form.

  He spread his arms wide. “Welcome to the Scholar’s Vault. If it’s ever been known, written, or imagined, it’s here.”

  I took a hesitant step forward, watching as an open book drifted past me, its pages turning on their own. Words glowed on the parchment, shifting between languages I couldn’t recognize before settling into one I could.

  “How does this—” I turned to him.

  He waggled his eyebrows. “Magic, kid. Try not to question it too much, or you’ll start questioning why you exist in the first place.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was joking.

  A massive feathered serpent slithered through the air above us, its golden eyes settling on me like a librarian catching sight of an unfamiliar guest. It let out a soft, reverberating sound, the kind that wasn’t quite a hiss, not quite a growl—more like the hum of something ancient, assessing, considering. Then it curled itself around one of the glowing spires, gaze flicking between us, or more likely, him.

  "Ah, there you are, you old serpent. I had a feeling you’d be in here." His voice was teasing, casual, but there was a familiarity in it.

  The serpent exhaled, a low vibration in the air. "Of course you 'had a feeling' I was in here. You can feel where everyone is inside your school."

  "Don’t be so dramatic!" He waved a hand as if swatting away the truth. "Look, I brought a guest! And you won't believe it—he whalloped that little shit from the Krutz family. So I thought, hey, might as well invite him to my class." He chuckled, then let out another booming laugh. "And he questioned me!"

  That got the serpent’s attention.

  She swung her head toward me, golden eyes locking onto mine, gaze peeling past flesh, past presence, like she was looking into something deeper. The reverberating hum started again, this time sharper, more focused.

  Then came words. Smooth. Layered with something deeper than sound.

  "You smell… unique." Her voice wasn’t exactly spoken—it simply existed in the air between us. "Are you from a newly initiated planet?"

  I hesitated. "No. Kinda. Yeah?" I was still sorting it out myself. "I’m in some sort of competition to become the leader of my planet before the rest of the world initiates."

  The serpent’s pupils widened. The air vibrated with another pulse of sound, this time faster, more hurried, like she had just stumbled across something valuable.

  When she spoke again, the excitement in her voice was unmistakable. "Whatever you need, just ask me. Join my class."

  I blinked. That was… unexpected.

  "We need to continue on now!" he cut in suddenly, grabbing my arm and rushing me out before I could even think about responding.

  I barely had time to look over my shoulder as the serpent watched us go, her golden eyes still locked onto me, that hum still resonating through the space.

  We stepped back out into the corridor, the air lighter, the vast presence of the vault fading behind us.

  "This is just one of the many places students get access to if they’re worth something," he said, turning back to me with a knowing smirk. "I’d advise taking her class. Very few are invited."

  I exhaled, still processing. "Who is she?"

  His grin widened. "Someone who doesn’t give offers lightly."

  He started walking again, motioning for me to follow. "Alright, kid. Next stop—somewhere a little more dangerous."

  We stepped through the portal, and I was back in the forge.

  Not just any forge—the forge.

  The one that had shaped Painforged Armory.

  The heat wasn’t just hot—it was alive, pressing against my skin like the breath of something waiting to consume me whole. The air shimmered with waves of molten light, the scent of burning metal thick, searing my lungs in a way that felt too familiar.

  The blackened stone beneath me was cracked with glowing veins of fire, pulsing like they were alive, like they had always been alive. I looked up and saw massive rings of floating iron suspended overhead, shifting slowly, each one humming with power. Molten rivers carved paths through the cavern like veins of a beast, weaving around platforms of black stone.

  At the center of it all, hunched over a massive anvil, was him. I knew him. Not by name, not by reputation—but by presence.

  He was exactly like the blacksmith in my skill. The same shape. The same sheer weight of existence. The way he moved, the way he stood, the way he swung his hammer—it was the same.

  The anvil roared with fire as he brought his hammer down, and the shockwave rippled through my bones. The sound wasn’t just heard—it was felt, deep in the marrow, shaking the space itself.

  He didn’t look up. Not even when we stepped closer.

  "You bring me a gift?" His voice rumbled through the chamber like the grinding of the earth itself.

  "Hah! A gift?" My guide clapped me on the back, grinning. "Not quite, old friend. I brought someone fun. Thought you’d want to see him."

  The blacksmith finally turned, his molten-white eyes burning behind a thick, braided beard lined with metal rings. His skin was blackened and cracked like cooled lava, but the fire underneath was still very much alive. He towered over us, every movement slow and deliberate, like a being that had never once rushed for anything. He barely glanced at me before turning back to his work. I wasn’t worth his time. I wasn’t worth noticing.

  I clenched my fists, the heat pressing into my skin, making my muscles coil tight with something I didn’t quite understand.

  I knew him.

  I took a step forward. "You—" My voice came out rough, raw from the heat, from the sheer weight of presence in the room. "You look just like the blacksmith in my skill."

  That got his attention. He stopped. The hammer, mid-swing, froze in the air.

  Then, slowly, deliberately, he turned toward me. His eyes, burning and endless, locked onto mine, and for the first time, I felt the full force of his gaze.

  "What did you just say?"

  I swallowed, my throat dry. The words felt heavier now.

  "My skill. Painforged Armory. When I use it… you are there. Or something just like you."

  The molten cracks along his body flared. The forge pulsed in response, a deep, slow exhale of heat.

  His focus was entirely on me now, but he wasn’t just looking.

  He was searching. "Show me," he rumbled. "Summon it."

  I hesitated.

  The forge was the same, but this wasn’t inside my skill. Something about summoning Painforged Armory here felt… wrong.

  Instead, I unsheathed Woundreaver and held it out. His eyes flickered to the weapon. Then everything about him changed.

  He stepped forward, faster than I expected, taking Woundreaver from my grip without hesitation. His massive hands dwarfed the blade, his fingers running along its jagged, serrated edge, his expression unreadable.

  The heat in the forge pulsed.

  The molten veins in his skin dimmed, not in weakness, but in something else—something like recognition.

  His fingers brushed the hilt, and for the first time since we had arrived, his voice softened.

  "This was forged by my father."

  The words carried a different weight now. Not the heavy, crushing presence of before—this was something deeper. Personal.

  I stared at him, and for a long moment, we both stood in silence. Then, without looking up, he spoke again.

  "You will join my class."

  It wasn’t an invitation. It wasn’t a demand. It was a statement.

  He extended Woundreaver back to me, his molten gaze already shifting away, his focus returning to the forge. The moment I took it from his grasp, he turned back to his anvil, the weapon forgotten—as if our entire exchange had been nothing more than a passing moment, a minor pause in something far greater.

  The fire around us shifted, pulling inward, drawn back into the heart of the forge as he lifted his hammer once more. The room itself seemed to breathe with him, the heat rolling in slow, heavy pulses, waiting for his next strike.

  As if in conspiracy, the man—the headmaster, whose name I still didn’t know—leaned down beside me, his voice low, playful, yet edged with something knowing.

  "When he’s crafting, he becomes completely focused on it. He’s usually more chatty. Best leave him be for now."

  He straightened, grinning as he clapped a hand on my shoulder, already steering me toward another portal.