My Infinite System.

”Your students are something else,” William said, his smirk twisting his lips as his brown hair shifted under the breeze of the observation deck fans. ”But I doubt they’ll do anything to my class. They’re just kids with fancy tricks. My students might not have special abilities, but they’re seniors. They’ve trained for years. Why do you want to put Lucian against them?”

Athena didn’t turn to him at first. Her sharp violet eyes remained on the glowing screens showing the cracked arena stage, where Class Zero students rested and stretched in the golden morning light. She exhaled softly before replying.

”William, you should know better than anyone how dangerous a special ability awakener is... since you’ve faced one before.”

His smirk faltered. The faint twitch of his jaw betrayed the memory. For a moment, the image of a broken training ground flashed behind his eyes, the day a first-year awakened mid-spar and nearly killed him with a single burst of raw energy. He clenched his fists at his sides.

Another instructor chuckled softly from behind them. She was a tall woman with cropped silver hair and pale blue robes. ”She’s right, William. Special awakeners break rules. It’s in their blood.”

”But still,” said a man with glasses and narrow eyes, flicking through a tablet of student mana profiles. ”This is a formal assessment. Pitting juniors against seniors is pointless. Especially your Class Zero freaks against normal combat students.”

Athena remained silent, her eyes half-lidded. The wind tugged lightly at her black uniform coat, flaring it around her ankles. She shifted her gaze across the instructors gathered on the balcony—twelve of them in total, each representing a different combat or mana discipline within the academy.

A shorter instructor with rough hands and burn scars across his knuckles snorted. ”They’re kids. Let them fight each other. No need to humiliate our upper years for the sake of your pride, Athena.”

At that, she turned her eyes to him, unblinking.

”This isn’t about pride,” she said softly, her voice like steel wrapped in silk. ”It’s about reality. Your students train to be strong. Mine... were born as weapons.”

Silence fell. Even William looked away, his frown deepening.

Then Athena sighed, closing her eyes briefly as if bored. She flicked her wrist, and her tablet projected a faint blue screen showing class rankings, resource allocations, and quarterly privileges.

”Why don’t we spice it up,” she said quietly.

The instructors turned to her.

Her violet eyes opened again, sharp and cold under the early sun.

”Your entire class... versus mine.”

William blinked. ”What?”

”The seniors,” Athena repeated, her tone flat. ”Your entire combat class... against my Class Zero.”

”That’s absurd,” snapped the glasses instructor. ”You’re going to send first-years to die against seniors with four years of training?!”

A murmur spread among the instructors, some nodding in agreement, others watching her with cautious curiosity.

”Unless,” Athena continued, her gaze flicking over their faces, ”you’re afraid.”

The burned-knuckle instructor’s jaw tightened. ”This isn’t about fear, Athena. It’s about fairness.”

”Fairness...” Athena echoed, her lips curling faintly. ”Then let’s make it fair.”

She flicked her wrist again, and the projected tablet shifted to show the Academy’s quarterly resource pool—items, permissions, training slots, and ranked privileges.

”I’ll put something at stake,” she said calmly. ”If Class Zero loses, they will not participate in any advanced arena or combat drills for the rest of the quarter. They’ll remain as theory students only.”

Silence.

”And if they win,” she continued, her eyes narrowing, ”Class Zero takes your class’s allocated Zenith Week slot.”

Gasps rippled among the instructors. Zenith Week was the annual intensive training reserved for only top-ranked upper year students, involving exclusive mentorship from external Hunter guilds and foreign academy delegates. Even a single slot granted a student direct access to recruitment offers and advanced artifact contracts.

”That’s—” William started, but his voice caught. He clenched his jaw, thinking hard. His students had been preparing for Zenith Week all year. But Athena’s students were first-years. Even with their terrifying abilities, they were outnumbered, undertrained, and still untested against disciplined combat formations.

He looked at her, searching for hesitation. There was none. Only calm, cold certainty.

”...Fine,” he said finally, his smirk returning, but weaker this time. ”Let’s see what your Class Zero freaks can do.”

The other instructors murmured in agreement, some nodding with reluctant approval, others simply curious to see the outcome of such an unprecedented match.

Athena flicked off her tablet and turned away, her black braid swinging down her back as she began walking towards the stairway that led down to the instructor tunnel.

”Where are you going?” William called after her.

She didn’t turn back as she answered, her voice echoing lightly in the morning breeze.

”To tell them the new arrangement.”

Down in the arena, the students of Class Zero were sitting by the cracked stage edge, their shadows long under the slanting sun. Silas was rolling his shoulders again, wincing at the bruises along his ribs. Reia sat beside him, wrist brace off, staring blankly at her water flask. Vyn was standing apart, her hair drifting in the faint breeze, silent as always. Evelyn sat cross-legged, eyes closed, her fingers trembling faintly as residual lightning flickered under her skin.

Lucian sat a few meters away, leaning back on his elbows, eyes half-lidded as he watched the screens flicker overhead.

The main arena gates opened with a loud clang.

The students looked up as Athena stepped out onto the stone, her boots echoing in the hush that followed her arrival. Behind her walked Anita, another instructor clad in black combat robes, her long hair tied in a tight bun.

Athena stopped at the center, folding her arms as Anita stepped forward to address the waiting students. The instructors in the observation balcony watched silently, their eyes flickering with anticipation.

”Change of plans,” Anita announced, her voice carrying clearly across the hushed arena.

The students looked at each other, confusion flickering in their tired eyes.

”There will be no semi-finals. No finals. No individual winners,” Anita continued.

Silas frowned, scratching his cheek. Reia narrowed her tired eyes faintly. Vyn tilted her head a millimeter. Evelyn blinked, sweat dripping down her neck.

Lucian just sighed softly, brushing his bangs from his half-closed eyes, his expression unreadable.

Anita looked at them all, her gaze sharp and cold.

”Your final assessment for today is an inter-class match,” she said flatly. ”Class Zero... versus the Senior Combat Class.”

Silence. Then gasps erupted among the students. Even Silas’ brows shot up in surprise.

”They’re putting us against seniors...?” Evelyn whispered under her breath, her voice trembling.

Anita’s expression didn’t change. She continued in that same cold, detached tone.

”The match will begin in one hour. You will be given time to recover, strategize, and prepare. Win... and Class Zero will inherit the Senior Combat Class’s Zenith Week slot.”

Silas’ eyes widened. Even he knew what Zenith Week meant.

Reia inhaled slowly, her circuits flickering dim gold along her temples as calculations raced behind her blank gaze.

Evelyn’s fingers clenched around her uniform skirt, adrenaline and fear mixing like fire in her chest.

Lucian just smirked faintly, lowering his gaze as his bangs shadowed his eyes. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips.

Interesting... he thought.

Anita turned sharply, her black robes whipping around her ankles as she walked off the stage. Athena followed her without a word, her calm violet gaze meeting Lucian’s for half a second before she turned away.

The students sat in silence as the news settled over them like a silent storm cloud. Around the arena, normal students watching from the stands burst into excited murmurs.

”They’re fighting seniors?!”

”No way... that’s insane.”

”It’s Class Zero... maybe they’ll win.”

”Against seniors? Not happening.”

On the cracked stone stage, Lucian pushed himself to his feet slowly, brushing invisible dust from his black trousers. He rolled his shoulders back, looking down at his trembling hands with faint curiosity.

Then he smiled softly, his shadow stretching long in the rising sun.

Finally... something fun.

And as the other Class Zero students stood beside him, their eyes dark with silent resolve, the wind carried the scent of stone dust and faint ozone across the silent arena—

A quiet promise of the storm to come.