Sighting, Sharie leans quite heavily on the sofa, feeling tired but glad she is even alive.

One would wonder what she went through behind that door. Even she did not expect what went there, and every fiber in her body screams in agonizing pain.

She is glad that whatever desires that remains in her head are going away, and the comfort of the sofa hugs her body. It is a rare feeling. She never felt this sort of comfort ever, and for once, this sofa seems like the most precious bed she ever had.

This goes on for a couple of seconds, while the room remains silent. The first-timers remain in their spots, and even the butler is yet to tell the next person.

Sharie doesn't care about anything anymore and even closes her eyes, oblivious to the rest of the first-timers that are around. Some are curious about her opinion, or what happened, since it appears she did what she had to do and is successful with this Trial. She hasn't left like Roberto, or it doesn't matter if one leave or stays?

A lot of them think she passes. That could mean a lot of things and a lot of curious questions with interesting answers.

However, none of them asks her a thing, but few shot her curious glances. William is one of them, and he loses his mind about what he should or could do. He stays at it since he doesn't want to make it awkward. He keeps himself silent, wondering how her previous appearance looked, how many minutes passed, and so on.

At some point during her stay inside, he even took out his watch from his bag and started playing with it in his hands. It was to pass the time and also keep the time in check.

Now, he remains nervous and expectant on the trial, which isn't bad, or good.

Everyone is curious about the trial, but what good could Sharie tell them about this trial? In fact, why Tiberon didn't tell a thing? If it would make some difference to tell or not, they should've told them something beforehand. Even returning first-timers would give them some clues, so isn't that kind of counterproductive?

William keeps looking at Sharie and also shoots a glance at the open door to the left, where the butler stands aside. No one has been summoned yet.

No one also knows the answer to what goes around the Trial. Not even Sharie, who is kind of confused about why this sort of trial goes the way it is. More sense wouldn't hurt, she reckons. But she was inside, so she got some answers to her previous curiosity when she saw Roberto fails. She understands what is it about, and Tiberon is a true devil, but what may happen to the rest of them, she has no clue.

She even considers she got the same touch as Roberto did, but he didn't tell much. So what is going on with telling them or not, may or may not matter at all. Talking about it seems somewhat pointless in her mind, and she realizes that fact.

So, she figures some explanation is at least due, but she refrains from being too direct about it. Instead, she utters two words for the sake of camaraderie that is within her heart.

“Heart. Endurance.” Sharie says, stretching her arms and almost falling asleep. “and best shot.”

Even Celleste to her left is taken aback by her words, but only a little, since she feels more expectant than nervous.

With that said, Sharie doesn't talk any longer, and surprisingly, even Stark keeps his mouth shut. Since everything indicates a rather harsh endurance rush, indicative of her tiredness and rest on the sofa, most of them know that more words are useless.

Most of them have to do what they can and should do, so they focus on what is before them. They will rest as much as possible in preparation for what is in that bunker. Whether they aren't tired or not then speak nothing of their talent, but it certainly has some connection to passing this trial or not.

That is at least what a lot of them think, but that is quite different in Walker's words. They have to endure worse than what any normal person would do since Walkers are no longer normal people. For a Walker to get tired, it is something that would shatter a common person's senses. It is also about the lack of a firm mind, and if one Walker is beyond tired, it means many things.

Emblem Academy must make sure to drill this idea into their heads, and it is a priority for any talented Walker to know their limits in many ways.

After her couple of words, it's time for the 3rd challenger. Butler points to a robust-looking youth, who doesn't look his age. He has shaved head, which makes his head stand out more apart from his skin. He wouldn't be bald, which is funny why would someone be willing to go bald if one has the hair to grow.

What is different than that is the fact of his skin, which is dark and makes him of African descent. That's more or less indicative of his place of origin, but that may not be correct, since people like him were in a lot of places prior to the apocalypse. What stands out more are the tattoos around his head, with intricate details of many lines, and symbols. He also wears a tight-fitted vest made of leather and similar-looking trousers.

He also has flippers as shoes, without any socks. This sort of person isn't common to see in the Federation from the attire and tattoos alone. He must be from far away, and truly be from Africa, which like any place is full of Dark beings like any other continent. It may be in a different sense than the rest of the world, but in any way, humanity is still surviving.

Most don't assume him to be strange, however. Skin color became an insensible thing to be worried about, and considering the Federation is no nation, there are many ethnicities in one place. From African Americans, and Hispanics, to Asians. It is a wide mixture of everything since it is mainly a force ushered from former Canada and the United States, which had a lot of ethnicities.

To see this youth in this Trial isn't rare, and no one thinks of him as strange. People remain living one way or another either way, while any surviving community Outside is worth praising.

“Onga Ross. You are the next. Come inside.” butler tells, indicating the youth to the door. He appears quite courageous and fierce looking. He stands up in a second, and in a wide and quick movement, disappears behind the door. His stature is similar to Rozzante and slightly smaller than Zech.

“Oh, an Onga? Isn't that the name of a tribe in Madagascar, who basically slaughtered their way into the living conditions?” Louise asks out loud enough for Stark to hear, and Rozzante to wonder what is up with Onga or Madagascar. He never heard of that place before, nor heard of Ongas.

“It's probably a coincidence.” Starks comments. “Just a name. Not a bit deal.”

“Or it is pretty much true. Haven't you seen his tattoos?” Louise argues.

“I don't like looking at useless things and am not a fan of guessing. I didn't have time to care about researching any particular individuals from the Awakening so I have no idea why you are even curious about them.” Stark says, indicating there is not much point in Louise's curiosity. So what if he is here and is from Onga settlement?

There are plenty of Outsiders in the Academy and Federation as a whole, and each is worthy of some value. Any kind of Walker who saw and grew up Outside is a different kind of impressiveness. Each can have different views and experiences, since a lot of Dark beings may be unique to many continental differences.

Races or ethnicities no longer matter at all. They may look different, but mixtures of them all ensure one doesn't think of any ethnicities at all. Since the apocalypse, this sense of difference is worth forgetting, and it indeed isn't worth the current reality.

It's not like race is all that important when human history is on the edge of its own survival and living.

With the rise of the apocalypse, almost all mentions of racism disappeared from the earth altogether. Perhaps that is one of the good sides of the Apocalypse, as it makes humans stick together and not bother one another with meaningless things.

William keeps himself busy watching the watch and counting his own time. He also breathes lightly, calming his mind, and watches his wide-open Emblem. The Vectors within them are calming down like his own body, and they will be ready soon.

Though, there is still something that jolts his mind. William hasn't taken a look at his System in a while so he opens his mind like his hand. Unnoticed by anyone, the flickering light before his face appears, and a screen is before his face. “Well, there it is. None see it, but...” he glances around. “Do they watch it too? I can't tell, but most of the others focus on resting, but this System isn't stressing me out at all, so let's take a look.”

William glances at it and watches how the screen flickers to the opening sequences.

Initializing the rebooting

Found the improvements and higher Vector efficiency

Hunt unfounded, but fight and pressing of the Vectors and Mindless Eyes are prone to changes

Factors of statuses remodeled into the System

Recalculating...

He watches in silence, not gesturing with his hand as the screen flickers before his face. It doesn't feel like anything, but shimmering little waves of water, or electricity beyond his emblem. If one would be insensitive towards it, it would feel like nothing.

William even thinks about how it all works. Is it some sort of long technology? How others don't see it?

That is a wonderful question, that no one could answer.

After a few minutes, the flickering screen changes, and new words spread around the screen.

Reformatting completed

Recalculated the rights of the Vectors, and other statues from the Mindless Eyes to Vectors, and Skills

Proceedings with the new changes, additions to the new comprehensions, and upgrades.

Then, the whole screen starts shaking until further changes flickers in their appearance.

It is a rundown page of his current status.

Willam Gale

Rank 1

Current progress: 24% towards Rank 2

Type: Vector, Mutant

Status: Recuperating, Cyckles stabilized.

Health: Enchanted greatness

Current Skills

Touch of Vectors - Rank 0 [Skill to shape up the Vectors, and create molds]

Inner Enchantment - Rank 0 [Defensive, Enchanting, and supporting the type of a Skill. It depicts the inner cycles of the Emblem to a certain effectiveness, which adds certain power, time limit, and defenses to the Inner Enchantment]

Vector Affinity - Rank 1 [Effectivess of the Vectors. It moves and affects the might and power of the Emblem and Annihilation alike]

Velvet Eyes - Rank 1 [Supportive Skill. It adds a certain power over the perception, sight, and enchanted visual and reflexive power]

Annihilation Element - Rank 1 [Core Element of your Emblem. Power of Destruction, with high versatility, uncontrollability, and shaking effects against the Dark beings.]

Feel of the Annihilation - Rank 1 [Skill to allow distinct controllability of the Annihilation Element. Current grade - Passable but not great]

Current Molds

Vector Claw - Rank 1 [Base Mold of your Emblem. Familiarity - Passable]

Vector Hand - Rank 0 [Experimental mold of your Emblem. Familiarity - Not That Great]

Annihilation Claw - Rank 1 [Base Mold of your unleashed Emblem. It is affected by the Feel of Annihilation, so it has certain criteria for changes in percentiles, and controllability. Familiarity - Dependable. Certain Forms are detected, but uncharacterized. Further improvements, familiarity, and power are needed]

Skill will increase with the Rank-Ups and their use. Training is recommended using the Mindless Eye, fight, and stress.

Hunting is necessary to harvest the results and follow the System, while any Skill can follow that, or not.

That is about what it mentions, and William reads it all in a matter of 2 minutes. He takes his time, so he appears as if he glances at nothing from outside perceive, yet his eyes jolt left and right, which makes him appear a bit suspicious.

“Wait, 24? I got closer to the Rank 2 than in the past 9 days?” Willaim wonders, surprised but not shocked. He looked at this page yesterday with Roman beside him, so he knows what is here and not.

It appears the System acknowledges some of his achievements from the past and gives him some better information. Willliam knows a few of these things, which Roman explained as System Improvements. These are effectively small helps that follow Walkers in their progression, and familiarity with their Emblems.

Now, William is getting yet another taste of that, but it isn't as noticeable for his body or Emblem. Even his mind feels unflustered, so he thinks of it further, while more minutes pass on.

In a while, the door shots open, and Onga Ross walks from the bunker, completely unscathed, but still with a focused gaze and not a smile, nor frown on his face. He looks serious and quite domineering.

He looks around, shooting a curious glance at Sharie, who previously took the place inside. She holds her eyes close, so she doesn't notice his interest.

Shaking his head, Ross takes his stance by not talking, but something definitely is fishy about that look. He takes a seat on a single chair close to the door. Crossing his arms, he sits cross-legged on a wooden chair, which seems weird, but it is what it is.

Once more, the first-timers pay another challenger some attention, but before much happens, it's time for the 4th one.

Surprisingly, the butler waits for not much longer and points at Rozzante, who seems to be surprised. He expected to talk with Louise further, but regardless of that, he gets up and walks towards the door.

As he does so, Louise feels certain about his success.

“What do you think about him Stark? If successful, should he make a good member?” he asks.

“Maybe. We need to take better care of knowing the future members, you know? The personal feelings, economics, and human side of things. It needs to be a perfect fit.” Stark tells, surprising Louise with the words that appear rare to come from his mouth.

“You, who are you!? Who caused Stark to speak in a sense like that? You sick?” Louise asks, exaggerating his words by shaking Stark's unbothered shoulder.

Not far, William notices that it's Rozzante's time, so he gives him a customary thumbs-up to cheer him up. Though, he isn't sure it's something that could help him much.

“There goes Rozzante, but Onga Ross remained there for less than 10 minutes.” William shakes his hand close, ceasing the System away to look at the clock. He isn't wrong. “Interesting. Is it then endurance fight, or something else? Did Tiberon make some changes depending on the Walkers, or Onga was compatible with the way this trial works?” Wiliam wonders, taking a long glance at Onga, who notices his gaze.

Their gaze meets, but neither of them voices or does a thing.

Onga doesn't pay him much attention since he is a proud warrior.

So, William has no choice but to wait further on the sofa, glancing at the ceiling or the floor while waiting. That's what he could do, and that's what he does for the next 10 minutes.

The door slams open once more, and Rozzante walks away from the door, appearing fine and collected. He even has a smirk of victory on his face, but his shirt is a bit tattered as if it was torn to pieces by a wild storm. Though, there is no blood on it or underneath it. He isn't injured, which is a good thing.

Instead of coming back to Louise, he goes straight to William, while ignoring Ross's gaze, and the remaining first-timers.

“So it is a win for you as well? Congratulation, Rozzante.” Willian says, appearing happy for this new friend.

“You don't say it is, but things are harsh out there. I felt like watching the Dark Tide again... How savage. It's quite hard though, so you better prepare your heart as that girl Sharie said.” he explains, tossing his body right beside William on the sofa.

Meanwhile, the butler notions for yet another person to come in. That's Louise this time around, who hypes himself with a slap to his face. There doesn't seem any kind of indication or system about who comes next. It seems to be more or less random, but who is here to know that?

“So a heart?” William asks, glancing at Rozzanta who is taking care of his tattered clothes. Surprisingly enough, he has a small kit for fixing his tattered shirt, which is strange, but William doesn't question it that much. It consists of some needles, and threads of some fabric.

“Yea. That and endurance. I don't actually think it can be told any better, but I bet my shirt that a lot of things can change. Sharie was quite clever to word it this way, but she must have gone through much harsher things. The trial seems different for some, I bet.” Rozzanta nods to himself, not making it any less complicated to William who is fine with not knowing anything more than that.

“But Rozzante... What makes it so that Sharie appeared that tired, while you or Onga aren't?”

“As I said. Endurance. She isn't great at it like us.” Rossante says. “I guess.”

“You guess? Should I take it as it could vary? Now, I am really wondering what Tiberon makes you do.”

“Actually, not that much. It's he who does things.”

“What?” William falls into a storm of thought, having fun with it, instead of worrying about it.

Like this, his passing time is leading him to a much more interesting time, than staring at the ceiling.

Sometime later, Louise appears from the door too, somewhat tired, and somewhat fine. He still wears some sort of smirk, which will probably never go away.

He strides his way forward, sitting right beside Stark once more, who doesn't even question him about anything. He has no need for that. He doesn't need an acknowledgment if Louise succeeds in this Trial. It is obvious to him already. In fact, if he didn't succeed he would be really surprised if that would be the case.

Butler looks at the remaining first-timers and chooses one at random. “William Gale is next. Come in.”

“Alright! Time to see what's up with those words of yours. See you later Rozzante.” He tells, patting Rozzant'es shoulder, and jolting his head from fixing his shirt. It is obvious that he looks forward to seeing what's behind the door.

“Good luck then. Give it some heart.” Rozzante adds.

Walking through the door, William isn't all that curious about what he will see, but what will happen here.

To his surprise, the bunker looks a bit different than the one from before. The sight of destroyed walls in this bunker reveals quite some mess and destruction. Most of the concrete has many lines of, and smashed hits, while some metallic reinforcements are bent, cut, or pushed as if a bulldozer hit them.

William couldn't fathom those damages. In fact, throughout their waiting, they never felt any sense of destruction, or any sounds coming from this bunker.

There are crevices, dust, and debris from the smashed and destroyed floor around. It's similar to the sights he saw with Roman in their bunker, but this time, it's in a smaller room. It's clear this is also some Bunker meant to survive a nuclear explosion from outside, but what if some would hit from inside?

William supposes this is the work of the last first-timers, or it is Tiberon's work of art.

In the chair, in the middle of this mess is an unbothered-looking Tiberon. He leans his back on the chair, still wearing the same old cloak, face, and looks quite intimidating.

“Next one to see my Trial? Excellent and right. What's going to be? A failure or success?” he asks in a good mood.

“There has been only 1 failure so far, wasn't it?” William voices his guess.

“What makes you say so? Is it something that the ones before you said to you before? That is peculiar.”

“Not like it matters, am I right?” William says and stops walking 10 feet before the chair.

“Ho... I guess I take it as you are a curious boy, who is ready to start this Trial. Keep with it... if you dare.” Tiberon says and pointed with his finger forward.

The world shudders, the room and debris move, and Tiberon's aura shoots wide open. It's as if a world of pressure is right before William who doesn't know what to do with this. He steps back, bends his knees, and almost collapses to the ground.

“Oh? Took it well like the rest.” Tiberon comments.

The aura of this pressuring domain almost resembles an unfathomable storm. William winces his body straight and looks around. He sees tiny little shimmering lines of strange vectors, that come off from Tiberion without any order, but with vision of destruction and stress.

It makes his breathing hard, his knees weak, and his mind flickers with pain. Forcing himself to stand straight is quite harsh indeed, and he feels like losing his mind.

“Endurance and heart? So that's quite something terrifying in this case. Devilish...” William thinks and resolves his heart and body. He is forcing himself to endure this storm without summoning his Emblem, but it seems to be quite stressful. Muscles and his blood flow seem to take the blow, and William feels as if he couldn't move a finger.

“Another one who thinks he can do this without Emblem? You think too highly of yourself, boy.” Tiberon says while the fury of his aura makes the terrific pressure that much wilder.

“I am not afraid of you. In fact, I found your gaze to be quite weaker than madame Enderson!” William shouts, making his voice appear as strong as he could muster.

“Enderson? Who is that? I doubt you mean that man. Is she strong? She must be if you think she is stronger them my gaze.” Tiber says, obvious to William's mocking words that only he could understand.

“Who knows?” he mumbles.

“Fine. Keep your words in your mouth, or your lungs will come out of it instead. You will tell me about her if you won't be able to go past this Trial of mine. Things will move up. Gradually that is.”

“Ugh... Keep it coming.” William says, feeling like a world is falling onto his shoulders.

Freaking goodness. Is this a power of gravity? This pressure is encompassing every inch of my body. It goes to my mind, my bones, insides, and even muscles are affected. I guess it's so encompassing, so it stimulates my body in a way to force my limits. It takes my everything to go against this pressure, so this must be this Trial? It must include the limits and cycles of the Acranite matter that is slowly fusing with my body. William assumes as the first 1 and a half minutes go by.

He has yet to rely on his Emblem.

Though it's getting out of his touch, and the further this goes, the more hunched his back and body gets. He is almost crouching on the ground.

“There is no rule in this Trial, boy. You fail, and you lose, but it isn't that alone. Show some heart. The only thing that matters is that, and your damned soul will continue going. Body and mind are one, but Walkers are above that. Show me your power. If you do lose the way of your heart, it's your end. That, or if you give up, run, or something like that.” Tiberon explains, enjoying the view from the chair, while his surroundings are littered with destruction.

He is the reason for every destruction, since his Aura Domain is absolutely terrifying and bends thick metal, and affects large slabs of concrete like tofu.