“Yo, Pervert Dragon! Cat got your tongue? Talk to me!” Anderson taunted, his voice carrying over the arena’s noise as the other students laughed, all clearly familiar with the viral video that had tagged her with that ridiculous name.

Valerie clenched her jaw, eyes locked on the course where the next student was taking their shot. Her fists were tight, fingers pressing hard enough to whiten her knuckles. She ignored Anderson, but her silence only seemed to amuse him more.

“What’s the matter, bikini hero?” he sneered, sending another wave of laughter through the crowd of freshmen.

Fiona turned sharply to face him, her usual cheer replaced by an intense glare. “Shut up! Don’t talk to us!”

Anderson’s gaze shifted, landing on her with an exaggerated smirk. “And who’s this pretty lady?” he drawled, eyeing her up and down in a way that made Fiona’s skin crawl. “Why are you sitting with that pervert? Come sit with me. After this little ‘show,’ I’ll take you out. Show you a real good time. Whaddya say, babe?” His leer was unmistakable.

“Shut up, Anderson!” Kian growled, clenching his fists. There was a flash of jealousy in his face, and he straightened, taking a half-step forward.

“Oh, if it isn’t Kian Drexlers, the ‘champ’ of Vigon High.” Anderson laughed mockingly, tilting his head with a fake sigh. “What are you gonna do about it, Drexlers? Do something, pussy!” he said darkly, his voice dripping with menace.

Kian froze, his face clouding over with a mix of anger and fear, a memory clearly lurking just under the surface.

Fiona, alarmed, turned to Valerie. “Val, say something!”

Valerie rose slowly, meeting Anderson’s smirking face with a look of cold fury. “If you keep talking—”

“Excuse me, Miss Nordin!” The host’s voice broke in over the speakers, cheerful and upbeat. “I believe I called for Brandon Franz, not Valerie Nordin. Quite a difference in names there, wouldn’t you say?” He let out a chuckle, shaking his head in mock bewilderment. “But please, take your seat. I assure you, you’ll get your chance to dazzle us!”

Valerie sat back down, her mouth pressed into a thin line, but her eyes shot daggers in Anderson’s direction. He grinned, flashing her an exaggerated, mocking thumbs-up before turning back to his seat, the other students snickering along with him.

“Now, the Great Citizens of Astoria, give it up for our next challenger, Brandon Franz!” the host boomed, his voice amplified to thunderous applause.

—

The show continued, as student after student took on the gauntlet. Some stumbled in comically disastrous ways—one poor student barely made it out of the trapping tunnel with a singed suit and a dazed expression, earning gasps and laughter from the crowd. Others managed with competent skill, their efforts rewarded with polite applause, but none were breaking any records or setting the stadium on fire with excitement.

—

From the shadows of the arena, two figures observed the spectacle with veiled interest.

“Bit pathetic, don’t you think?” the woman muttered, crossing her arms. “If it weren’t for the Gods up there watching, we’d be done and dusted with this little game by now.” She glanced sideways at the man beside her. “What’s the plan, boss?”

He gave a slow, calculated smile, his eyes still fixed on the arena. “Begin the preparations. Call HQ—have them send in the Beasts, but keep them on standby. The Gods are bored, and if these performances keep dragging, they’ll lose interest and leave. Our agent will make sure the professors will keep showcasing the… less impressive talents.”

“What about Kohn?” she asked, lowering her voice.

“No word yet, but no need to worry,” he replied smoothly. “Let’s see if the access codes Thomson gave us work first.”

—

In the VIP section, Thor and Loki were growing visibly restless. Thor’s fingers drummed impatiently on the armrest of his chair, and every so often he shot a glare at his brother.

“Brother,” Thor finally rumbled, leaning forward, “is this one of your pranks? This is not amusing in the slightest. You told me we’d witness something entertaining.”

“Patience, Brother,” Loki replied with a sly grin, leaning back with far too much ease. “Mortals have a way of saving their best for last. You’ll love it when the time comes, I promise.”

Thor’s gaze narrowed, unimpressed. “I’ll give you twenty minutes, no more. And if you waste my time, Loki—”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Oh, it won’t take that long,” Loki interrupted, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Do you like fire shows, by any chance?”

Thor’s eyes sparked with interest despite himself. “You know I have always enjoyed a magnificent fire, Brother.”

Loki smirked, his fingers steepled together as he watched the field. “Then sit tight. Our next contender is bound to give you one.”

“Mortal, step forward!” Loki’s voice echoed with a chilling authority.

Dean Thorne scrambled to his feet, bowing low. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“My brother grows bored.” Loki waved a hand dismissively toward Thor, who was now visibly unimpressed. “Send in Kian Drexlers. He wants something... spectacular.”

Dean Thorne blanched, glancing nervously at the other professors, who had all gone very still, avoiding eye contact. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but… our top ten students are to be showcased later. Perhaps—”

Loki’s eyes flashed dangerously, and with a flick of his fingers, a dark energy snaked out, wrapping around the Dean in shadowy chains and lifting him into the air. Dean Thorne gasped, his limbs paralyzed.

“Are you defying me, mortal?” Loki’s voice was a silk-wrapped blade.

“Please, Your Highness!” Dean Thorne’s voice quivered. “If I may suggest—another student, who is equally promising. I swear she’ll keep your brother entertained. She’s… she’s very talented.”

Loki held him there for a beat, the shadows twisting and tightening as if savoring the Dean’s panic. Then, after a long, tense moment, he released him, letting him drop unceremoniously to the floor.

“Alright,” Loki said slowly, a wicked smile forming on his lips. “But if you’ve lied to me, mortal, you’ll regret it.”

“I would never dare, Your Highness,” Dean Thorne stammered, bowing again, his face pale as he backed away. He shot a quick glance at the announcer, who nodded.

The moment the next student cleared the final trial, the host’s voice filled the arena. “Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to our next challenger… Fiona Allen!”

Back in the student section, Fiona’s eyes went wide. She turned to Valerie and Kian, her voice barely a whisper. “They’re calling me?”

“Show them what you’re made of, Miss Allen,” Kian said, his face breaking into a proud smile.

“You got this, girl!” Valerie gave her a nudge, grinning.

With one last look at her friends, Fiona took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped into the arena.

—

“Ready… set… go!” the host shouted.

In a blink, Fiona took off, her figure a mere blur as she hit full speed. The machines flared to life, wind blades slicing through the air and flamethrowers sparking up to test her agility. But just as the first blade swung, Fiona vanished.

“What in the world?!” the host shouted, feigning surprise as the audience gasped.

The crowd watched, puzzled, until Fiona reappeared just inches from the finish line, crossing it effortlessly in under three seconds.

“The record has just been broken, everybody!” The host’s voice boomed over the applause. “What an opener! She didn’t just dodge those traps—she outsmarted the system itself!”

Fiona barely took a breath before darting into the trapping tunnel. This time, the audience was hushed, eyes glued to the screens as they tracked her movements through the maze of pressure plates, swinging axes, and darting arrows. Her steps were nimble and graceful, weaving between traps with ease. After a moment, her eyes narrowed, and her pace picked up.

“She’s figured it out, folks! She’s recognized the pattern!” the host exclaimed, leaning over his microphone. “Look at that mind at work, tracking each trap like it’s child’s play! She’s through in a staggering six seconds!”

Kian leaned forward, eyes wide. “She’s unstoppable.”

Valerie chuckled, crossing her arms with a smirk. “That’s my girl.”

The crowd erupted in cheers as Fiona exited the tunnel, but she barely had time to revel in the applause before moving on to the next station—the punching wall.

She rolled her shoulders, glancing back at her friends. Kian gave her a thumbs-up, while Valerie shouted, “Knock it out, Fiona!”

Fiona took a deep breath, focused, and threw a punch. The wall lit up with a score of 40 out of 100.

“Not the highest punch we’ve seen, but certainly nothing to scoff at!” the host commented with enthusiasm. “That’s the strength of someone who knows how to stay out of harm’s way and deliver a punch when it counts!”

Valerie whispered to Kian, grinning, “She may not have my strength, but she’s got finesse.”

Kian nodded, his admiration obvious. “She’s doing amazing.”

Fiona shook out her hand and braced herself for the thunder cannon. The device crackled to life, blue lightning arcing and gathering energy. She took her stance, steady and grounded, her muscles tensing.

“Hang in there, Fiona!” Valerie whispered, eyes locked on her friend.

The cannon fired, a fierce surge of electricity slamming into her. Fiona gritted her teeth, withstanding the blast with visible effort, her muscles straining as she held her ground. The energy subsided, and the score popped up—60 out of 100.

“Now that’s what I call resilience!” The host shouted. “A solid performance against one of our most intense challenges!”

Valerie and Kian cheered, clapping and whistling. “Way to go, Fi!” Valerie shouted, pride shining in her eyes. “Tough as nails!”

Finally, Fiona approached the power showdown: the black stone. She stared at it, knowing full well that her ability wasn’t designed for brute-force displays. With a quick inhale, she focused, reaching into her invisibility, a subtle energy pulsing as she raised her hand toward the stone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Fiona Allen’s final score depends on this moment!” the host announced, building up the tension.

She released her power, but the effect on the stone was minimal. The score lit up—30 out of 100. A small gasp rippled through the audience.

Kian winced sympathetically. “Not really fair, is it?”

Valerie shrugged, leaning back in her seat. “Well, she did great. It’s not always about power, you know.”

The host chimed in with an upbeat tone, refusing to let the energy falter. “Well, folks, strength and power come in all forms! Fiona Allen here might not have maxed the numbers, but she’s shown agility, intelligence, and determination—and that, my friends, is what makes a real hero!”

Fiona walked back to her seat, catching her friends’ smiles as they stood to clap for her. She gave them a sheepish grin, muttering, “Guess I’ll need more than invisibility tricks next time.”

Valerie laughed, clapping her on the back. “Nah, you nailed it! Let them wonder what else you’re capable of.”

—

Fiona Allen

Lvl: 1

Strength: 40/50

Speed: 90/100

Agility: 95/100

Intelligence: 80/100

Durability: 60/60

Power output: 30/40

—

“It was magnificent, Brother! She lacked strength but was cunning, smart. She reminded me of you when you were younger!” Thor bellowed, his laughter echoing through the VIP section. He clapped Loki on the back, nearly tipping over his goblet of wine.

Loki smirked, leaning back in his ornate chair. “Yes… magnificent indeed,” he said, a hint of intrigue glinting in his sharp eyes. His fingers drummed lightly on the armrest, his mind clearly working through some devious thought.

The dean, still trembling from his earlier encounter with Loki’s wrath, dared to step forward. “I—is it to your liking, my lord?” he asked cautiously, bowing deeply.

Loki’s gaze shifted lazily to the dean, his smirk growing into something sharper. “Yes, mortal. You’ve done well… for once.” He paused, his tone softening, but his words laced with authority. “I want to speak with her. Have her brought here after the show.”

The dean swallowed hard, glancing briefly at Thor, who was too busy sipping his drink to notice. “Of course, your highness. It will be done immediately after the event,” he said, bowing again.

Thor chuckled, nudging Loki. “You always did have a soft spot for the clever ones, Brother. Try not to frighten her too much when she comes.”

Loki scoffed, his mischievous grin returning. “Oh, I intend no harm… yet. I simply find her... intriguing. Cunning minds like hers are rare in this crowd of muscle heads.”

Thor laughed again, loud and boisterous. “Cunning minds, you say? I suppose that’s why you’ve always liked mortals. They remind you of your own wit.”

Loki gave an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Brother. Let’s go with that.” His gaze drifted back to the arena below, locking onto Fiona as she rejoined her group. His grin widened.

“Let the show continue, mortals!” Loki said, raising his hand theatrically, the energy in the air seeming to shift. “Impress us—or bore us at your own peril.”

Fiona Allen, oblivious to the divine interest she had sparked, sat back in her seat, exchanging celebratory high-fives with Valerie and Kian, unaware of what awaited her once the show was over.