"You all might want to get up," said Milvus, one of his tentacles hitting a button under the teacher's desk.

Alwin's chair and table began to jitter and quiver before they started to descend into the ground. It wasn't only his desk as all the other monsters were frantically looking around wondering why they were sinking into the floor. As curious as he was about the fate of the furniture, being eaten by the ground wasn't part of his bucket list. If anything it was on the opposite of that list, it was on the 'tekcub' list.

Alwin tumbled off his chair in perfect sync with the rest of the students, like a choreographed routine they hadn't practiced for. The instant their behinds left the seats, the platforms holding up the desks and chairs immediately dropped down into the ground. The tiles shuffled over, closing up the holes with a casual nonchalance. In no time, the room looked as if it had always been a barren wasteland of learning, save for the teacher’s desk standing tall and smug, the only survivor of the great furniture purge.

Alwin blinked rapidly, half-expecting to wake up from some bizarre dream. But no, his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. His brain scrambled to catch up. What were the mechanisms behind the furniture disappearing into the ground? How did the tiles move to cover the hole? Alwin's head buzzed with a million questions, each one more baffling than the last. But before he could voice a single one, Milvus chimed in.

"All of those spectating stick to the walls, and those participating try not to get carried away. I'll still be here to make sure nothing goes wrong, but try your best to make sure I don't have to step in. Now, let's get started."

Well, that didn't answer any of his questions, but he didn't have a choice other than to leave it at that. It was obvious that Milvus had no plans to explain the miracle of technology that occurred in the classroom just moments ago. Instead, his focus was laser-locked on the upcoming battle.

Alwin stuck close to the wall with Gus and Uchronia flanking him like a mismatched security detail. Two monsters proceeded to the center of the room, ready to throw down against each other. Apparently, Milvus had announced the pairings earlier, but Alwin had been too busy playing detective, obsessing over the mystery of the vanishing furniture to catch a single word the teacher had said. That's what he guessed anyway.

"Remember to announce your names and Core Skills," said Milvus.

The first monster, a Dark Slime, spoke up, "You guys can call me Clavis and my Core Skill is called Lockpick."

The second monster, a Leafling, spoke next, "My name is Phyll, and my skill is called Solar Powered."

Solar Powered? Lockpick? Maybe his devolution skill didn't seem that useless after all. One guy's strongest ability was unlocking doors while the other was nothing more than a glorified houseplant. Maybe Bion had a dud skill too. Did Uchronia and Gus have a lame skill? Maybe he should speculate about it after the fight, and not during.

"Are you guys ready?" asked Milvus.

"Yes, sir," Both monsters replied in unison.

"Fight!"

The moment Milvus gave the word, both monsters began to circle each other. Neither seemed keen on making the first move, and it quickly turned into a ridiculous game of monster ring-around-the-rosy. After what felt like an eternity of hopping and shuffling, Clavis the Dark Slime finally decided enough was enough and lunged forward, breaking the awkward dance.

"Lockpick!" yelled Clavis.

A keyhole manifested on Phyll's body, right above his head, accompanied by a tension wrench and a pick. Despite the tools jutting out of his head, Phyll seemed fine. His gaze remained fixed on Clavis, and he didn't seem to be in any pain. If anything he looked annoyed.

"You're lucky I can't use my Core Skill inside here," said Phyll.

Phyll charged at his opponent as the lockpick began to work on opening his keyhole. The tension wrench and pick worked tirelessly as if they were in a trance. With every turn, the pins clicked into place.

"Thorny Leaf," Phyll yelled out, a layer of thorns materialized over his leafy tail. With a swipe, his newly armed tail lashed out at Clavis.

Not to be outdone, Clavis summoned a shadowy aura that wrapped around him like an inky cloak. "Dark Tackle!" he bellowed, charging at Phyll.

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The pair launched into a furious exchange of blows. Phyll's Thorny Leaf whipped through the air, each swipe aimed to shred Clavis, while Clavis countered with relentless Dark Tackles, his shadowy aura crashing against Phyll's thorny tail. The sounds of the attacks colliding resounded through the air. Neither party relented in their assault, and the class watched in awe.

While they currently seemed to be at a stalemate, that couldn't be further from the truth. Clavis' lock pick was still hard at work, the soft clicks of pins falling into place echoing with each turn. Phyll was on borrowed time, his fate ticking away with every second. The keyhole above his head inched closer to being unlocked, and the room buzzed with tension. No one knew what would happen once it did, no one except Clavis.

Alwin's mind raced with speculation about what the skill was about to unleash. There were countless possibilities. Well, by countless, he meant just one. The moment the lockpick accomplished its task, Phyll's head would spring open like a ghastly jack-in-the-box, revealing its contents for all to see. It was a horrifying outcome, but it was also the most reasonable outcome, at least to him.

Phyll and Clavis continued to trade blows, Thorny Leaf met Dark Tackle in a flurry of motion, but then, amid the chaos, a distinctive click cut through the noise. The final pin had fallen into place. As it made a full rotation, the keyhole, along with the protruding lockpick and wrench, vanished from Phyll’s leafy form. The room fell silent, the sudden absence of the bizarre hardware leaving everyone wide-eyed and on edge, wondering what would happen next.

But nothing happened.

Phyll had a look of triumph on his face. "Looks like I was worried about nothing."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," said Clavis.

Alwin was disappointed. As twisted as it sounded, he was looking forward to Phyll's head popping open. He'd imagined a ridiculous flower springing out or something ludicrous like that.

Clavis was eerily calm for someone whose plan had just failed. Unless the plan didn't fail and everything was going according to plan. So what was the plan? Alwin tried to scratch his head, but the lack of heads deterred him from doing so. Instead, he used his imagination to conjure up an imaginary hand to scratch his imaginary head.

"Thorny Leaf!"

"Dark Tackle!"

The pair clashed again, but this time the vibe was entirely different. Before, the pair were on equal footing. They had countered and blocked all of each other's attacks, but now the tables had turned. Clavis was able to hop over Phyll's swipes like a demented kangaroo and ducked under them with the grace of a limbo champion. When his Dark Tackle collided with Phyll’s Thorny Leaf, it sent Phyll stumbling backward, flailing like a leaf in a windstorm. Something had changed.

"What did you do to me?" Phyll shouted.

"I locked up your strength," said Clavis.

Weren't lockpicks supposed to unlock things, not lock them back up? When he noticed the sudden shift in the battle, he’d guessed Clavis had unlocked some hidden weak point on Phyll or maybe exposed his vulnerabilities, but locking things up was never one of his guesses.

"Is that why I feel so weak?”

Clavis continued to attack Phyll, crashing into Phyll with every yell of Dark Tackle. Meanwhile, Phyll, on the other hand, was in dire straits. His once mighty tail swipes had turned into feeble flails, barely enough to tickle Clavis. The thorns on his tail had long disappeared, leaving him looking more like a droopy houseplant than a fierce combatant. Phyll wheezed and wobbled, struggling to even stand.

Sensing victory, Clavis stepped forward with a theatrical flair, ready to deliver his grand finisher. He puffed out his chest, took a deep breath, and with the gusto of an opera singer hitting a high note, bellowed, "Dark Tackle!"

A dark aura spiraled around Clavis' already shadowy figure, making him look like a storm cloud about to rain slime instead of water. Clavis lunged forward at his opponent, sending Phyll flying across the room. He crashed into the wall and then slid down to the floor in a crumpled heap.

"Winner! Clavis, the Dark Slime," announced Milvus.

"It's not fair. I can't use my Core Skill inside this classroom," Phyll groaned as he struggled to get up.

"Life is never fair, and those humans will use every means necessary to gain the upper hand. Take this as an important lesson," Milvus lectured.

"Fine," Phyll grumbled, before hopping back to his friends.

"Good fight, Phyll!" shouted Clavis from across the room, before making his way back to his group of friends.

What sort of ability was Phyll’s Core Skill, anyway? If Clavis' Lockpick ability was anything to go by, Alwin’s mind wandered to absurd possibilities. Maybe Phyll’s Solar Powered skill had nothing to do with being powered by the sun. Perhaps he was the one powering the sun? Whatever that meant, Alwin wasn’t sure, but he knew he’d have to keep an eye out for the guy the next time they went outside.

"Next pair up," said Milvus.

Who could the next pair be? Alwin racked his brain, regretting not paying attention when Milvus announced the pairings. He should have asked Uchronia and Gus afterward, but the fight had been too entertaining, even if it was mostly just two monsters hurling Dark Tackle and Thorny Leaf at each other.

"Hey, who's up next?" asked Alwin.

Uchronia and Gus looked at each other, before turning to face Alwin.

"Us," they said in unison. Without another word, they moved to the center of the classroom.

His first two friends in the world, now forced to fight each other. Well, this should be entertaining.