The moment we stepped inside, it was as if we had walked into a nightmare come to life.

The air was thick with the stench of decay—so foul it clung to your lungs and made every breath feel like an assault. The building reeked of every conceivable bodily fluid, mixing with the odor of decomposing animal carcasses and festering waste.

It was as though this place had absorbed the filth of every living creature that had ever passed through it, marinating in rot and despair.

We shoved our way through heaps of discarded trash, debris, and God knows what else, the floor crunching underfoot. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of scurrying rats echoed through the halls. Every step we took brought us deeper into what felt like the belly of a grotesque beast, until we reached the back of the building—where, to our misfortune, the stench only grew stronger.

I pinched my nose tightly. “How do you even know about this place?” I asked, my voice distorted as I struggled to speak through the blockage in my nostrils.

Azeem was unfazed, his voice as calm as ever. “Grand-Elder told me about this spot. One of our own has been living here for a while. Said if we ever needed help, this is where we should go.”

I snorted, half in disbelief. “If you know this person, then why did you say, ‘If anyone asks, we’ll just tell them you lost it’? Actually that doesn’t make sense anyway, I mean, come on, how do you even lose something surgically attached to your arm?”

He shot me a sideways glance, unimpressed with my sarcasm. “You ask too many questions.”

We found ourselves standing in front of what looked like a reception desk that had been through hell and back. The wood was warped and stained in shades of yellow and green, an ugly little plant wilting on top as if it, too, had given up on life. There was no bell or anything remotely resembling a way to signal someone, so Azeem, slammed his hand down on the desk.

Heavy footsteps reverberated from somewhere beyond the room, and a small door we hadn’t noticed before creaked open. The man who emerged was something to behold. Short, fat, with bulbous, bloodshot eyes and an ill-fitting shirt that refused to stay down over his belly, he looked like a caricature of someone trying to impersonate a human being.

He climbed onto a chair with surprising agility, pulling down his shirt one more time before flashing us a crooked, green-tinged smile.

“The Grand-Elder sent us,” Azeem said, not wasting any time.

The smile vanished from the man’s face like a mask falling off. Without a word, he hopped down from the chair, and before we knew it, his entire appearance shifted. He straightened up, limbs lengthening and thinning as his round, cartoonish frame gave way to something far more... intimidating. His transformation was complete in seconds, leaving behind a tall, muscular man with sharp, almond-shaped eyes, long messy hair, and a commanding presence that none of us could ignore.

Kentaro and I stood dumbfounded, while Azeem, apparently expecting this, followed the man without a second thought. We hurried to keep up, exchanging looks of disbelief.

As soon as we crossed the threshold, it was as if we’d entered a different dimension. Gone was the filthy hovel we had trudged through, replaced by a sleek, pristine laboratory. The contrast was jarring. The walls were a blinding white, smooth and unblemished, almost glowing under the bright, clinical lights. High-tech equipment hummed quietly around us, so advanced it looked like it belonged in some top-secret government facility, not the dump we had just trudged through.

Metal tables lined the room, each one meticulously organized with tools and gadgets far beyond my comprehension. To one side, transparent containers held shimmering liquids, the contents swirling as if alive. There were limbs—human-looking, but somehow... off—hanging in glass tubes. They looked so real, but the sheer number of them made it clear that these weren’t real people’s arms. No, they were something else, synthetic perhaps, but still unnerving in their perfection.

“What do you need?” the man asked casually, as if he wasn’t standing in what looked like an illegal cybernetics lab. He tied his long hair back into a neat bun before spinning around to face us, waiting.

“A tenus screen,” Azeem started, but I quickly interrupted.

“We need two tenus,” I corrected, earning a glare from him. “Don’t look at me like that. Sure, we might be able to share one on the way to the site, but what about afterward? You really think no one’s going to question why Kentaro doesn’t have one?”

Azeem’s glare faded into reluctant acceptance, while Kentaro, who hadn’t said much during this entire ordeal, lowered his gaze, clearly embarrassed. I was surrounded by idiots.

The man eyed us carefully. “You’re not from the village, are you?”

“No,” I replied, too tired to play games.

He glanced between Azeem and Kentaro, but didn’t push further. “Fine. You two, sit over there.” He pointed toward the table where the artificial limbs were being assembled. My stomach churned at the sight.

With a groan, we sat down, trying our best to avoid looking at the disembodied limbs beside us. The man started with me first, his movements quick and precise. “Looks like you’ve had one before,” he noted. “This will be easier.”

For a brief, fleeting moment, I thought maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Then, he grinned. “Clench your teeth.”

“Clench my wha—ARGH!”

⥁

I winced as I massaged my sore arm. There had been no delicate procedure, no finesse. Just one quick, brutal motion, and the screen was now painfully attached to my skin, bonded by sheer force. Kentaro hadn’t fared any better. The poor guy actually cried, though he swore to murder me in my sleep if I ever told anyone about it. As if that were a threat I took seriously. Who was I going to tell, anyway?

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

After an agonizing hour, the man finally allowed us to stand. The screens seemed to be attached properly now, though I tested mine several times just to make sure it wouldn’t fall off. We swung our arms, shook them, did everything short of ripping the damn things off, but they stayed.

“The Grand-Elder will cover the bill,” the man said with a stretch, his hair falling back out of its bun. Azeem gave him a quick nod of acknowledgment.

“What now?” I asked, more than ready to leave this weird nightmare behind.

“Open your screen and search for the academy’s—wait, never mind.” Kentaro snatched my arm before I could even react, fiddling with the tenus screen. In seconds, a white box appeared on the screen, reading: TRANSPORT NOW.

“I used my access code for both of us. Hopefully, it works,” Kentaro said.

“I wish you luck,” Azeem added, his words more for Kentaro than for me.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever was coming next. I had no idea what this academy was really like or what was waiting for me there, but one thing was clear—I had to move forward. Without another thought, I pressed the box on the screen.

A strange sensation swept over me as my body began to dematerialize. Looking over at Kentaro, who was undergoing the same process, I tried to relax. I could do this.

⥁

This. This was beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

The moment my feet hit the ground, I was engulfed by the sheer majesty of the academy. The place wasn't just enormous—it defied belief, a monumental masterpiece that made even the grandest of castles seem small in comparison.

Towering walls reached skyward, so high they vanished into the misty horizon, their spires seemingly lost among the clouds. The structure itself was an awe-inspiring blend of two worlds: medieval grandeur and futuristic elegance. It felt as if time itself had bent and twisted to create something that belonged to neither the past nor the future, but somewhere impossibly in between.

The walls, immense and smooth, were carved from stone so polished it gleamed in the soft, ambient light. Intricate runes spiraled across the surface, glowing faintly with an energy that seemed to hum in my bones, vibrating with an ancient, powerful magic. These symbols of power and knowledge were beyond my comprehension, yet their presence was undeniable, as if they themselves were alive, watching and waiting. Winding through the stone were sleek, metallic beams—silver veins running like lifeblood through the structure, connecting everything in perfect harmony.

My gaze traveled up to the windows, enormous stained-glass works of art that towered above. Each one depicted epic scenes—battles fought between titans, otherworldly rituals, and cosmic events beyond imagination. The vibrant colors spilled into the courtyard, painting the ground with hues of ruby, emerald, and sapphire as sunlight streamed through the windows, casting an ethereal glow on everything it touched.

I could feel the weight of history pressing down on me, as though every inch of this place was saturated with secrets and untold power. How long had this academy stood here? How many generations had passed through its colossal gates?

Speaking of the gates, they were a sight unto themselves. Massive, towering slabs of engraved metal and stone, they seemed built to withstand the force of entire armies. Each door was a work of art—arcane symbols swirling across their surface, shimmering with intricate gilded patterns.

Even fully open, they loomed above, dwarfing everyone who passed beneath them. I craned my neck to take it all in, trying to understand how something so massive could be so flawlessly detailed, every inch a testament to craftsmanship and magic intertwined.

The courtyard, though equally as extravagant, felt like an oasis of unnatural beauty in the midst of this overwhelming fortress. The marble paths were so smooth they almost reflected the sky, winding through gardens of surreal flora. Trees with luminescent leaves swayed ever so gently, despite the complete absence of any breeze.

Flowers bloomed in shades of color that seemed almost impossible, as if nature had been manipulated here to create perfection. Here and there, fountains bubbled and flowed, but not in any conventional sense. Water floated in suspended globes, shimmering in the air before cascading down in rhythmic bursts, defying gravity as though the rules of the world had been rewritten just for this place.

As I wandered through, I passed statues that lined the paths, each one more imposing and lifelike than the last. Scholars and warriors stood frozen in time, their expressions captured so vividly it was almost unsettling. I half expected them to turn their heads and watch me as I passed by.

The detail was immaculate—their stone robes seemed to ripple as though caught in a gust of wind, and their gazes were sharp, filled with an intensity that felt almost human. And the size… they towered over me, three times my height, casting long shadows across the gleaming marble ground.

Students moved about the courtyard, their murmurs a soft backdrop to the overwhelming grandeur around me. They were small, insignificant in comparison to the scale of this place. Even their colorful robes seemed like nothing more than scattered specks of color against the academy’s grandeur. I could hear their voices faintly, echoing off the impossibly tall walls, but none of it registered. I was too captivated, too overwhelmed by everything around me. Every stone, every statue, every inch of this academy was a reminder of just how small I was—how insignificant, in the face of something so ancient, so powerful.

And then I saw them—the banners. Enormous, regal banners of deep indigo and shimmering gold hanging from the battlements far above. They fluttered gently, despite the lack of wind, each one bearing a sigil I couldn’t begin to decipher. But their presence alone radiated authority and power, as though they belonged to a world where magic and might ruled. The very air seemed to bend to the will of this place, and the banners stood as symbols of the authority that governed it.

I was frozen, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of it all. This place… it wasn’t just an academy. It was something far more—a monument to power, knowledge, and the centuries of secrets that lived within its walls. It was as if I had stumbled into the heart of something ancient, something that had shaped the world in ways I could barely fathom. How was I, a stranger with no memories, supposed to survive in a place like this?

Suddenly, a hand yanked me by the collar, snapping me out of my daze. “Where are you wandering off to? The exam’s starting over there.”

Kentaro’s grip was firm as he dragged me toward a crowd gathered at the far end of the courtyard. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the towering spires behind me. This place was unreal. I had to get in. Somehow, I had to be a part of this.

We joined the back of the crowd, our eyes fixated on a marble podium in front of us. The number of people was impossible to gauge from where we stood, but there was a quiet tension in the air. Seconds later, a figure descended from above, floating effortlessly to stand before us.

She was an older woman, her short purple hair gleaming in the sunlight. Her face was lined with age, but her eyes were sharp, almost predatory. She wore a long, brown robe adorned with strange symbols that glowed faintly as she surveyed the group.

“Greetings,” she began, her voice clear and commanding. “It’s wonderful to see you all, I am the dean of the Terrakis Academy of Academis Heartiles, and I would love to further introduce myself, but I’m afraid we have no time for pleasantries, so I will keep this simple. Look to your right.”

The crowd shifted as we all turned.

“Now look to your left.”

I glanced at the people beside me—strangers, all with the same focused expressions.

“You’ve just seen the faces of your competitors. You will all fight until ten of you remain. I wish you luck.”

And just like that, she vanished.

Her words barely had time to sink in before chaos erupted. Fists flew, bodies clashed, and within seconds, the courtyard had transformed into a battlefield. There was no hesitation, no mercy.

There was something seriously wrong with this place.