“Lua!” A young Quiton ran through the streets, yelling his sister's name. His shirt was torn at places, bloodied with red that was not his at sleeves and collar.

Mushrooms of debris erupted across the city. Black and grey smoke rose from every other corner, twisting into an onyx cloud that hung above, blotting out the light of the Twins. The city was screaming as the unspawns – ethereal creatures from the world between worlds – rampaged through.

“Quin?” a feeble voice shook around the corner.

He rushed past the alley and found his sister huddled around the nook, tears streaming down her eyes. Quickly, he pulled her to her feet and gave a quick hug of relief.

“We need to go,” he warned. “Everyone's running to the castle grounds.”

“W-Where's mom and dad?” she sobbed.

He did not answer. Instead, he held her at arm's length to look her in the eyes. “We have to go,” he insisted.

She sniffed through soaked eyes and gave a apprehensive nod. He took her hand and ran, guiding her through the chaotic cityscape. Screams erupted from the market and a wall of lava exploded out into the sky from the far central. The Clovers were fighting in the square and he decided not to be anywhere near the battle. Instead, he circled around the industrial district, footsteps echoing into the caverns of abandoned workshops and emptied shophouses.

“Look! Kids!”

The siblings turned to see a group of people across the street who yelled for them to follow. They did, happy to once again be amongst the living. The group ran through the last section of the industrial area. Then, one of the leading man was swept off his feet and flung across and into the wall, where he slumped do the ground, unmoving safe for the flow of blood.

Some screamed. But everyone panicked.

The unspawns were sheer creatures, near transparent in nature. It was as if glass had taken a liquid form and morphed into distorted beings. The one that stood before them was as large as a house and had what seemed to be spider-like legs that shifted between the numbers of them from dozens to more than enough. A large hammer-shaped arm and a arcing torso defined its body. Like the rest of its species, it made no sound in its movements safe for the disturbance of physical matter.

The group started to retreat, running away from the beast. Quin turned to follow but only saw another mob of unspawns lumbering in from behind.

He felt his right shoulder heat up and saw the light emitting through his torn clothes as he charged a spell. It seemed the only way to go was through. He refused to allow anything to happen to his sister.

He held out his hand in preparation to attack. At that moment, a barrage of white energy shot down from above at an angle, blasting the front-most creature like pattering rain in a thunderstorm, digging a dent into the streets with micro explosions that rocked their eardrums.

Lua screamed and Quinton covered her from the blast. By the time the dust had settled, the unspawn that stood in their way had been vaporized, leaving a clear path forward over the shelled street. Standing on the rooftop opposite, a short-haired brunette with a bow stood at the ready.

The woman shouted, “Quickly! Run! I'll cover your retreat.”

The twins and the survivors made little effort to hide their thanks as they made a dash for it. Quinton slowed behind, turning to watch their saviour engage the attacking horde. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the faint distortion of light of an unspawn sneaking up behind the woman. He stopped running, turned, and threw the ball of energy he had been charging at the creature. The missile arced across the air before exploding in the face of the beast, dealing not enough damage but more than enough distraction.

The woman turned at the blast. At first disoriented, she quickly gained composure of the situation. From her back, she drew an energy dagger and proceeded to dice the ambusher with lightning steps and furious flurries of cuts.

As the creature dissipated, she crossed eyes with Quinton. She gave a smile and a nod of thanks before running off out of sight across the rooftops, her rain of energy arrows bombarding the enemies from where unseen.

***

Not everyone was born to play the part of the hero, and Quinton knew that fact innately. He had never wanted to be the main star in the play. Even as a child, he preferred to be the tree, or servant sent to fetch the sword for the knight. To him, those were the real stars, for they were the characters that everyone could relate to and needed. The background and the passerbys that literally covered the world and made it spin.

The afternoon spring was a comfortable cooling warm, with the light of the Twins serenading the students in heat. Quinton stirred out of the nap he had. The sound of clashing weapons rang throughout the stadium. To their left, Classes A and B sat in their part of the stands. On the field itself, Two figures duelled on the holographic projection battlefield.

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He checked the sheen of his sword for the umpteenth time that day, drawing it from its scabbard and sheathing it back again. He wanted to be like his weapons. The round shield named Passerbys which doubled as his scabbard, and the katana called Tree that was kept within, a protector of person and blade. He would support from the back, and do his part to push forward the true heroes. In his eyes, that was his sister, and to an extend, the rest of his class.

Shichi Katayagi sat beside him on the bleachers, the latter's long artillery scythe leaning against his shoulder. Out of their entire class, Shichi and Quinton had the least amount of modifications made to their school dressing. Aside from leaving his black shirt unbuttoned, his inner maroon shirt untucked, and a silver chain dangling out of his pants pocket, Shichi wore the standard school uniform with just his personality showing. His onyx hair was long and unkempt, though not out of laziness, but from an acquired dejection. Quinton knew that like himself, Shichi also wanted normalcy, but had never managed to achieve it. And despite always showing himself as carefree, Quinton knew his friend never really got over the rejection from society.

Shichi asked, “You sure you want me to be on your team? Sounds like you've staked quite a bit on it.”

From the far end of their bench, Shjacky had caught sight of Quinton's nap. She playfully pulled her eyes open with her fingers. Wake up! He visualized her saying.

“Yes,” Quinton replied to Shichi. “You and me are gonna do this. You know you want to.”

Shichi laughed. “Yes. I really, really want to. Maybe we can rub their faces in the dirt after the match. Literally in the dirt. Alright. I have your back.”

They bumped fists to seal the deal.

The sparring match ended, with Class A's fighter claiming the win against Class B's. The course resettled itself, the cyan holograms vanishing from the courts, leaving two sets of empty stone floors in the middle of a grassy field. The stone courts had eight large crystals at each corners, all glowing the same gentle cyan of the holograms.

Rehiy, who had been standing at the side of the field with one of the two crystal operators, stepped forward and said in a booming voice, “Alright. It seems we have enough energy in the crystals for one more fight. Let's have paired combat. Class A against Class C. Two volunteers.”

Quinton confidently got to his feet while Shichi grunted to stand. They looked over their shoulders and watched as Shilla and Dolf stood from Class A's side.

Quinton said, “Less talking.”

“More fighting,” Shichi finished.

They moved to the stairs and began their walk down. Shichi had his large scythe slung over his shoulder, a weapon so obstructive that Kingston had to dodge a slight at his head on the way down. Quinton took a look back to his class, crossing glance with his sister in the front row, who waved at him with a happy smile. He waved back before turning his attention to the battle ahead. The pair along with their opponents walked up to their instructors.

Rehiy said, “Rules are simple. Anything goes. We'll pull up the mag-net so you're free to use ammunitions. As usual, be careful of friendly fire. Understood?”

“Yes, Sik!”

The combatants took the stage. Class A took the far end of the left court, while Class C took the closer right. The eight crystals, each the size of a man, glowed cloud white before slowly turning cyan. A scan of light emitted from them, analysing the battlefield. Once done and a burst of murky white later, a mirror image of the opposing court was projected. Quinton looked to Shichi, who smiled. The latter took out a round for his cannon from a pack at the back of his waist and loaded it into his weapon in anxious anticipation.

Opposite them, Holo-Shilla wielded a two-pronged claymore, with the rear blade longer than the front. Dolf had a simple longbow with a quiver angled at the back of his waist. His right forearm was covered in a metal gauntlet.

A glow of teal white energy surrounded them as mana domes formed around each court to prevent their ammunitions from firing out of the battlefield.

The crystal operators stood one at the side of each court. Their hands placed on two poles that jutted out of the ground. One provided a constant source of seither to them, the other, receive the projection spell casted. Together, their visual of the fight would be sent to the projection crystal, which would replicate the battle down to the best of its entirety, including the force of impact up to but before the point of wounding. The technology was the most advance technology in the world, the prototypes only available to the Spellblade Academies of Rubicum and Aleynonlia.

Rehiy raised his hands. “Ready!”

They got into their stances. Quinton held his shield just slightly to the side, sword still sheathed within. Shichi moved to stand behind him. On the opposite end, Dolf notched an arrow and Shilla forgo defences and readied to charge.

“Set!”

Theatres had a tendency to prolong battles, dragging them into the dozens of minutes. But a real fight is rarely so attrition based. If two fighters of equal strength clashed head-to-head, there would be only 4 possible outcome. Victory, defeat, draw in life, and draw in death. If surviving is the goal, than there is only a 50% chance of success. And that chance decrease with each contact of weapons. By the fifth swing of a sword, there is just slightly higher than 3% chance of claiming the win.

“Fight!”

Dolf fired a quick shot at Quinton, twirls of fire wrapping around the arrowhead. Quinton pulled his shield up, covering himself from the punch of the arrow simulated by the hard-light hologram as holographic flames skittered across his sides. From the edge of his shield, he saw Shilla's sword raise into the air and he buckled himself into the ground, raising his shield further. She struck at the defender and he felt his feet slid back an inch from the force. Quickly he attempted to lower his shield only to find the prongs of her claymore caught on the protrusion of his scabbard, preventing him from moving. He looked up and Dolf had drawn another arrow.

From behind, Shichi's Scythe sliced sideways towards Shilla, forcing her to jump back and releasing her hold of his shield. The scythe hit the side of his shield and stopped with a forced clang. He pushed back, helping to aim the barrel of the artillery cannon at the tip of the scythe at Dolf. Even from the hologram, he could see Dolf taken a step aback. Shichi sucked an air of kiss and from the corner of his eyes, Quinton watch his partner pull the trigger.

The blast recoiled the scythe back into his shield and Quinton stood his ground despite another heavy impact. The cannon shell flew straight over the short distance and Dolf tried to duck out of the way. But the shell exploded his feet and they watched as Dolf's hologram disappeared as it was launched out of the boundary of the court.

Behind them, their classmates cheered.

Shilla's hologram turned its head and the pair turned to the real Shilla in her court glaring at them. “How?” she screamed. “How could you beat us?”

“I wondered that myself,” Quinton replied. “Since technically we are ranked by our tests, we should have lost to you, wholesale. Then I realized, you're just missing something. Something that I have in spades.”

He stood to gait and confidently strolled towards Shilla who began to back off. “What's that?” she asked.

“Purpose,” he answered.

“What nonsense is that?”

He stopped five steps away from her, just out of the reach of her weapon. He placed a hand on his katana and took a draw stance. Shilla held her claymore up defensively like a polearm.

Quinton explained, “You could have bullied me instead if you wanted your ego high. You could have even went after Shichi.”

“Hey!” his friend exclaimed.

Quinton ignored him. “But you went after my sister...”

He lowered his stance and sent a surge of energy through his weapon. He could feel the kinetic force of Dolf's arrow, Shilla's strike, and Shichi's recoil, all broiled up into pure energy. It was his personal special trick. To take kinetic energy done to his shield, store them, and unleash them back at his opponents.

“...and I will do anything to protect her.”

With his thumb, he pushed his katana out of its sheathe. With his right hand he drew his sword, a bright trace of swirling white energy following it out of its bastion. He swung it in an upwards arc. Shilla raised her weapon to block. But the wave of energy that fired from the blade slashed vertically tall, overwhelming her and cutting into the sky as if a stairway leading into greatness.