“So,” Jacky started, clapping her hands while looking around at the students, “Introduce yourselves. Just say your name, age, and level.”

There was a look of shock on most of the students’ faces. Why did they have to reveal something so intimate as their own level?

Thorne was quite the opposite. ‘That’s not too bad, ' he thought as he took in the shock and unwillingness his teammates radiated. ‘It's just a number after all.'

Still smiling, she pointed at the undead-looking sable spectrum cultivator. The cultivator looked at the lightning master, hesitant to start speaking. Unfortunately for him, she gestured with her arms for him to talk, and disrespecting such a powerful figure was not a wise decision.

“I am Moravian Uphle. I am thirty-two years old. I am level sixty-nine.” He spoke as he looked around at all his teammates.

“Stop!” Jacky yelled out, her hair buzzing. “Do not lie, young man.” She chastised, scrunching her face as she looked at Moravian.

Rasping, Moravian glared at Jacky and picked at his bony fingers but did comply; I am level sixty-three.” He huffed, not daring to look at anyone.

“Thank you, Moravian.” Jacky praised as she beamed a wide smile at Moravian.

‘He’s a strange one,’ Thorne thought as he glanced at Moravian; ‘not a smart idea to lie in front of a master.’

Jacky then pointed to the next student in the line of chairs, the rocky orange spectrum cultivator. “It's your turn, " she chattered.

The rocky cultivator shifted in their seat briefly before speaking in a low baritone voice: “Procka. Twenty-nine. Sixty-five.”

The room silenced for a second. Jacky cocked her ear at Procka, expecting more, but no more words were uttered from the rocky cultivator.

“Very good Procka. Now you.” She pointed. This time, it was Zal.

Nodding, Zal smiled wide, “Hello, everyone.” He said cheerily, “I am Zal Chorgrane, and I'm only twenty-two.” He grinned while holding his arms out wide, “And my level is, unfortunately, only a measly seventy.”

Moravian froze and glared with fury at Zal. Procka, the other cultivator who had already revealed her level-simply ignored him and stared blankly at the sand at her feet.

“Wonderful, Zal. Thank you.” Jacky chirped, “You next.”

The penultimate victim of Jacky’s introductory lesson was not Thorne. No, instead, it was the small blue-spectrum girl.

“I am Lyra of the galactic house, Valtear.” She spoke, her nose upturned as she met everyone's gaze with prejudice. I am nineteen years of age and am currently level seventy-two.” She placed heavy emphasis on the last word and glared fiercely at Zal. In response, he just smiled and waved.

Thorne was not bothered about her level or age; no, he was instead enraptured by her name. ‘Valtear…galactic house Valtear, where did I hear that from.’ Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to search his memories due to Jacky’s smiling figure pointing directly at him.

“I’m Thorne.” He started a blank expression covering his face. I’m… twenty-five now.” Thorne willed his system interface to manifest itself just to confirm his level. And I’m level seventy-three.”

Silence.

“Hahaha!” A noise broke through: laughter. Zal’s laughter, in particular. The man was near bawling out his eyes as he watched Lyra attempt to maintain her composure. She was looking at Thorne with widened eyes. Her seemingly permanent scowl had shifted to a frown of confusion rather than distaste.

Clapping, Jacky smiled wide at Thorne. “That’s very good, Thorne, but now that introductions are over, we should move on, " she said.

‘Clever,’ Thorne realized. She’s trying to cut away as much infighting as possible.’ He shrugged, ‘I guess that’s why she got the job as team mentor.’

“So, the next activity will be…” Jacky fluttered his hands in anticipation, “Mingling!’ she shouted, tossing her hands up in the air.

Confusion infected the faces of the five students upon hearing Jacky’s big reveal. ‘Mingling?’ Thorne thought, his face scrunching, ‘I thought this was team training.’

Luckily for Thorne, one other student had the same question. “Excuse me…Jacky?” A raspy voice rattled; it was Moravian.

“Yes?” Jacky answered, her smile ever-present as she looked at the sable cultivator.

“What purpose does…mingling serve?” Moravian asked, his hesitation clear as light.

“It's simple.” Jacky said, “You guys don’t know each other….at all. The five of you will be inseparable for months, maybe even years. You at least need to have a night out together before all that.”

“Sure,” Zal said, shrugging. The others seemed a bit more hesitant, though. Moravian was hugging his skeletal frame, while Lyra was glaring at Zal. Procka, as always, seemed not to be present in the conversation.

“All right then.” Jacky said, “Then go out and have some fun kids!”

Weirdly, Jacky then remained quiet. The only action she took was holding up her hand in an open palm, her five fingers spread wide.

Thorne leaned back in his chair as he waited for the drama to ensue. Of course, the drama was started by none other than Zal. “All right, everyone, " he said, smiling wide at the team. Let's go to a bar. How about that?”

“No!” Both Moravian and Lyra shouted simultaneously.

Jacky gestured for Lyra to explain herself first; “I cannot and will not associate myself in such an… unpleasant environment.” She huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at Zal.

“My kind is only barely accepted in those establishments,” Moravian said, not waiting for Jacky to queue him in. "I will not be going."

“All right, no bar then,” Jacky said as she put one finger down. “Just be warned, kids. If all my fingers go down, then I decide.” A creeping smile spread across her face as she emphasized her last words.

“Let us go to a museum,” Lyra said as she looked around at everyone. There will be no noise, so we can talk.” She glared at Zal, “And we will be able to learn and make connections with other admirers of the past.”

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“UHUHUHUH!” Zal nearly shouted as he glared at her. Are you going to pay for everyone? Do you know how expensive all the museums are? "

Lyra glared back, “The price is of no relevance to me.”

“Still don’t wanna go.” Zal said while crossing his arms, “Also, I know for a fact that I and at least one other person on this team don’t have the fancy clothes for a museum.”

Lyra swiveled her head, looking intently at all the students gathered, “Who?”

Both Thorne and Procka’s hands shot up almost immediately. Lyra scoffed at the two of them, but her displeasure did not stop Jacky from lowering another of her fingers.

Thorne felt a heavy nudge to his ribcage. “So, Thorne, what do you think we should do?” Zal asked.

“Tsk.” Thorne grimaced; of course, Zal had to do this. ‘Oh wait, this could be good; I’m low on meat.’

“How about we go hunting in the great wilderness.” He spoke.

“No,” Jacky said as she put her third finger down. "That is not mingling; that’s hunting.”

“God damnit,” Thorne muttered. ‘It looks like I might not get the food I need before the journey.’

Suddenly, Zal shot up out of his seat, “I have one!” he shouted, his thick, viscous voice seeming to rise in pitch due to his excitement. The proclamation was met by indifference from Thorne and Procka, while Lyra and Moravian were actively scowling at the amber cultivator.

“How about we visit one of those war simulators of a destroyed world.” He said, speaking fast. Confusion manifested on most of the student's faces. Even Jacky furrowed her brows at him. “It's sort of new, but essentially, it’s a virtual reality game where you go into a past war of one of the primitive, destroyed worlds and roleplay as a soldier or a general or something.”

Thorne’s eyes widened. ‘Could Earth be in this game?’ he pondered. 'Certainly not; it was only destroyed a few months ago.’

For the first time, the suggestion wasn’t met with open rejection, and instead, the seated students thought it over for a second.

“I am willing,” Lyra said, the first of them to agree to it.

“Me too.” Moravian followed. Procka shrugged and nodded, leaving only Thorne. ‘I really need to know if Earth is there,’ Thorne thought to himself. Thus, he—as well as the others—nodded along to Zal’s suggestion.

“Well, there we go.” Jacky exclaimed, clapping loudly, “Follow me.” She gestured I’ll lead you out of the academy, and then you all can be free to walk the city.”

Thorne walked out of the academy gates with the rest of the group. He still couldn’t get over the mystical vibrancy of the archway, which, with its mist-producing capabilities, showered the group in the sweet-smelling essence of the academy.

After Jacky left them, Zal took charge as the navigator. There wasn’t too much chatter as they walked, and Thorne primarily focused on taking in the grandeur scene of the city. He had been so isolated in the wilderness that he had not experienced the vibrant metropolis at all. It seemed it was finally the day when the ones above were allowing him a day off.

As the group strolled through the futuristic city, a symphony of sights, sounds, and sensations enveloped their senses. The cityscape soared above them, a marvel of architectural ingenuity and neon-lit grandeur. Towering skyscrapers pierced the sky, their sleek surfaces reflecting the vibrant glow of holographic billboards that plastered the walls. The air crackled with an electric hum, carrying the futuristic melodies of robotic street performers and the distant hum of flying vehicles.

The city's aroma was a medley of scents—a blend of obnoxious alcohols, the tantalizing aromas wafting from food stalls offering exotic culinary delights, and a subtle hint of ozone, A testament to the advanced technology pulsating through every vein of the metropolis.

As they ventured further, the streets thrummed beneath their feet with a gentle vibration, a testament to the city's pulsating energy. The smooth, polished pavement guided their steps, almost as if it had a mind of its own.

The night streets were full of bumbling foot traffic. There were so many different races of people, all speaking the same language and living in the same city. They wore technology on their body, be it a device in their ear or a screen on their wrist. Thorne was surprised by the lack of cultivators, however. Only a few pedestrians were adorned with the familiar spectrum crystal, and those who were cultivators were given extensive space; Thornes group was no exception.

Arriving at the entrance of the virtual reality game arcade, they stepped into a realm of pure sensory immersion. Thorne's eyes widened in awe when the group crossed the threshold. The air tingled with anticipation, charged with the hum of machinery and the soft murmur of excited chatter. The space felt expansive, with neon-lit walls pulsating with vibrant colors and intricate patterns that seemed to dance to an unheard rhythm.

Within the arcade, the cacophony of sounds filled their ears—a symphony of digital beeps, the clatter of pressed buttons, and enthusiastic players' laughter. The virtual reality booths beckoned with sleek design, each one a portal to otherworldly realms. Surrounded by a sea of screens, they caught glimpses of fantastical landscapes, futuristic cityscapes, and thrilling adventures that awaited within.

The space was not small, but due to the sheer number of people occupying the space, it was left cramped and busy. Zal masterfully led the group through the crowd. He did not shirk away from using his authority as a cultivator; many times, he even pointed at his crystal when some of the non-cultivators became unruly.

After no time at all, the group reached a row of five. Pods. If one could call them that. ‘That is just weird.’ Thorne grimaced as he looked at the source of the virtual game. It was a starchy white circle. Lines of neon light stretched over the pod, and a black box outlined the area where the user was supposed to enter.

‘Oh, Lyra.” Zal looked over his shoulder, “You still willing to pay.”

She scoffed but grudgingly nodded. “Of course.” Lyra held up her wrist and displayed her academy crest in front of her pod, and then the other four pods the group would use. As soon as she held the crest up, a blue screen materialized in front of her and appeared to scan the crest before making the transaction.

“All right, everyone, let's get in.” Zal gestured, “Lucky us, Lyra paid for comms to be activated.”

Thorne ducked under the low-hanging entrance and stepped into the world of lies.

“This is crazy,” Thorn muttered almost noiselessly under his breath. In front of him, the white wall of the pod had disappeared. Not only that, but the whole pod had also disappeared.

Thorne stood on a floating black platform that seemed suspended in time, preceding the law of heaven and earth.

“Hello, guys.” A sound shot through his ears. Thorne turned his body—or rather, his virtual body—toward the direction of the noise. It came from another person on the platform! There were actually four other people on the platform.

‘So, we all got placed together.’ Thorne realized, ‘That’s good.’

“So, everyone,” The same voice said, Zal’s voice, “Which world do you guys want to visit?”

Something suddenly shifted all around the platform. A metallic ring resounded throughout the virtual existence, and a massive blue screen lit up in front of the group.

‘It's just like the system,’ Thorne thought as he willed his own system interface to existence for comparison, or at least tried. Despite all his efforts, the usual interface, which was easy to summon, never came. Nothing came.

‘Hmm, that’s strange.’ Thorne thought, ‘How does technology dominate the system?’

Shaking his head, Thorne ignored that thought and focused instead on what Jacky wanted: mingling.

Welcome to the Virtual War Games! Please pick an era!

Bronze Age Worlds

Medieval Age

Pre-Industrial Age

Industrial Age

Advanced Planet-Bound Age

Inter System Age

Intergalactic Age

‘Wow, that’s quite a few options.’ Thorne whistled.

“All right, everyone. Take your pick.” Zal said, “I, for one, vote for the medieval age. Something about fighting with normal weapons but not having energy or technology is just baffling.”

Lyra, “I concur.”

Moravian and Procka followed the duo’s decision as well. Leaving Thorne no choice in the matter

“Pick, Medieval Age,” Zal commanded. With a bright surge of light, the screen shifted, and five more rows of text appeared.

Battle of Illom, (Sool)

Battle of Tolagro, (Wasin)

Battle of Badr Sack, (Earth)

“Do Badr Sack!” Thorne shouted, not even bothering to tread the rest. Sweat ran down his face as he looked at the word in disbelief. ‘So they really have it.’ Thorne knew it to be accurate; the words were right there after all, but it still confused him.

“Are you sure you really want to?” Zal asked him, frowning slightly.

Thone looked back at him deadpan, “Yes.” He replied.

Shaking his head, Zal smiled; “All right, then I’ll also vote for Badr Sack.”

Procka then surprisingly raises her hand.

Thorne and the other three students gawked, ‘She actually voted… not last.’

Lyra and Moravian shrugged in acceptance as they saw a majority vote being established.

“There we go,” Zal said, gravitas emanating from his voice. Pick, The Battle of Badr Sack from Earth!”