As the echoes of the last test faded and the crowd began to settle, the lights dimmed—not by switch, but by presence. The air grew colder.
From the shadows, a figure emerged.
Clad in sleek, obsidian armor etched with glowing sigils, his movements were silent like falling snow, yet heavy with pressure. He held a black, jagged key, carved from something older than metal.
"My name is Ice Jhun," he said, his voice smooth like a blade gliding across ice.
"Or call me I.J — the Concept Wraiths Slayer."
Murmurs flickered among the remaining candidates, but they were silenced when his next words dropped like thunder.
"Some of you might be wondering — what are Concept Wraiths?"
He took a step forward, shadows curling at his feet.
"When a Concept awakens, it gives power… but when twisted by trauma, obsession, hate — that same Concept decays into madness. It mutates. It feeds. It becomes a Concept Wraith."
The room grew even colder.
"These cursed beings roam the world, shapeless echoes of ruined beliefs. They're ranked from F to the rare, nightmarish XS class. The deeper and purer the original belief... the more terrifying the Wraith."
He raised the key, and strange symbols shimmered in the air.
"Your next test is simple. Survive. You'll face Wraiths ranked F, E, and D. We're not supplying weapons. You either fight with your wits, your Concept... or die."
Candidates began to ready themselves, tension gripping the room like a noose.
Off to the side, Shiro leaned in close to Neo and Tian Yu, his voice low.
"That guy," he said, eyes fixed on Ice Jhun, "he's not just some test administrator. He's one of the most feared in the entire Assassin's hierarchy... a real legend."
Neo's breath hitched. The key in I.J's hand began to glow—
And the gate to the trial creaked open.
"BEGIN!"
Ice Jhun's voice roared across the battlefield, and chaos erupted like a tidal wave crashing on jagged rocks.
A twisted swarm of Concept Wraiths—snarling shadows shaped by broken beliefs—came rushing in from the mists. Some were as small as wolves, others the size of buildings, each seething with corrupted energy.
The rules were clear:
F-Rank kill: 2 points
E-Rank kill: 5 points
D-Rank kill: 10 points
"LET'S SEE WHAT YOU'RE MADE OF!" I.J bellowed from his throne-like perch above the battlefield.
While some candidates charged in like maniacs—drunk on the thrill of battle—Neo was just running.
Dashing through dirt and smoke, dodging claws and phantom blades, he whispered to himself, "I'm no warrior… I'm a thinker."
But then reality slapped him.
No kills = no points = no passing.
Desperate, he spotted a D-Rank Concept Wraith—a towering beast made of rusted armor, melted clocks, and weeping black mist.
It was 14 times his size, eyes glowing with the fury of a concept long forgotten.
Neo knew he couldn't beat it in a straight-up brawl.
So he did what Neo does best—he strategized.
He darted around the monster, using debris and crumbled ruins to bait and confuse it.
For minutes, he wore it down, made it chase, made it exhaust its rage.
Until finally—THUD—it collapsed, wheezing, its core exposed like a dying heartbeat.
Neo didn't hesitate. He grabbed a boulder, heaved with all his might, and smashed it down onto the glowing core. The creature shrieked as it disintegrated into smoke and stars.
+10 Points. Neo's first victory.
From across the field, Reinhard was slicing through Wraiths like a walking storm. His aura blazed with quiet fury.
Shiro, with unshakable calm, moved like a ghost, striking only when it mattered.
Mia conjured illusions, manipulating the battlefield like a puppeteer.
And Tian Yu—oh, he was a force of nature, his Concept practically boiling around him.
They were beasts, no hesitation, no mercy.
Yet high above, Ice Jhun frowned, arms folded, the key still glowing faintly.
"None of them… not even the top scorers… have awakened Metro."
He muttered to himself, displeased.
"Power without understanding is just violence. When will they realize what true strength is?"
And far below, Neo, breathing hard, stood over the remains of his second kill.
He wiped blood and sweat from his face and whispered,
"This... this isn't just survival. There's something more to this. Something deeper."
The countdown ticked on.
The battlefield roared.
And Metro stirred... quietly in the hearts of the unaware.