Next was Marcus, the winner of Group 2.

  He stepped forward and stood tall.

  "Ready?" Darius asked.

  "Ready."

  The first arrow came straight to his body. He didn't move or dodge. He took a defensive stance and let it hit him. The arrow bounced off, doing no damage. It was the same until the sixth arrow, which came enchanted with lightning.

  He made a shield from stone and used it to block it.

  The next four arrows came from different places, but he was able to block them except the last one that hit him on his back directly. It did little to no damage except making a hole in his shirt.

  Darius lowered his bow.

  "Good defense, but you need to work on your speed. Even the toughest wall will crack if it gets hit in the same place over and over."

  "Understood," a one-word answer Marcus gave before walking back.

  Omar stepped forward next, cracking his knuckles. A low heat radiated from his body.

  "Finally, my turn," he said, smirking.

  "Don't go easy."

  Darius's bowstring glowed faintly blue.

  "I never do."

  The first few arrows came fast. Omar blocked one with a chunk of hardened earth that erupted from the floor, ducked the second, and punched the third into splinters, fire bursting from his hand on impact.

  The class gasped. Even Darius's eyebrow twitched slightly. He wasn't the first to survive the first three arrows, but he was the most aggressive so far.

  The next arrows blurred. Darius began teleporting: from behind him, from above, from impossible angles. Omar tried to block, dodge, or even burn them, but barely kept up. The tenth arrow came from above while the ninth arrow came from the back, humming with static, just slower than a bullet.

  Omar, tired, let fire erupt from him, burning the arrows but making him so tired he could barely stand.

  Darius lowered his bow.

  "You rely too much on reaction and explosive power. Anticipation and using the smallest amount of energy needed is what keeps you alive."

  Omar exhaled, smiling.

  "Then I'll work on that."

  Valeria was next.

  The red-haired girl walked forward in silence, sword drawn. This time, her sharp steel sword.

  When the arrows came, she moved like a storm. Her strikes were precise: one swing, two arrows cut cleanly in half. She stepped, turned, blocked another three. The last five came at the same time from different places, with the smallest difference in their distance from her. With one continuous move, she cut the one in front of her, deflected the one above, cut the one behind, deflected the one on her right, and dodged the one from the left.

  The class fell quiet.

  Darius gave a faint smile.

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  "Valeria Stormrend. Good form. Refine it further."

  She bowed slightly.

  "Yes, sir."

  Students went one after the other, most failing with the first five arrows. Even Elise, the winner of Group 4, just survived until the seventh arrow.

  At last, it was Roy's turn.

  He walked forward calmly, hands in his pockets. Darius studied him for a long moment before getting an arrow.

  "You don't seem nervous," he said.

  Roy shrugged lightly.

  "I don't see a reason to be nervous."

  "Good way of thinking."

  The first arrow came fast. Roy tilted his head. It missed by an inch.

  And then it began.

  'You're doing it again,' the voice murmured inside his head. 'Holding back. Pretending.'

  Roy froze for half a second. His pulse spiked.

  'Not now,' he thought sharply.

  Thwip!

  He closed his eyes and twisted his body, dodging the arrow at the last moment.

  The voice chuckled softly.

  'You think staying quiet will solve everything? It won't. If they find out? It isn't if. It's when.'

  He clenched his jaw.

  "Shut up," he muttered under his breath.

  The third arrow came, then the fourth. Roy sidestepped, ducked, his body moving faster, smoother, almost too smooth. His shadow shifted faintly beneath him, responding like a living thing.

  His body was moving on its own while he was trying to stop the Ghost from talking.

  Whispers began spreading among the students.

  "His eyes are closed."

  "Can he... see through shadows?"

  By the sixth arrow, Roy's breathing had evened out again, but the voice didn't stop.

  'You can't run from what you are.'

  'What do you think will happen when they find the truth? You can't hide forever behind this quiet act. The moment you slip, everyone will leave.'

  Roy's steps faltered slightly.

  The eighth arrow came from behind, faster than any arrow thrown till now. He dodged it smoothly.

  The ninth. He ducked, barely moving his leg.

  'You think you are one of them, but the moment the mask falls, they will abandon you like always. To them, we are not the same.'

  The tenth, fast, direct toward Roy's chest.

  'Stop pretending to be normal and burn them before they do it to you,' the voice growled. 'Have fun burning and killing them. There is no point in hiding. Prove their expectations.'

  "I said shut IT," Roy said through his teeth.

  He thrust his hand out, catching the arrow mid-flight.

  Electricity crackled around his arm, burning his skin slightly, but he didn't flinch. His eyes burned dark red for a brief second.

  Then, fire.

  A deep, unnatural dark red flame ignited in his palm, traveling until it covered all of his arm, devouring the arrow until it turned to ash and melting its head. Its heat was felt even outside the barrier.

  Gasps filled the arena. Darius's expression finally changed: a flicker of interest and worry.

  Roy stood there, breathing hard, staring at his hand as the flames died down.

  He looked up to see Darius watching him closely.

  Darius lowered his bow slowly. Lightning crackled once along the string, then faded.

  Finally, he said,

  "Congrats on stopping all of them."

  He held Roy's gaze a second longer than necessary, then turned to the rest of the class.

  "Assessment complete. Class dismissed."

  Students began whispering as they filed out, throwing glances at Roy: some awe, some fear.

  Marie hovered nearby, concern on her face. Omar, as much as he looked impressed, was worried.

  Roy didn't look at either of them.

  He was still staring at his hand, the faint warmth of that red fire lingering beneath his skin.

  Finally, he put his head down as he walked fast to leave, while Marie, Omar, and even Valeria were looking at him as he left.

  *******

  Roy looked up to see a shadowy red figure in front of him. They were standing on a staircase, both facing each other in a weird place that looked like it came from a dream.

  "What made you come here? Want to finally surrender?" the Ghost said with a smirk.