The rise of the unorthodox

"Good morning, team! Welcome to our last squad meeting before the big contest," Mr. Sayo greeted us with a grin, his tone light and playful. He paused for dramatic effect, then added, "Don't worry, I won't bore you with too many details… unless you insist."

A few of us chuckled, and he winked, clearly enjoying himself. "Alright, let's get down to business. The contest is split into three sections. Think of it like one of those video games you're all addicted to, except here, you can't just respawn if you mess up."

He leaned casually against the desk, twirling a pen like he was hosting a game show. "In Section A, you'll face some kind of puzzle. I don't know the exact details, but let's hope it's not one of those escape-room nightmares where the clock keeps ticking and you're screaming at each other about keys. Section B is where you'll really shine—combat. You'll fight members from enemy squads, so try to make me proud and look cool while you're at it. And finally, Section C is monster hunting. Forty intermediate-tier monsters. No, you can't keep any as pets, Delight. I already know you were going to ask."

The room erupted in laughter, and Delight shook her head, smirking.

Mr. Sayo held up his hands theatrically. "The three squads with the highest points get to join the contest army. Simple, right? Oh, and there's a little clause about special cases. If you impress someone high up, you might get in even if your score's not perfect. So, no pressure—except for all the pressure."

He reached into a box and started handing out sleek armbands. "Now for the fun part. These bad boys are your battle armbands. They're not just fancy accessories—they're going to save your lives. Click the button in the center, and voila! Instant battle suit. It's like cosplay, but deadlier."

We stared at the armbands, skeptical. "Go on, don't be shy. It won't bite. Probably."

I clicked the button, and the armband activated with a soft hum. A glossy black material began spreading over my body, fitting snugly like a second skin. It stopped just at my neck, and I ran my hands over the smooth surface. It felt sturdy but flexible, like it was designed for both protection and movement.

"Nice, right?" Mr. Sayo grinned. "Now, here's the deal: the suits will keep you from dying, but they won't stop you from getting your butt kicked. So, try not to be too reckless. Or do—just make sure it's entertaining."

He clapped his hands together. "That's it, folks. You've got today to prep, panic, or pretend you're confident. Tomorrow, the trials begin. May the odds be… eh, you get it."

We began filing out, the mood lightened by his antics. Devin, as expected, was the first to pipe up.

"I can't wait to kick ass. I'm going to dominate this thing," he boasted, his trademark smirk firmly in place.

Daniel rolled his eyes so hard I thought he might sprain something. "Fail the puzzle test, and you'll drag us all down. Use your head for once."

Devin's cocky grin faltered, and he squared up to Daniel, his tone dropping. "Careful, smart guy. You're cruising for a bruising."

I smirked, watching the tension rise. Honestly, I wasn't above letting them have at it for entertainment's sake, but Delight, the eternal peacemaker, quickly stepped in.

"Alright, break it up, you two!" she said, her voice bright and cheerful. "How about we all go grab some food? One last good meal before a week of punching, bleeding, and not dying."

Her suggestion worked like magic. The tension eased, and we all agreed. As we walked out together, Mr. Sayo called after us, "Don't eat too much! I don't want anyone throwing up in the middle of the trials. Unless you're aiming for the dramatic effect—then, by all means, go for it!"

We laughed, the humor cutting through the weight of what was to come. Tomorrow, the real challenge would begin.

....

Lunch was surprisingly calm, considering what lay ahead. The cafeteria was bustling with chatter from other squads, but our group ate in relative comfort, tucked into a corner booth. Plates clattered as food was passed around, the smell of roasted meat and fresh bread mingling with the low hum of conversation.

I kept my focus on my plate, cutting into a slice of spiced chicken with deliberate care. Despite my best efforts to remain neutral, I couldn't help but feel the occasional glance from Daniel. He was trying—making small attempts to engage me—but I wasn't ready to humor him yet. Not after the weeks of tension and unspoken words that hung between us like a storm cloud.

"So, uh… what's your strategy for the puzzle section?" Daniel finally ventured, his tone casual but his eyes betraying something more—curiosity, or maybe frustration at my silence.

I didn't answer, letting the clink of my fork against the plate fill the awkward void.

Devin noticed, of course. He let out a low chuckle, leaning back in his seat with a smirk. "Ouch. Tough crowd, huh, Daniel? Maybe you should just focus on solving the puzzles and leave the talking to the rest of us."

Daniel's jaw tightened, but he didn't bite back. Not yet.

Delight, ever the glue holding us together, finally stepped in. She placed her utensils down with exaggerated care, her expression turning serious. "Alright, enough of this. We need to talk."

Devin raised an eyebrow. "We are talking."

"Not about food, Devin," she said with a pointed look. Her gaze shifted between me and Daniel, and I knew where this was going. "Look, I get it. You two have your issues. But if we go into this contest divided, we're going to lose. And if we lose, it's not just you two who suffer—it's all of us. We're a squad. Whether we like it or not, we're in this together."

Daniel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not trying to fight, Delight. I just… It feels like I can't win with her." He gestured toward me, his frustration clear.

I put my fork down, meeting his gaze for the first time all day. "Maybe because you think I'm weak. You don't listen, Daniel. That's the problem."

Devin whistled low under his breath, clearly enjoying the drama, but Delight shot him a sharp look. "Devin, zip it. You're not helping."

Devin raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk fading. "Fine, fine. I'll play nice. Doesn't mean I have to like it, though."

Delight turned back to me, her voice softer now. "Listen, I know you've been working hard, and I know you've got your reasons for being upset. But holding onto this during the contest? It's only going to hurt your chances to show everyone how strong you've become. Do you really want that?"

Her words hit harder than I expected. I clenched my fists under the table, staring at the half-eaten food in front of me. "No," I admitted after a moment, my voice low. "I don't."

"Good," she said with a small, encouraging smile. "Because I want to see that strength, too. And I think Daniel does, even if he's bad at showing it."

Daniel glanced at me, his expression softening. "She's right. You've been pushing yourself harder than anyone else. I've noticed. Maybe… I don't say that enough."

The unexpected admission caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't know what to say.

Devin groaned, breaking the tension. "Alright, fine. If you two can agree to stop brooding and work together, I'll play nice with Daniel. Just don't expect me to like it."

"Baby steps," Delight said with a chuckle.

I sighed, feeling a weight lift from my chest. "Fine. I'll work with him. But don't expect me to go easy during the contest."

Daniel smiled faintly. "Wouldn't dream of it."

The conversation turned lighter after that, and for the first time in weeks, the tension in our group began to fade. As we finished our meals, I silently promised myself one thing: during the contest, I'd show Daniel and Delight exactly how far I'd come. No hesitation. No holding back.

For the first time, I felt a flicker of excitement about what lay ahead.

....

After lunch, we parted ways, each of us retreating to our rooms to prepare for tomorrow. Delight and I walked together in relative silence, the weight of the contest still pressing on our minds. When we reached our shared room, she gave me a reassuring smile.

"Get some rest," she said softly, already pulling back the covers on her bed. "Big day tomorrow."

"Yeah," I murmured, though the knot in my stomach didn't feel like it would loosen anytime soon.

Night fell quickly. The room was dark except for the faint moonlight streaming through the curtains. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to will myself to sleep. Eventually, Delight's steady breathing signaled she'd drifted off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

That's when it started.

A sharp, aching pain bloomed at the base of my skull, just above my forehead. I winced, pressing my palm against the spot. The ache turned into a throb, then a searing heat. Panic surged through me as I realized the source: the tiny horn I'd been born with, the one I'd spent my entire life hiding.

I stumbled out of bed, heart pounding. The faint glow I'd sometimes noticed in the past was back—but stronger now. I hurried to the bathroom, flicking on the light. In the mirror, the horn gleamed softly, an eerie, otherworldly light that seemed to pulse in time with my heartbeat.

It had grown.

Not by much, but enough for me to notice. Enough to terrify me. I reached up, touching it with trembling fingers. It was warm, almost alive.

"What's happening to me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of my shallow breaths.

The horn had always been a strange quirk, something my family dismissed as a birth defect. I'd believed them—or maybe I'd wanted to believe them. But now, staring at my reflection, I couldn't ignore the truth. This wasn't normal. This wasn't human.

The fear clawed at me, threatening to pull me under. What if it kept growing? What if someone noticed? What if—

A sudden, blinding flash of light filled the room, so bright I stumbled backward, shielding my eyes. When the light dimmed, a figure stood before me. Cloaked in shadow, their face obscured, they radiated a presence that sent chills down my spine.

The air felt heavy, charged with energy. The figure stepped closer, their voice low and resonant. "Listen. It's happening faster than I expected."

"What?" My voice was shaky, barely above a whisper. "Who are you?"

"There's no time," they said, ignoring my question. From beneath their cloak, they pulled out a small, shimmering pill, its surface glowing faintly, much like my horn. "Take this. The gods shall be with you, girl."

Before I could respond, they pressed the pill into my hand. The moment I touched it, a surge of warmth spread through me, and the figure disappeared as suddenly as they'd arrived.

I was left standing alone in the bathroom, the pill resting in my palm. My heart raced as I stared at it. The horn throbbed again, more insistently this time, as if it were alive and demanding something. Without thinking, I swallowed the pill.

The warmth turned to fire, rushing through my veins, and the world spun violently. My legs gave out beneath me, and I crumpled to the floor, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision.

The last thing I saw before everything went black was my reflection in the mirror—my glowing horn pulsing brighter than ever, as if mocking me.