Essence Wars

After the introductions, Nel led us to the armory. The sleek, metal-lined walls gleamed under bright, artificial lights. Unlike the chaotic energy of the classroom or the raw tension of the battle, this space felt organized, methodical—a place where decisions could mean life or death. Racks of weapons, armor, and gadgets stretched across the room, all tailored to the Academy's strict sense of style.

"All right," Nel said, gesturing grandly at the armory. "Time to suit up. Here's the deal: the Organization likes its operatives looking sharp, so everything here is business formal. Your suits will integrate seamlessly with the gear you choose. This is your first and probably last free shopping spree, so pick carefully. Remember: once something's assigned to you, it's yours. If you break it, the replacement comes out of your merit points."

Amir whistled, taking in the rows of gear with wide eyes. "Classy and deadly. I like it."

Zach smirked faintly, his sharp gaze already scanning the options. "Efficiency is what matters. Looks come second."

Amir shot him a look. "Spoken like a guy who wouldn't know style if it hit him in the face."

Zach ignored him, moving toward the accessories section. His eyes landed on a sleek pair of silver cufflinks etched with delicate, glowing patterns. The attendant nearby stepped forward, sensing his interest.

"Good choice," the attendant said, presenting them on a velvet tray. "These are Essence Perception Cufflinks. They amplify your ability to detect and analyze essence flows in your environment. Perfect for tracking enemies or predicting movements in battle."

Zach picked them up, sliding them onto the cuffs of his dark gray suit. The glowing patterns activated, faint pulses radiating through the lines. He clenched his fists experimentally, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Simple. Efficient."

Meanwhile, Amir was practically bouncing between racks of weapons. "Do I have a limit?" he asked, inspecting a set of throwing knives.

Nel leaned against a nearby wall, her expression amused. "Your limit is how much you can carry without looking ridiculous."

"That's subjective," Amir muttered, strapping a bandolier of knives across his chest.

Deya, as always, moved with quiet purpose. She selected a tailored black suit that emphasized mobility, pairing it with a lightweight, flexible armor layer beneath the jacket. Her only weapon was a sleek dagger, which she clipped to her belt. The contrast between her minimal approach and Amir's overflowing arsenal was almost comical.

Nel turned to me with a grin. "And you, Captain? Got your eye on anything?"

I walked over to the weapons section, picking up a slim longsword that matched the elegance of the suits we'd all been assigned. The blade hummed faintly with stored essence energy, perfectly balanced for quick, decisive strikes. I also grabbed a lightweight, high-collared cloak that doubled as armor, its design blending seamlessly with my tailored suit.

When everyone was geared up, Nel stepped forward to inspect us, hands on her hips. "Not bad, Team One. Not bad at all. You clean up nicely." Her grin widened as her eyes fell on Zach. "I see you picked something special there, cufflinks boy."

Zach gave her a flat look. "They're practical."

"Sure they are," Nel teased before turning serious. "All right, listen up. Your suits and gear are fitted with essence-threaded materials to enhance your abilities without drawing too much attention. You'll look like executives, not soldiers. That's the point—blend in, stand out only when you need to. Got it?"

We all nodded.

"Good. Now," Nel continued, pacing slowly, "your first mission starts tomorrow morning. Germany. It's a scouting mission, but it won't be a walk in the park. Remember, this isn't just training anymore. You're representing the Organization out there."

"Germany, huh?" Amir said, adjusting his tie. "I hope the pay matches the suit."

Nel rolled her eyes. "You survive the mission, and we'll talk about paychecks. Anything else?"

Deya, silent as ever, shook her head. Zach just adjusted his cuffs, and Amir muttered something about making sure he didn't get blood on his suit.

Nel looked at me, her expression sharp and focused. "Fortune, you'd better not make me regret this."

I met her gaze, my confidence unwavering. "You won't."

Her grin returned, sharp and full of mischief. "Good. Team One is officially ready. Dismissed."