Still Abigail's POV
We all stood in the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor. It was one of those weirdly quiet moments, where everyone seemed to be waiting for something to happen. I pulled at the edge of my sportswear, adjusting the simple black outfit we were told to wear. I had to admit, I wasn’t exactly excited about the whole P.E. thing. I never was. But here we were.
The professor, Mr. Rogan, stood in the middle of the room, pacing back and forth like he had something important to say. He was one of those older guys, probably in his mid-fifties, with a voice that could echo across a stadium. He finally stopped pacing and faced us, a serious expression on his face.
“Alright, listen up,” he barked, clapping his hands together. “Today’s not about your usual sports. No basketball, no football, no track and field. What we’re doing here, it’s something unique. Something this academy’s built, to test your skills beyond just physical strength.”
I noticed a few people perk up at that, curious. Most of us had heard rumors about the academy’s special games, but none of us really knew what they were. I’d heard whispers in the halls, students talking about how these games were designed to mess with your mind as much as your body. It wasn’t about winning, not in the traditional sense. It was about how you thought under pressure, how you handled yourself when things got tough.
“These games don’t exist outside this academy,” Mr. Rogan continued. “There’s a reason for that. They’re not just to make you sweat. They’re to measure your critical thinking, your ability to strategize, to react on instinct. And trust me, that’s what separates the Elites from the rest of you. Not just strength or speed, but your brain.”
I could feel the tension in the room rising. This wasn’t just some casual P.E. lesson. It was a test. A test that could determine where you stood in the academy’s pecking order. 
“Now,” Mr. Rogan said, his voice sharper now, “there are rules. And there are consequences if you break them. No foul play. No dirty tricks. This isn’t about who’s the strongest, it’s about who can think on their feet. If you can’t handle that, then you’re not cut out for what’s to come.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle over me. As if this academy wasn’t intense enough already, now we had to prove ourselves in yet another way. But part of me couldn’t help but feel… ready. This was why I came here, wasn’t it? To push myself, to be more than just a face in the crowd. 
And if that meant playing their little mind games, then fine. I’d play.
Just then, the door to the gym creaked open, and all eyes turned toward the entrance. Xioron strolled in, looking completely unfazed by the fact that he was late. He was wearing a dark red sports outfit, the color that screamed “Elite,” as if the rest of us needed reminding. His short pants and fitted shirt clung to his frame, making him stand out even more. 
I glanced over at Nathalie, sitting not too far from me, dressed in her blue attire, calm as ever. She didn’t even blink at Xioron’s entrance. Then again, Nathalie never showed much emotion in public. She was like a statue, always composed, always quiet.
Mr. Rogan didn’t hold back, though. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at Xioron. “Nice of you to join us, Xioron. I guess being an Elite means you don’t need to follow the same schedule as the rest of us?”
Xioron just smirked, as if the professor’s sarcastic jab rolled right off him. He walked over to his spot without a word, not even bothering to defend himself. It was like he knew he didn’t have to. Being an Elite had its privileges, even if that meant getting away with being late.
I watched him for a second, but then turned my attention back to Mr. Rogan, who was now explaining the games.
“These games,” he said, pulling out a large board with diagrams of different courses, “are split into categories. Each one is designed to test a different skill. Some of you will be working alone, some in teams. You’ll need to think fast and work together if you want to succeed. And remember, it’s not just about winning. It’s about how you play.”
He pointed to the first course, a maze-like structure with various obstacles. “This one tests your problem-solving skills. You’ll need to navigate through without getting caught in the traps. Fail, and you’re out.”
Then he moved to the second course, which looked like some sort of strategy-based game with moving platforms and targets. “This one’s about accuracy and timing. You’ll need to hit your targets while keeping your balance.”
The third course was the most intense. It looked like a combination of both physical and mental challenges, with puzzles to solve in between each phase. “This one’s the hardest. Only the best make it through. It’s a mix of everything—speed, strength, and intelligence.”
I felt a knot form in my stomach. These weren’t just games. They were tests. Tests that could make or break someone’s reputation at the academy.
Mr. Rogan finished explaining the rules and gave us all a final look, his eyes scanning the room. “Alright. You’ve got your categories. You’ve got your rules. Now go prove yourselves.”
The room erupted into movement as students started pairing up, getting ready for the games. I stood still for a moment, taking it all in. This was my chance. My chance to show what I was capable of. To prove I wasn’t just some ordinary student.
I could feel Nathalie’s eyes on me from across the room, but when I looked over, she had already turned her attention back to the course. She didn’t need to play these games like the rest of us. She was already at the top.
As I moved toward my assigned category, I noticed Xioron smirking at me from the corner of his eye. I ignored him. I didn’t need his attitude messing with my focus. Today, I wasn’t just here to play. I was here to win. 
I stood there, staring at the paper in my hands, the names written in neat, bold letters. My name… and Xioron’s. ‘Xioron?’ Of all people, it had to be him? I muttered a string of curses under my breath, clenching the paper in my fists. This day just couldn’t get worse, could it?
I glanced around the gym, trying to clear my head, to shake off the irritation bubbling inside me. But there he was, Xioron, standing across the room with that same smug look on his face. It was like he had planned this all along. I didn’t see it coming, not at all. He must’ve known we’d be paired together, maybe even pulled some strings to make it happen. The thought of him going through that trouble just to mess with me made my blood boil.
I wasn’t sure what game he was playing, but I knew he had something up his sleeve. Maybe he thought he could bring me down today, humiliate me in front of everyone. For what? For his stupid Elite reputation? The guy would do anything to climb higher, even if it meant stepping on someone like me.
I tried to refocus, to calm myself down. I wasn’t going to let Xioron get under my skin. Not today. I looked down at the paper again, reading the instructions over carefully. It was a one-on-one challenge, critical thinking and puzzle-solving, with a twist that made me grit my teeth.
‘A survival game.’ Great. Just great.
The goal was to find hidden flags scattered around the gym, complete physical tasks, and make it to the finish line. But there was more to it. If you got a flag, the opponent could steal it. And if they managed to reach the finish line with the flag, they’d win. It wasn’t just about being fast or smart—it was about staying one step ahead of your opponent. 
And my opponent… was Xioron.
I cursed again, louder this time. Why couldn’t life just give me a break? Here I was, minding my own business, trying to get through a simple P.E. class, and now I was stuck in some twisted survival game with the one guy who’d probably love to see me fail.
I could feel my frustration bubbling up, making it hard to think straight. This was the last thing I needed. How was I supposed to beat someone like Xioron? He was taller, faster, and way more athletic than I’d ever be. He had the kind of flexibility that came naturally, the kind that made people like him untouchable in games like this.
But I wasn’t going to give up. No way. I wasn’t going to let some cocky Elite boy get the better of me.
I scanned the gym, trying to figure out my strategy. The flags could be anywhere, hidden in plain sight or tucked away in the trickiest places. And on top of that, I had to keep my eyes on Xioron, make sure he didn’t sneak up on me and steal whatever flag I managed to grab.
I sighed, my mind already racing through different scenarios. This wasn’t just about finding the flags. It was about outsmarting him. And that was the key—outsmarting him. Sure, he had the physical advantage, but if I could just keep my head in the game, I had a chance. Maybe not a big one, but a chance nonetheless.
“Alright, players!” Mr. Rogan’s voice boomed through the gym, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Get ready for the match. You have five minutes to prepare, then the game begins.”
Five minutes. That’s all I had to figure out how to beat Xioron.
I took a deep breath, pacing around my side of the gym. My eyes scanned the area, searching for any clues, any sign of where the flags might be hidden. I had to stay sharp, stay focused. If I let my frustration get the best of me, I’d lose for sure.
Xioron, on the other hand, seemed completely relaxed, as if this was just another day for him. He was stretching casually, not even bothering to look at me. That cocky smirk was still plastered on his face, like he knew something I didn’t. I wanted to wipe that look right off his face.
I glanced at the paper one last time, trying to memorize the rules, the twists, everything. I couldn’t afford to miss anything important.
When the whistle blew, it felt like everything went silent for a split second, the air thick with tension. My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline kicking in as I sprinted forward, my eyes darting from one corner of the gym to the next.
The first flag wasn’t too hard to find. I spotted it tucked under one of the benches, just out of sight. I grabbed it, but before I could even think about celebrating, I heard footsteps behind me.
Xioron.
He was faster than I thought, already closing the distance between us. I cursed under my breath, gripping the flag tighter. There was no way I was letting him take it from me. 
I bolted toward the next station, my mind racing. I knew he was right behind me, but I couldn’t afford to look back. If I hesitated for even a second, he’d catch up. I needed to keep moving, keep pushing forward.
As I reached the next station, I realized what I had to do, push-ups. A simple task, but in the heat of the moment, it felt like torture. My arms burned as I dropped to the floor, knocking out the required number as fast as I could.
But just as I finished, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around, my heart racing.
It was Xioron, grinning like he’d already won. “You’re not making this easy, Abigail,” he said, his voice low and taunting.
After some time collecting more flags, I managed to collect four flags, barely managing to keep my head straight while dodging and weaving through the obstacles. My heart was pounding, my arms sore, but I didn’t care. I had more flags than Xioron. He only had three. It felt like a small victory, but I knew it wasn’t over yet.
I could see Xioron out of the corner of my eye, his face twisted into something I couldn’t quite place at first, anger, maybe frustration. But then it hit me. He didn’t just want to win, he ‘needed to win.’ There was something about the way his jaw clenched, his fists tight around his flags. He wasn’t just scared of losing; he was terrified of it.
I tried to shake off the thought, focusing on getting to the finish line. But before I knew it, he was on me. I didn’t see him coming, not until it was too late. He moved fast, faster than I’d expected, and with a force I didn’t think he’d use. Xioron grabbed one of my flags, ripping it from my grip before I could even react.
“What the hell!” I shouted, spinning around to face him. He didn’t answer, just kept that determined, almost desperate look on his face. It wasn’t just about the game anymore. This was personal for him. 
I could feel my pulse racing, frustration bubbling up inside me. Xioron wasn’t playing fair, not anymore. He wanted to take me down, steal what I had, and leave me with nothing. And the worst part? There was no one around to stop him. Professor Rogan wasn’t watching, too busy dealing with something on the other side of the field. We were on our own.
Xioron lunged at me again, his eyes locked on the last flag still hanging from my waistband. I barely dodged, stumbling back as his hand grazed my side. My heart was pounding in my ears. I couldn’t believe this. He was actually trying to ‘steal’ from me, not just win the game, but physically take what I’d earned.
“Stop it!” I yelled, but he didn’t listen. He wasn’t hearing anything anymore. It was like he’d snapped, his focus so sharp, so narrowed in on that flag. He wasn’t going to stop until he had it.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I couldn’t let him win. Not like this.
He came at me again, but this time I was ready. I ducked, twisting out of his reach and using my momentum to shove him hard. Xioron stumbled, his balance faltering for a split second before he crashed to the ground, the impact echoing in the empty gym.
I didn’t wait to see if he’d get back up. I didn’t even think. I just ran.
The finish line was in sight, just a few feet away. My legs burned, every muscle in my body screaming at me to stop, but I pushed through, my focus only on that line. I could hear Xioron scrambling behind me, the sound of his feet hitting the floor as he tried to catch up, but I wasn’t going to give him the chance.
With one last burst of energy, I crossed the finish line, my chest heaving as I collapsed onto the mat. I had done it. I had won. 
For a moment, I lay there, my breath ragged, my heart racing. Then I turned my head, glancing back at Xioron. He was still on the ground, staring at me with a look I couldn’t quite read. Was it anger? Frustration? Or maybe… disappointment?
He didn’t say anything, just sat there, catching his breath. And in that moment, I realized something, this wasn’t about me at all. It was about him, about his fear of losing, of being anything less than perfect. 
And for the first time, I didn’t feel angry. I felt sorry for him.
I slowly stood up, still panting, my body aching from the effort. But I had won, and that was enough for me. Without another word, I turned and walked away, leaving Xioron behind, still sitting on the floor.
I grabbed a bottle of water, slumping down on the bench in the corner. I needed a second to calm down, to let my heart slow back to normal after all that running and… the rest. 
I barely noticed Xioron behind me until it was too late. One second, I was sipping water, and the next, I was yanked up by my shirt, both of his hands gripping it so tight that I couldn’t even breathe. My water bottle slipped from my hand, spilling across the floor as I gasped, my lungs desperate for air.
"Xioron—" I managed to choke out, trying to push him away, but his grip only tightened. I could see the fury in his eyes, the anger radiating off him like heat. He wasn’t over the game. He wasn’t over losing.
“Let… go…” I whispered, my voice fading as my vision started to blur. I couldn’t breathe. My hands clawed at his, but it was like trying to pull steel. I could feel myself slipping, my knees wobbling. I was going to pass out...
Then, suddenly, a shadow loomed behind him. 
Nathalie.
I barely saw her at first, but I felt the chill that spread across the gym as she approached. Her eyes were locked on Xioron, cold, emotionless, like she was watching something boring. But the look on her face was deadly. It was the kind of look that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, even in the situation I was in.
“Drop her.” Nathalie’s voice was low, deadly calm. 
But Xioron didn’t listen. If anything, he squeezed tighter, his knuckles white as he clutched at my shirt, suffocating me even more. My vision swam, everything starting to go black.
“Now.” Nathalie added, but there was still no response.
And then, without warning, Nathalie moved so fast I barely saw it. Her leg shot out, slamming into Xioron’s left knee with a crack so loud it echoed through the gym. Xioron cried out in pain, his body collapsing to the floor as he released me. I gasped, finally able to breathe, stumbling back as I coughed and clutched my neck.
Xioron lay on the ground, gripping his leg, his face twisted in agony. But Nathalie didn’t even flinch. She stared down at him like he was an inconvenience, like she couldn’t be bothered to feel anything for him at all.
I was still struggling to breathe, rubbing my neck where his hands had been. My legs felt weak, my body trembling. Nathalie finally looked away from Xioron, stepping toward me with a calm expression, though I could see the hint of worry in her eyes. Just for a moment.
“You okay?” she asked, her voice softer now.
I nodded, barely able to speak. My throat was still burning from the pressure, and my head was spinning. “Yeah… I’m fine.” But my voice was hoarse, and I wasn’t convincing anyone.
She didn’t say anything, just glanced over at Xioron, who was still groaning on the ground, clutching his leg like a baby. Her gaze hardened again, colder than before. The entire gym had gone silent, all the other students watching with wide eyes, whispers spreading through the crowd. 
Nathalie stepped forward, her tone sharp. “Xioron,” she said in a voice that commanded silence. “We will see you at the school board meeting after classes. You want to act like an animal? Then you can face the hell with us.”
Xioron tried to respond, but another wave of pain hit him, and all he could manage was a grunt. The whispers in the gym grew louder, students muttering to each other. Some of them were clearly shaken by what just happened, while others seemed a little too amused by the drama. 
Nathalie shot a glare at the crowd. “What’s the matter? Show’s over, people. Get back to your lives,” she said with a wave of her hand, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure you’ve seen worse on TV.”
The students flinched, most of them scattering like they’d been caught snooping on a private moment. I could still feel a few sets of eyes on us, but I didn’t care. I was still trying to steady my breathing, my hands shaking as I reached for another water bottle.
Nathalie came closer, her expression softening as she waved off the few students who tried to help me. “I got this,” she said firmly. “Back off.”
They did, leaving just the two of us standing there in the quiet gym. Nathalie knelt down, handing me a bottle of water and waiting while I took a long drink, trying to calm my nerves. 
“Thank you,” I managed to say, my voice still shaky.
Nathalie shrugged like it was no big deal, but I could see the tension in her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. This is the reason why I told you to stay alert, did I?”
She glanced back at him, still lying on the floor, and for a moment, her expression turned cold again. But then she turned back to me, her face softening slightly.
“You good to stand?” she asked.
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I was telling the truth. My legs felt wobbly, but I wasn’t about to let her see that. Nathalie helped me to my feet, her grip firm but careful, like she was making sure I didn’t topple over.
As we stood there, I couldn’t help but feel this strange mix of emotions, gratitude, exhaustion, and something else I couldn’t quite place. Nathalie was cold, distant, but there was something about her that made me feel… safe.
I swallowed, trying to clear the lump in my throat. “Thanks,” I said again, my voice a little stronger this time. “For, you know… everything.”
She gave me a small nod, her face unreadable. “Don’t mention it.” Then, with one last glance at Xioron, she turned back to me. “Let’s get out of here.”
And with that, we walked out of the gym, leaving the chaos behind us. I just hope Mr. Rogan won't mind us for cutting.