We'd been climbing for what felt like hours, implementing our rotation strategy as we ascended through four more levels of the tower. Each of us would take the lead for a level, drawing the automatons' adaptive attention while the others conserved strength or attacked from unexpected angles. It was working somehow, but the mechanical guardians were becoming more sophisticated with each encounter.
True to her word, Vael led the assault on the first level of our alliance, her water magic forming barriers, weapons, and traps with a precision that spoke of years of rigorous training. I watched in awe as she manipulated moisture from the very air, creating whips of pressurized water that sliced through metallic limbs with surgical precision.
Finn supported her with gusts of wind that amplified her attacks, turning water droplets into high-velocity projectiles that overwhelmed the automatons' adaptive shields. His face was a mask of concentration, sweat beading on his forehead as he channeled what little magical reserves he had left.
Now, on our fifth level together, it was my turn to lead. The automatons we faced here were unlike any we'd encountered before. Their bodies were composed of interlocking plates that constantly shifted and reconfigured, adapting not just to our magic but to our very movement patterns. Attack one way twice, and the third time you'd find yourself striking harmlessly against reinforced armor that hadn't been there seconds before.
"They're calculating trajectories," Gavril observed, his voice strained but steadier than before. Finn's rudimentary healing had stabilized his wound, though the bloodstain on his side had spread to an alarming size. "Look at their optical sensors, they're tracking our muscle movements before we even complete the action."
He was right. The red pinpricks of light embedded in the automatons' faceplates darted constantly, recording, analyzing, predicting. I feinted left, and the nearest guardian shifted its plating to protect that side before I'd even committed to the movement.
"So what's the solution?" I panted, ducking beneath a metal appendage that whistled over my head. "If they can predict everything we do…"
"Be unpredictable," Finn interrupted, unleashing a spiral of wind that momentarily disrupted the nearest automaton's sensors. "Or better yet, be incalculable."
Something in his tone made me glance his way. There was a knowing look in his eyes, one that I couldn't quite decipher. Before I could question him, a massive, scorpion-like automaton burst from a concealed panel in the floor, its segmented tail arcing toward Gavril's already wounded side.
I reacted without thinking, lunging forward with a fire spell that sputtered pathetically from my depleted core. The magic fizzled against the scorpion's adaptive plating, completely ineffective. Desperation seized me as I watched the stinger descend in what felt like slow motion.
That's when it happened.
A loose stone beneath my foot shifted unexpectedly, sending me stumbling forward with more momentum than intended. My shoulder collided with a piece of debris that turned out to be a severed automaton limb, sending it spinning through the air at an impossible angle. The improvised projectile struck the scorpion's tail joint at precisely the right spot to cause a momentary hydraulic failure. The stinger froze mid-strike, inches from Gavril's flesh.
Vael wasted no time, encasing the immobilized appendage in ice so thick it resembled a crystalline club. The added weight dragged the automaton off-balance, exposing its underside where Finn directed a concentrated blast of wind that tore through its less protected components.
"Nice save," Gavril said, his eyes wide as the scorpion collapsed in a heap of twitching metal. "How did you…"
"I didn't," I admitted, staring at my hands in confusion. "I just... stumbled."
There was no time to dwell on it. Three more automatons had already converged on our position, their forms shifting and adapting based on the data they'd collected from our previous encounters. One had developed a shield that rippled like water, clearly designed to counter Vael's magic. Another bore wind dispersal vents across its surface, negating Finn's attacks before they could connect.
The third, however, drew my attention with an almost magnetic pull. Its entire form gleamed with a reflective coating that scattered light, and by extension, fire magic, in harmless directions. But something about it seemed... off. A single plate near its core didn't align perfectly with the others, a minuscule manufacturing flaw that would have been invisible if not for the way the light caught it at this exact angle, from my exact position.
"There!" I shouted, pointing at the imperfection. "Vael, can you hit that spot?"
She followed my gesture, her eyes narrowing. "It's too small a target, and my magic will just slide off that surface."
"Not if I create an opening," Finn interjected, understanding dawning on his face. He gathered what little magical energy he had left, compressing it into a tightly focused blade of air. "On my mark... now!"
The wind blade struck just beside the flawed plate, not enough to penetrate but enough to vibrate the entire section. The minute gap I'd spotted widened fractionally, and that was all Vael needed. A needle-thin jet of water, pressurized to an almost solid state, sliced through the opening and into the automaton's core systems. The guardian shuddered, lights flickering across its surface before it collapsed in a heap of suddenly inert metal.
"How did you even see that?" Gavril asked, amazement clear in his voice.
I shook my head, equally bewildered. "I don't know. It just... caught my eye."
Strange incidents continued as we ascended to the next level. A platform that should have collapsed under our combined weight held just long enough for us to cross. A turret that had locked onto Finn's magical signature suddenly recalibrated to fire at a completely different target. A falling section of the tower narrowly missed crushing us, instead providing perfect cover against a barrage of mechanical projectiles.
Each time, the others looked to me with increasing curiosity, but I had no explanations to offer. These weren't calculated strategies or clever applications of magic. They were accidents, coincidences, random occurrences that just happened to work in our favor.
By the seventh level of our alliance, even I couldn't deny the pattern anymore.
"It's your luck," Finn said quietly as we paused behind a collapsed column, catching our breath before the next assault. "Isn't it?"
I stared at him, opening my mouth to reflexively deny it, after all, when had luck ever been on my side? But the words died in my throat as I remembered my duel with Elias. These weren't random coincidences. This was my luck, the same force that had plagued me my entire life, for reasons unknown decided to start working for me instead of against me.
"That's... not possible," I whispered, more to myself than to Finn. "My luck is a curse. It ruins everything."
Vael, who had been listening with thinly veiled skepticism, scoffed. "Luck isn't real. It's just probability and preparation."
As if the universe itself wanted to prove her wrong, the column we were hiding behind suddenly shifted, its weight causing a section of the floor to depress. Instead of collapsing and crushing us as any rational person might expect, the mechanism triggered a hidden passage to slide open, revealing a maintenance shaft that bypassed the next two levels entirely.
We stared at the opening in stunned silence.
"You were saying?" Finn asked Vael, who looked as though she'd just bitten into something particularly sour.
"Coincidence," she muttered, but there was doubt in her eyes.
Gavril, however, was looking at me with newfound interest. "The luck manipulation... it's subtle, but it's definitely there. I can sense the probability fluctuations."
I blinked at him in surprise. "You can?"
He nodded. "Secondary Bloodline, remember? We're sensitive to magical currents others might miss. Not exactly glamorous compared to commanding water like Vael, but useful in its own way."
I wondered if what Gavril said aligned with Elias' interest in my person, but as we continued our ascent, our strange new dynamic prevented me from delving more into my thoughts. The others began to subtly position themselves to benefit from whatever unpredictable advantage my luck might provide. When we reached a chasm too wide to jump, with no visible means of crossing, they waited for me to take the lead, watching expectantly.
I stepped forward, uncomfortable with their sudden faith in my "ability", if you could even call it that. I had no control over it, couldn't direct or focus it like proper magic. It was wild, chaotic, a force unto itself.
"I can't just... summon convenient accidents on command," I protested, staring at the yawning gap before us.
"Just do what you normally do," Finn suggested with a shrug. "Act before you think."
"That's terrible advice."
"And yet it seems to be working for you."
I couldn't argue with that. With a resigned sigh, I stepped closer to the edge, peering into the darkness below. The drop was dizzying, a fall that would surely be fatal. No pressure.
As I contemplated our options, a faint vibration traveled up through my boots. The tremor intensified, and suddenly the wall to our right exploded outward as a massive, serpentine automaton burst through the stone. Its cylindrical body was composed of hundreds of interlocking segments, each bearing jagged protrusions that whirred like circular saws.
"Tunnel borer!" Gavril shouted in warning, but the mechanical monster was already upon us.
In the chaos that followed, I lost my footing and slipped toward the edge. Vael lunged for me, her fingers closing around my wrist with crushing force. But the momentum carried us both forward, and for one heart-stopping moment, I was certain we were both going over.
Then the impossible happened. The serpentine automaton, in its mindless pursuit, struck a load-bearing column with enough force to dislodge it. The massive stone pillar toppled forward, spanning the chasm like a makeshift bridge before wedging itself securely between the walls.
We didn't question our fortune. As the tunnel borer regrouped for another attack, we sprinted across the fallen column to safety on the other side. Behind us, the mechanical serpent slammed against the edge, unable to pursue due to its bulk.
"That wasn't luck," Vael insisted as we caught our breath on the far side. "That was... strategic retreat utilizing environmental factors."
"Right," Finn drawled, not bothering to hide his amusement. "And I'm sure Asher calculated the exact structural weakness of that column before 'stumbling' toward certain death."
I was too exhausted to argue. The constant fighting, the strain of maintaining even basic magic, and the painful injuries from previous trials had taken their toll. My vision swam at the edges, dark spots dancing before my eyes. If not for Finn's supporting hand on my shoulder, I might have collapsed then and there.
"Just a little further," he encouraged, his own face gray with exhaustion. "I can see light ahead, I think we're approaching the summit."
He was right. Beyond the next spiraling staircase, a golden radiance spilled across the stone, warm and inviting compared to the harsh, artificial light of the lower levels. It gave us the strength for one final push, staggering upward with the last dregs of our energy.
The staircase opened onto a vast circular platform bathed in sunlight. The simulated sky above was clear and blue, a stark contrast to the chaos we'd left behind. At the center of the platform stood Professor Zephyr, his golden eyes surveying the handful of students who had reached the summit. Among them, I recognized Soren's imposing silhouette and Elias's distinctive silver hair.
"The final survivors," Professor Zephyr announced as we stumbled onto the platform. His gaze swept over us, lingering a moment longer on me before continuing. "Beaten, broken, but unbowed."
I barely registered his words. The adrenaline that had sustained me was fading rapidly, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion that threatened to swallow me whole. The world tilted alarmingly, and I felt rather than saw Finn grab my arm to steady me.
"Twenty-two students," Zephyr continued, his voice echoing across the summit. "Twenty-two from three hundred. A worst yield than last year, but still acceptable."
He paced before us, hands clasped behind his back. "The purpose of these trials was not merely to test your magical prowess, though that was certainly a factor. We sought to observe your adaptability, your resilience, your willingness to face the impossible and find a way through."
For the first time since we've seen him, Professor Zephyr smiled. The expression transformed his severe features, softening the hard lines of his face and lighting his golden eyes with genuine warmth.
"To those who stand before me," he said, his voice carrying a note of pride that had been absent before, "I offer not just congratulations, but welcome. Welcome to the Academy of Arcanis, where the impossible is merely the first lesson."
I tried to focus on his words, to stand tall and receive this hard-won victory with dignity. But my body had other ideas. Darkness crept in from all sides, a soft, insistent pressure that could no longer be denied.
The last thing I registered was Finn's alarmed face as I pitched forward, consciousness slipping away like water through cupped hands. Welcome to Arcanis indeed, I thought distantly. I'll be sure to attend orientation... right after this nap.
Then merciful darkness claimed me, and I knew no more.