Extra To Protagonist

The helmets came off with a hiss of pressure, like the pods were reluctant to give them back to reality. Merlin blinked against the faint haze that lingered in his vision, the echo of a battlefield fading behind his eyes. The lights of the underground hall pressed into him, sterile and unblinking, a strange contrast to the dirt and blood of the simulation.

Across the row of pods, Nathan pulled his helmet off and dropped it onto the rest, his breath uneven. "That was… not fun."

Adrian was already on his feet, rolling his shoulders like the battle had been a warm-up. His grin was bright, sweat clinging to his brow. "Come on, Nate. We won. That's all that counts."

Liliana brushed her hair back, strands sticking to her cheeks. She didn't speak, but her calm nod carried the weight of agreement.

Elara alone hadn't moved yet. She removed her helmet with a slow, measured motion, violet eyes sweeping their surroundings, as if the fight hadn't ended. She looked at Merlin last. "You held back."

Merlin said nothing. He let the words hang, a quiet accusation that was also a truth.

The proctor's voice rang across the chamber. "Team Seven—remain ready. Next round begins shortly. You may hydrate."

The tension in the room shifted instantly, half the teams groaning, half already bickering among themselves. But above them, on the high dais where instructors sat in a semicircle, the atmosphere didn't soften. Morgana's gaze had not left Merlin since the first match ended.

Her lips curled faintly, the kind of expression that wasn't a smile but something far more dangerous. She leaned toward Vivienne, her voice low, a private murmur no student could hear.

"That boy… still breathing false patterns."

Vivienne's eyes narrowed, following Merlin's form as he stretched his arms slowly, deliberately. "He doesn't move like a first-year."

"Not even close," Morgana whispered.

Merlin ignored them. He had learned long ago that stares cut less deep than blades, so long as you didn't let them pierce.

The second round was called.

—

The pods sealed again. Darkness swallowed him. Then, light.

The new battlefield unfolded like a story written in stone. A ruined fortress. Crumbled walls, jagged gaps in the battlements, archways torn down and left like broken ribs. The air was thick with the sound of wind whistling through hollow cracks.

Merlin's boots hit uneven cobblestone. His team spawned in at the south courtyard, the echo of steel gates clanging shut behind them.

"Formation," Elara said immediately, her spear flashing to life in her hands. She didn't look at Merlin this time, she trusted him to follow, whether he wanted to or not.

Nathan twirled his daggers, grinning despite the nerves crackling off him. "Guess we don't get easy warm-ups twice."

He was right.

From the north archway, their opponents emerged, a team of five that looked nothing like the mismatched students of the earlier round. These ones moved together.

Armor fitted. Weapons chosen to balance. Their leader, a stocky boy with a broad axe, lifted his weapon high and barked an order the others obeyed without hesitation.

"Front line, then center. Don't break!"

Elara's eyes narrowed. "They're trained."

Merlin tilted his head. 'Not trained—conditioned. Someone drilled them until they learned to breathe the same rhythm.'

It was dangerous in its own way.

"Liliana," Elara snapped, "ward the left. Adrian—take right with Nathan. Merlin—" She paused. Her lips pressed thin. "Center."

He nodded once. No complaint.

The clash came fast.

Adrian roared as he swung his axe against the enemy front-liner, steel ringing against steel. Sparks leapt into the air. Nathan darted beside him, shadows gathering around his blades, forcing the enemy to split their attention.

Liliana's hands blurred, weaving water into a shield that spread across the courtyard like glass, catching the first volley of flame hurled by their flame user. Steam hissed, white mist curling low.

Merlin stepped into the mist.

His sword hummed in his hand, faint arcs of lightning skating along the blade's edge. He moved just enough, never too fast, never too sharp. When the enemy longsword came for his ribs, he parried and redirected with precision so clean it looked rehearsed.

When a second came for his neck, he ducked, countered with a strike that cut shallow but controlled.

The system's text flickered in the corner of his eye.

[Damage dealt: 27%]

[Opponent incapacitated.]

Merlin exhaled slowly. He could have ended it in one strike, but that wasn't the game here. Not yet.

Behind him, Nathan cursed as he barely avoided a hammer blow, Adrian dragging him back with a laugh. Liliana's barrier cracked under the next volley of fire, but she steadied it, her jaw tight.

"Elara!" Merlin called.

She was already moving. Her spear flashed silver in the mist, piercing straight through the enemy's front line, scattering their formation. The dude stumbled, faltering. Nathan lunged in, daggers carving arcs of shadow.

Merlin saw the axe swing coming before it did. He stepped forward. His blade rose, met steel, angled it aside with almost insulting ease.

The boy with the axe grunted, eyes wide as if he'd just realized the gap between them wasn't skill or luck. It was something else entirely.

Merlin leaned close enough for only him to hear. "…Sit down."

The flat of his blade slammed into the boy's chest. The system registered the impact with brutal honesty.

[Critical impact: Knockout.]

The boy hit the ground and didn't rise.

From there, the match unraveled.

The disciplined team lost their anchor. Their guy tried to recover, flinging flame wildly, but Liliana drowned it under a wall of water that hissed and boiled but held. Adrian's axe came down on their swordsman, and Nathan finished the job in a flash of shadow.

Two minutes later, it was over.

[Victory. Team Seven advances.]

The fortress dissolved. Stone became dust, wind became silence, and once again Merlin's vision went black.

—

When the pods released them, the hall rang with scattered cheers and mutters. The watching students had seen everything projected on the hovering screens above.

Nathan yanked his helmet off, sweat dripping down his temple. "Gods… that was insane."

Adrian slapped his back hard enough to make him stumble. "We crushed them! Did you see that spear thrust, Elara? Perfect timing."

Elara gave no answer, already scanning her team with that sharp violet gaze. She didn't need to speak; they understood her silence better than words.

But Morgana… Morgana had seen more.

Her chin rested on her hand, steel-blue eyes locked not on Elara, not on Nathan, not on any of themx only on Merlin.

"Six stars," she murmured under her breath. "He's carrying it like it's nothing."

Vivienne stiffened beside her. "Impossible. That's not—"

"It is," Morgana cut in, her voice low, certain. "He's hiding, but only barely. If he pulled harder, those fights would've lasted seconds, not minutes."

Reinhardt grunted, arms folded, watching the boy with narrowed eyes. "He holds his blade like a veteran, not a student. Something's wrong with him."

Morgana's lips curved, dangerous and amused. "Or something's right."

Below, Merlin sat on the pod's edge, towel draped around his neck, ignoring the murmurs in the crowd. His golden eyes flicked once to the instructors, then away, expression unreadable.

He knew they'd noticed. He also knew he couldn't stop them.

All he could do was keep walking the line.

—

The hall's announcer's voice boomed again. "Next rounds will proceed after a ten-minute break. Teams may rest."

Nathan collapsed onto the bench beside Merlin, groaning. "A ten-minute break? What are they trying to do, kill us?"

Adrian laughed, still buzzing with adrenaline. "If you're tired already, Nate, you're not gonna survive round three."

Liliana poured water into a glass and handed it to Merlin first without a word.

He blinked at her, then took it, sipping slowly. "…Thanks."

Her blue eyes met his for a second. Calm. Steady. Then she turned away, fixing her hair as if nothing happened.

Elara lingered standing, her spear leaning against the wall beside her. She hadn't spoken since the match ended. Merlin glanced up at her. She stared back, expression unreadable.

Finally, she said quietly, "You didn't use your full strength."

Merlin's jaw tightened. "…No."

Her gaze didn't waver. "You'll have to, eventually."

He didn't answer.

Because they both knew it was true.

—

The hum of the pod chamber filled Merlin's ears again, a strange comfort after the roar of victory. He lay back against the cradle of metal, helmet lowering, sealing him away. The dark took him whole.

Then, light.

The battlefield this time was not stone nor fortress, but living chaos.

A forest.

Tall pines rose like spears toward a silver sky, their crowns knitting together so tightly that the sun came down only in fractured shards. Mist coiled around the roots, thick and damp, every breath tasting of moss and wet earth. Birds cried high above, but they weren't natural. Their calls were jagged, programmed echoes meant to unsettle.

Merlin's boots crunched onto soft soil. His team materialized beside him: Elara already gripping her spear, Nathan flexing his daggers in his hands, Adrian cracking his knuckles with his axe slung across his back, and Liliana adjusting her robes before summoning a faint halo of water at her fingertips.

Elara spoke first, her voice low, carrying just enough authority to draw them all in. "Four teams."

Merlin glanced around, narrowing his eyes. He could feel it too, the air itself quivered with distant presence. Somewhere, others were breathing the same air, watching the same mist.

"This isn't a duel," Elara continued. "This is survival."

Nathan smirked despite the weight in her tone. "Then let's make sure it's not ours that ends."