CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE TEST

Despite it occurring in his head, the conflict had been simmering for days, just beneath the surface. But in the sterile light of the PRT testing chamber, it finally boiled over.

Despite it occurring in his head, the conflict had been simmering for days, just beneath the surface. But in the sterile light of the PRT testing chamber, it finally boiled over.

Greg pushed himself up from the mat, his vision swimming for a second before snapping into focus. His ribs screamed where Aegis had landed his last hit, just as he'd been trying to bring up his Aura.

Across the room, the Ward had already reset his stance, patient but expectant. Above them, the observation window gleamed like a judgmental eye, hiding whoever stood behind it. Armsmaster, probably, taking notes. Maybe others too. Analysts. Command staff. People with power and opinions.

Then came the voices.

Weiss, crisp and demanding. "You need a strategy, Greg. A plan. Charging in blindly isn't going to impress anyone."

Blake followed, her voice a cautious whisper in the back of his mind. "They're watching you. Judging everything. Be careful who you trust or what you show."

Yang, brash as always. "What he needs is to stop holding back. Come on, Greg. Hit harder. Make them see you."

And Ruby, bright and hopeful. Nice, too. "Don't overthink it. You've got all this power—use it! Have fun with it!"

Four voices. Four philosophies. Each one pulling him in a different direction. He was trying to make them all proud, trying to follow them all at once, and failing.

Greg clenched his fists. His Aura flared, knitting bruised tissue and cracked ribs back together beneath his skin. But Aegis didn't wait. The Ward lunged again, fist already cutting through the air toward Greg's guard.

Weiss barked, "Dodge left!"

Blake countered, "No, feint and disengage!"

Yang roared, "Punch through him!"

Ruby cheered, "Trust your instincts!"

Greg faltered. Just for a second. Just long enough.

Aegis's knuckles crashed into his jaw. His head snapped back. Pain flared white-hot. His semblance stuttered between options: flickers of red petals, half-formed glyphs, and a blur of a clone that vanished before it could even stand. His footwork came apart. His timing fractured. There was no flow, just clumsiness.

"Focus!" Weiss snapped.

"You're making a scene," Blake warned.

"Get back up!" Yang shouted.

"You're doing fine," Ruby tried to reassure, but her voice wavered with doubt.

All of them shouted over each other now, their voices colliding, echoing, becoming indistinct. Becoming noise. A cacophony in his skull.

Aegis didn't let up. He pivoted, dropped low, and drove his knee into Greg's ribs. The impact blasted the air from his lungs and launched him backward. He hit the ground hard and rolled past the mat.

For a moment, the world spun. The voices… finally fell silent.

Greg lay still, chest rising and falling in shallow gasps, the cool flooring pressing against his cheek. And for a brief second, the quiet was almost a relief. No orders. No pressure. No expectations.

Then the intercom crackled to life.

Greg tried to sit up.

"Test concluded." Armsmaster's voice was flat, impersonal. "Aegis, debrief in Conference Room Three. Arknight, report to Medical for evaluation. A guard will escort you."

Greg closed his eyes, falling back down.

For the first time since gaining his powers, he wished the voices would just stop.