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to be another traumatic experience to add to the list, wasn’t in fact, traumatic at all. It was maybe even...nice?

The girl strutted up close to him and offered her hand.

“I’m Casey,” she said.

“I’m... Max,” he said, triumphing over his struggling hormonal brain to remember his own goddamn name.

She giggled again and her cheeks turned red.

“This is Toto by the way,” she said, pointing to a cute gerbil poking its head out of the pocket of her dress.

Max nodded. “Nice to meet you both.”

Casey smiled at him once more.

“How did you get the paper plane to stay in the air for so long?” asked Max.

Casey’s eyes widened at his question.

“Wow, the rumors are true,” she said. “You really are from the outer-rim. Anyone else would’ve been able to guess.”

She took the piece of paper out of Max’s hands and refolded it back into a plane. She then threw it in the air and then focused on it. The plane did a lap around the courtyard.

“I’m what they call an airbringer,” said Casey. “My trait lets me manipulate air. My profile says it’s an uncommon trait. All of the four elemental traits are considered uncommon, actually.”

So cool, thought Max. He was piecing together the way traits worked. They must have their own ranking system going from common to unique. Uncommon was one notch above common. Regardless, the ability to manipulate an element sounded awesome and Max was a little jealous.

“So, what’s your—”

Casey’s question was cut short by a blonde girl in a track suit, knocking into her shoulder as she walked past.

“Stay out of my way, fake-vein,” muttered the blonde girl.

“Who was that?” asked Max.

“Sybil Westley,” sighed Casey. “Don't mind her. You’ll get used to her type soon enough around here. Uh oh, speaking of which—”

Casey’s words were cut off by a new voice.

“Oi, new kid!”

Max became extra alert once more. He had wrongly interpreted Casey’s airplane prank as hostile, but he could immediately hear the venom in the other kid’s voice.

Whoever was talking to them now was definitely not trying to become friends.

Max turned around and half-expected to see his former tormentor Seth standing behind him. Instead, he saw a skinny pale kid with light blond hair parted across his forehead. He was wearing a yellow tie and looked dressed more for prep school than an academy that trained people to fight monsters in a magical tower.

Max didn’t even grant the boy a proper response, merely glaring at him.

“My mates and I were debating on what kind of trait you have,” said the boy. “They think it’s uncommon, but I have a feeling it’s rare. So tell us.”

The kid’s so-called “mates” were three thuggish-looking guys standing behind him. They looked less like actual friends and more like hired bodyguards.

“I’m sorry,” said Max. “Who are you?”

The boy scowled at Max. “Are you a bit slow, new kid? I’m Cyrus Archer. You must have heard of me.”

Casey whispered in his ear. “The Archer family is one of the most powerful and prestigious families in the tower-zone. His dad is one of the few A-ranked climbers in the city. Cyrus is said to be a prodigy. He’s not someone you want to mess with, even though he is a jerky jerkface.”

“Stop muttering to yourselves,” said the boy. “You are talking to your betters. Don’t you know any manners?”

Ugh. This guy sucked, thought Max. Which wasn’t a surprise as he’d met Cyrus’ father already. Samuel Archer. The man who had tried to thwart him from even getting into the academy in the first place.

Being an asshole must run in the family then.

Max figured he should end the conversation as quickly as possible.

“Good to meet you, Cyrus,” lied Max. “I’m Max and my trait is slice.”

Max figured there was no reason to tell him the truth and as far as he’d seen, slice was a pretty badass trait, so hopefully that would keep the boy off his back.

The kid’s eyes widened at that before he full-on guffawed with smug laughter. He held his stomach theatrically as if what Max had just said was so funny it was hurting him.

Cyrus wiped a tear from his eyes. “Oh man, that’s too good. I guess both my mates and myself were wrong. Slice! The most common trait there is. What a loser!”

Max was shocked. Slice wasn’t considered a good trait? Sakura was a slicer and one of the strongest climbers he knew.

“And look who he’s mates with,” Cyrus laughed, pointing then at Casey. “A commoner and a fake-vein. What a match! It’s too much.”

Casey bristled at the boy’s comments.

There was that word again, thought Max. Fake-vein.

What were they all talking about?

He was about to retaliate against Cyrus’ condescension when the academy doors swung open and a man stepped out.

The whole crowd of teenagers went silent.

The man had spiky matte hair and wore an unzipped black parka with a white undershirt beneath it. He wore a necklace with a silver dog tag. A burning cigarette hung between his lips. He looked to be in his mid to late thirties. He had a gold badge with the letter C engraved on it pinned to his jacket.

“Good morning,” said the man. “So you lot are all here to become climbers, are ya? Well, let me tell you what it means to be a climber. To be a climber is to face some of the most ruthless monsters and even deadlier warriors—fellow climbers from other floors, other worlds, and, of course, rogue climbers from Zestiris. You need to be willing to kill. To be merciless. They call this the climber academy with an exam at the end. Make no mistake: the whole term is an exam. Starting right now.”

24

The group of students was stunned.

“The exam starts now!?” said a nearby voice.

“I thought you were supposed to learn stuff at an academy and then get tested! What the heck is this!?”

Max looked around in shock. None of the students had been prepared for testing to begin so soon; but they still had no

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