3.11 – Fear Itself

Aurora stood frozen, staring at the destruction before her. The streets of San Isidro, warped and broken, stretched out before her in a grim, chaotic expanse. Buildings had collapsed into heaps of shattered concrete and twisted steel. Fires raged in the distance, staining the skyline with thick plumes of black smoke. Screams echoed faintly in the wind, lost beneath the sound of cracking pavement and the deep, bone-rattling tremors that signaled his presence.

Gravitas.

A living juggernaut, wading through the wreckage of the city like a force of nature, his mere presence warping gravity itself. Chunks of asphalt and steel floated around him like debris caught in an invisible maelstrom. Each step he took caused the ground to shatter beneath him, sending shockwaves through the ruined streets. His broad, hulking frame was clad in heavy, dark armor, reinforced with bands of metal that looked like they had been ripped from buildings and fused to his form. His rugged, battle-worn face framed by graying hair were clearly visible, his eyes burning with a savage intensity that sent a chill through Aurora’s core.

This was the monster who had killed her mother.

Aurora’s breath hitched. Her fists clenched at her sides as rage warred with something far worse—fear.

For the first time in a long time, she felt small.

In her mind, Black Angel kept taunting her.

There he is… the one who made you suffer so. Look at him. He has no regrets. No remorse. If you let me, I can make him suffer in ways you never could imagine. Such a good girl. Too good for any world.

Aurora swallowed hard, her wings trembling.

Shut up, she growled internally.

But Black Angel wasn’t finished.

You’re afraid. Her voice was velvet, whispering against the back of Aurora’s skull. Good. You should be. Alone, you’re a gnat compared to him. You think you can win by fighting fair? He will crush you, just like he did your mother. Do you truly think Vanguard can save you again? You are no Vanguard. I know you better than anyone else in this world.

Aurora’s stomach twisted.

No. She wasn’t that weak child anymore.

She exhaled sharply and ignited her aura, its golden glow pushing against the invisible weight pressing down on her. The oppressive force of Gravitas’ gravity field made every movement sluggish, like she was pushing through thick molasses. He was already aware of her—she could feel his gaze settling on her, assessing her like she was an insignificant bug.

Then, he grinned.

"Another one?" His voice was deep, resonant, vibrating in her bones. "What do they call you? Doesn’t matter. You’re not Vanguard." His words echoed Black Angel’s. It was unnerving to hear his mother’s murderer speak like this.

Aurora’s eyes burned as she lifted her hands. "No. But I don’t need to be him."

Gravitas laughed, a deep, guttural sound that shook the debris around him. "That’s cute. Let’s see how long that confidence lasts."

He lunged.

Aurora barely had time to react before the ground exploded beneath her. She shot into the air as a wave of sheer force blasted outward, sending cars and rubble flying. She dodged left, weaving between floating chunks of asphalt, but he was fast—too fast for something so massive.

Gravitas extended his arm and the air around her warped.

Aurora dropped like a stone.

Gravity wrenched at her limbs, slamming her against the pavement with a sickening CRUNCH. The impact rattled her bones, her personal barrier flaring as it absorbed most of the damage, but the weight pressing down on her was suffocating. She gasped, struggling to move as the force increased—pinning her down, squeezing the air from her lungs.

Gravitas loomed over her, his shadow stretching long in the flickering firelight. "You think you’re strong? That you can stop me, heroling?" He knelt down, the force doubling, making Aurora’s vision blur. "Tell me, little bird, what makes you any different from the others I’ve crushed?"

Aurora gritted her teeth.

And smirked.

"Because," she wheezed, "this bird can fly."

Her aura erupted, a surge of radiant energy blasting outward. The field of gravity around her buckled for a fraction of a second—just enough.

Aurora shot straight up, flipping midair and launching a focused burst of golden energy directly into Gravitas’ chest.

BOOM.

The impact sent him skidding backward, tearing through asphalt, but he didn’t fall. His boots carved deep trenches into the street as he came to a stop, rolling his shoulders.

"Not bad," he muttered, cracking his neck.

Aurora’s heart pounded. That should have knocked him off his feet.

He grinned.

"Let’s go again."

Aurora had no time to think. He was already moving again.

Gravitas stomped forward, and the entire street bent toward him. Pavement rippled as though reality itself was breaking apart. The air became heavier, denser, forcing Aurora’s wings to beat harder just to keep her aloft.

He’s warping gravity more than before. He’s playing with me!

She had only seconds.

Aurora pushed forward, weaving between floating chunks of asphalt. She twisted midair and fired another concentrated blast, aiming for his exposed face. A direct hit might blind him—

Gravitas flicked his wrist.

The blast was stopped in an instant.

Her energy froze mid-flight, caught in an unseen force, its golden light distorted. Then, with a clench of his fist, it reversed, shooting back toward her like a railgun shell.

Aurora had no time to dodge.

BOOM.

The impact sent her spiraling backward, her shield barely holding as she crashed through the skeletal remains of an old office building. Glass shattered. Metal groaned as she hit a support beam, twisting it like a pretzel before tumbling out the other side.

Her vision swam. Dizzy.

"He redirected my shot?! How the hell—"

WHAM.

Gravitas hit her like a freight train out of the blue.

The sheer force of his punch folded her in half, sending her rocketing across the broken cityscape. Her shield shrieked under the strain as she smashed through three buildings before skidding to a stop in the rubble of an abandoned intersection.

She gasped, struggling to breathe. Her ribs burned.

Above her, Gravitas loomed, stepping through the wreckage like an unstoppable force. He wasn’t even winded.

"Come on," he taunted. "You were talking a lot before. Where’s that confidence now?"

Aurora forced herself to sit up, spitting dust.

Black Angel's voice slithered into her thoughts.

You’re pathetic.

Aurora clenched her fists.

Look at you. Look at him. He’s barely even trying, and you’re already struggling to stand.

Aurora gritted her teeth.

Just let me in. You want revenge? You want power? I can give you that right now. Just. Let. Me. IN.

"Shut UP!" Aurora screamed, shoving Black Angel back into the recesses of her mind.

Her aura flared violently, gold energy sparking around her like an electrical storm. She forced herself upright, her wings spreading wide, shaking off the pain.

No. She wouldn't break. Not here. Not against him.

Gravitas saw the defiance in her eyes and grinned. "Good. Fight back. It’s always more fun that way."

Aurora rocketed forward, but instead of attacking head-on, she twisted sharply, barreling around him in tight loops.

Speed. She had speed.

Gravitas tried to track her, his gravity pulses whipping outward like invisible shockwaves. But she was faster.

Dodge. Weave. Counter.

She was a blur of golden light, moving too fast for him to lock her down.

Then—her opening finally appeared!

Aurora dove, flipping underneath him, grabbing onto his massive wrist before he could react.

She poured her energy into his arm—not a blast, but pure force.

Gravitas staggered, his footing thrown off as his own gravity pulse was interrupted.

Her wings blazed, her barrier hardened—and she LIFTED HIM.

For a single, glorious second, Gravitas was airborne, by her own hands.

His eyes widened in shock. "What—?"

Aurora threw him.

BOOM.

Gravitas slammed into the pavement, his own power betraying him. The gravity around him compressed, folding the very ground inward. He crushed himself.

Aurora hovered above, panting, heart hammering. She had done it. She had taken him off his feet.

For the first time, fear flickered across his face.

And then—

His lips curled into a grin while he lay on the ground.

"Not bad," he muttered. "But—"

His own gravity aura exploded outward.

Aurora’s stomach dropped.

Gravitas ROARED, the force of his power erasing everything around him.

Buildings collapsed. The very air ripped apart as gravity became almost a black hole of pure destruction. Although no singularity was opened, his power was so overwhelming, she could feel it yanking at her.

Aurora tried to move, to escape, but—

Her wings wouldn't carry her.

The pull was too strong.

Her vision darkened as the gravity exerted so much force on her even the blood in her veins was being pulled and momentarily halted.

She was going to be crushed.

Pathetic, Black Angel whispered, her laughter dark and cruel. And Dragonmage was talking about figments. Hah… This is how you die. At the hands of a mere FIGMENT.

Aurora’s body screamed.

Everything broke apart—

And then—

The simulation cut out, leaving her a mess on the ground. She collapsed instantly, hurting worse than ever.

Aurora gasped, suddenly standing in the plaza, back in The Kitchen.

The destruction was gone. No fires. No collapsing buildings. No Gravitas.

Dragonmage stood before her, arms folded, his expression unreadable.

"...Apologies," he said after a beat. "The system lagged. It took longer to terminate the simulation than expected."

Aurora stared at him, her mind still in the fight, her body shaking on the cobbles.

"That was… beyond—cruel," she rasped.

Dragonmage sighed. "It was meant to be beyond your capabilities. I needed to see how you handled true adversity. Would you break? Would you lose control?" His eyes narrowed. "Would you let her take over?"

Aurora flinched.

Dragonmage stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

"You didn’t."

Aurora swallowed.

Dragonmage exhaled, lifting his other hand. Green dragon-shaped light curled around her wounds, knitting them shut. Intertwined Asian serpents danced in the air and sunk into her body and the pain faded.

"You’ve passed this test. It seems Fate saw fit to be harsh and stern today. I am truly sorry." he murmured.

Aurora was silent for a long moment before nodding. "...Thanks—sir." she said quietly.

Dragonmage straightened. "You're dismissed. Let the others know the tests are postponed until dinner, if you have the energy."

Aurora turned, stepping away—but in her heart, she thanked him.

Because he had forced her to face it.

The fear. The rage. The ghosts of her past.

She would be stronger.

And while not today, someday… when the real Gravitas stood before her—

She would win.

Aurora made her way back toward the dorms, her steps slow, deliberate. Her body still hummed with residual tension, the echoes of the fight with Gravitas lingering in her muscles. She clenched and unclenched her fists, feeling the phantom pull of crushing gravity, the sheer helplessness that had nearly swallowed her whole.

She hated that feeling.

The hallways of the west wing were quiet, save for the soft hum of hidden technology keeping The Kitchen’s systems running. The muted glow of the artificial lighting buzzed softly, casting long shadows as she turned the last corner toward their room.

Asami was already inside, soaking in the jacuzzi, looking utterly at ease. The steam curled lazily around her, and next to the tub, her doll sat on a folded towel, munching on the last of the cookies from earlier, back when the hologram was functioning. There was no hot chocolate. Asami probably would have been enjoying a steaming mug if she was back online.

Asami’s violet eyes flicked toward Aurora as she entered, taking in her slightly disheveled appearance. “You look like you got run over.”

Aurora sighed heavily, kicking off her sandals. “Felt like it too.”

“Did Dragonmage fight you himself?”

Aurora nodded, stretching her arms before peeling off her faux suit and slipping into the warm water with a satisfied groan. There were some aches that even Dragonmage’s healing skills couldn’t heal. Rather, maybe she was suffering from the lingering sense of being wounded.

Asami tilted her head, swirling her fingers in the water. “What’d he do? Lecture you to death?”

Aurora let out a breathy laugh, sinking further into the jacuzzi, letting the heat soothe the dull ache in her muscles. “That would’ve been preferable.” She cracked one eye open. “He threw me against Gravitas.”

Asami’s hand paused mid-swirl. “…The Gravitas? Are you lying?”

“The very same.”

The smirk on Asami’s lips faltered. “Well... That is... cruel. I assume you did not win.”

Aurora snorted, running a hand through her damp hair. “What do you think?”

“I think Dragonmage has a twisted sense of training.”

Aurora sighed, closing her eyes. “Tell me about it.”

The door clicked open again, and Akari shuffled inside, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her messy hair stuck up wildly, and she yawned so hard it looked painful.

“Tests are postponed until dinner,” Aurora mumbled, not even bothering to lift her head.

Akari blinked, still waking up. “Huh?”

“Dragonmage has to fix something with the training system. Even the hologram hostess seems to be out of order. He sent me to tell everyone. Too bad for Apex and Rook. I don’t have the energy to get out of this bath for a solid hour.”

Akari let out a relieved sigh and practically collapsed onto her bed. “Thank the kami…” She hugged her pillow. “I wasn’t ready to function today… Good night.”

Aurora peeked at her, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “Told you sneaking out was a bad idea.”

Akari waved a lazy hand. “No regrets…”

Asami smirked, stretching in the water. “Well, since we have some free time, maybe I should go back to bed too.”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “You do that. I’m staying right here for now.”

Asami hummed thoughtfully, then stood up, grabbing a towel. “Do not fall asleep in the spa, Angel Girl.”

Aurora just sank further into the water, watching the waves crash against the Japanese coastline outside the window.

This grueling day of The Kitchen was over.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges—but she was ready. Maybe this meant she’d catch a break and Dragonmage would only focus on picking on Akari, Rook and Apex. Considering Apex’s attitude earlier, Aurora couldn’t summon much sympathy for her, not to mention thinking about Rook’s terrible military-style wake up call. She thought Apex was her friend. She worried for Akari, if he was going to be half as harsh with her then she was in for a rough ride.

For now, she would let herself breathe and relax.