testing out first person writing.

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes that morning was the quiet. Not silence—quiet. That subtle stillness that only happens before something important is about to begin. The air felt heavier than usual, the light from the dorm window sharp and filtered, spilling over the wooden floor in narrow bars.

Today was the first full day on the private exam island.

But more importantly: today was the point where everything officially began.

I rose from my bed slowly, stretching out the stiffness from the previous day's trip and settling the familiar weight of responsibility in my chest. I didn't bother checking the time. I knew instinctively that I had woken early—earlier than Lucy, earlier than Liza, earlier than most of the academy students who still treated this trip like some kind of vacation.

This wasn't a field trip.

This island exam was supposed to be the hardest challenge of the academy year, a culmination of everything we'd trained for—yet after the council meeting and the strange behavior of the exam committee, my instincts were buzzing with something else. Something felt off. Something wasn't being explained. And something told me the island wasn't just a test.

I got dressed quietly, tying the light academy-issued jacket over my uniform, adjusting my boots, and fastening the belt that held my two standard knives. The academy allowed minimal weaponry on day one, claiming it was to "test foundation-level survival approaches."

A polite way of saying:

If you panic, you fail.

If you die, you die.

If you complain, you're weak.

I closed the door behind me and stepped into the cool morning breeze outside the boys' wing of the temporary island dorms. Dew clung to the edges of the grass, and the path leading toward the assembly point still held the imprinted footprints of students who had woken even earlier than I had.

I wasn't surprised. Class A students were always awake before dawn, trying to one-up each other. But today, I needed to be awake before them—not to compete, but to understand the island better.

I walked toward the shoreline, wanting to take in as much of the island as possible before the others arrived.

The waves broke in slow, steady rhythms, brushing against the rocks with enough force to sound alive but not enough to disturb the sand. A thin mist hung over the treeline at the edge of the forest—not thick enough to obscure, just enough to veil the details.

A forest that density did not happen naturally on an island this small.

There it was again—that feeling.

Something was wrong.

I stood there long enough to hear footsteps approaching from behind. Light ones. Hesitant. Then a familiar voice cut through the breeze.

"Arios… you're up early."

I turned slightly. Lucy stood there, rubbing one eye with the back of her hand while the other eye stayed focused on me. Her hair was tied loosely to one side, and she was still in the academy jacket but with the zipper halfway open and the sleeves half-rolled, giving her that effortlessly put-together look she always seemed to have.

"Did I wake you?" I asked.

"No," she said, stepping closer and brushing her hair behind her ear. "I woke up and you weren't inside, so… well, I figured you would be here."

She said it casually, but the way she avoided my eyes told me she had run over the moment she noticed I was gone.

Lucy always tried to pretend she wasn't as worried as she really was.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

"I slept fine," I replied. "Just needed time to think."

She nodded quietly, following my gaze out toward the forest. "The island is beautiful…"

"Too beautiful," I said.

Lucy blinked. "Too beautiful?"

I didn't know how to explain it without sounding paranoid. But Lucy, being Lucy, caught on before I even finished thinking of the words.

"You think something's wrong," she murmured softly.

I didn't deny it.

Because denial would've been pointless.

"It feels curated," I said. "Like the way the dungeon floors felt right before they turned into an illusion trap. Natural, but too perfectly natural."

Lucy's expression tightened. Not fear—just seriousness. "Should we tell Liza?"

"Not yet," I answered. "Not until I understand more."

Lucy accepted that, stepping closer until her shoulder brushed mine.

That small contact grounded me more than I expected.

"I trust you," she said quietly.

Before I could respond, another set of footsteps rapidly approached. Lighter. Snappier. Less hesitant.

Liza appeared from the path leading to the dorms, her expression sharp with mild irritation.

"For the love of—Arios, you couldn't wait until morning briefing?" she complained, hands on her hips. "Lucy woke me up by accident."

Lucy turned pink. "I didn't mean to—"

"You shook me like I was in cardiac arrest."

Lucy's face reddened further. "I wanted to see if you were awake!"

"That's not how you check!" Liza snapped.

Then she turned to me.

"You. You're the reason both of us are awake before the sun is even properly up."

"Sorry," I said.

"You're not sorry," she countered. "You're worried."

I sighed. "Maybe."

Liza tilted her head, assessing me. Really assessing me. She had the unsettling ability to read people even better than Lucy did—but unlike Lucy, she didn't soften her delivery.

"You saw something," she said flatly. "Or felt something."

The wind shifted between us.

I didn't answer.

I didn't need to.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "The forest?"

"Yes."

"What about it?"

"Everything," I said. "The mist. The density. The way the shoreline curves inward. The trees all grow in a pattern that shouldn't happen naturally."

Lucy frowned. "Pattern?"

"Engineered terrain," I explained. "Someone arranged the island."

Liza folded her arms. "But the academy built this exam years ago."

I looked at the horizon.

"That's what worries me."

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable—it was heavy, with thought, with possibility, with the kind of tension that only settled between people who trusted each other completely but didn't know what was coming.

Liza broke it first.

"Well," she said with a forced exhale, "whatever the academy's hiding, they'll slip up sooner or later. And when they do…" She smirked faintly. "We'll be ready."

Lucy nodded. "Together."

Their certainty steadied me more than anything else could have. I hadn't realized how much I relied on it—on them—until moments like this.

We headed back toward the main assembly area as the sky brightened, the morning warming around us. Other students emerged too, trickling in small groups, some tense, some excited, some pretending they weren't terrified.

When the announcement bell rang across the island grounds, all conversations stopped.

"All examinees," the voice boomed from the central speakers, "report to the evaluation grounds for Phase One."

We joined the crowd moving forward, but I felt eyes on me—multiple sets. Whispers followed us. I caught pieces of conversations, the usual mix of curiosity, suspicion, and resentment.

"Is that him?"

"The guy from Class D?"

"He's the one who—"

"No way he—"

"Why's he with two of them?"

"Doesn't matter, they'll all drop out this exam anyway."

Lucy stiffened at my side, shoulders tensing. Liza clicked her tongue.

"They're idiots," she muttered.

I didn't respond. I didn't need to. Words wouldn't change anything.

We reached the front rows just as the lead proctor stepped onto the elevated platform, accompanied by several assistant instructors. They wore neutral expressions, but I recognized a few faces—some supportive, some hostile, some unreadable.

But all of them were hiding something.

The lead proctor began explaining the exam structure:

Survival tasks.

Exploration requirements.

Combat scenarios.

Team strategy assessments.

But the part that caught my attention was the one most students ignored.

"Terrain adjustments will occur dynamically."

I glanced at Lucy.

She had noticed too.

Liza as well.

Dynamic adjustments weren't normal. Not for a controlled academy exam. That meant someone was actively changing the island as the test progressed—reshaping it, redirecting it, manipulating it in real time.

Just like an illusion.

Just like the dungeon.

Except this wasn't a dungeon.

This was supposed to be real.

When the briefing ended, students scattered to the designated preparation points. I remained still for a moment, feeling the breeze shift again.

Lucy tugged lightly on my sleeve. "Arios? You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Let's move."

We walked through the makeshift camp, weaving between groups of students until we reached our assigned tent. The moment we stepped inside, the three of us sat in a circle, instinctively mirroring the formation we used when strategizing during dungeon runs.

Lucy broke the silence. "So… what's our plan?"

My mind was already piecing together possibilities. Risks. Routes. Threats. The strange forest. The engineered terrain. The dynamic adjustments. The academy's uncharacteristic secrecy.

Liza leaned forward. "We're not attacking anything on day one. That's stupid."

"Agreed," I said. "Today we observe."

"Observe what exactly?" Lucy asked.

"Everything," I replied. "Animals. Terrain shifts. The fog lines. The proctors' locations. Student patterns. The natural mana flow—if there even is one."

Lucy's brows knit. "You're thinking it's artificial again?"

"Not necessarily," I said. "But whoever modified the dungeon for Instructor Garron got access from somewhere."

"And you think the same someone is involved here," Liza concluded.

I didn't answer.

I didn't need to.

Because she was right.

The academy had enemies. Political ones. Hidden ones. Ones who wanted Regulus reinstated, ones who resented the council president, ones who thought students were disposable, ones who believed Class D was worthless. And if someone with the ability to manipulate illusions or terrain was operating inside the academy walls, then this island exam was the perfect opportunity to hide their actions.

A secluded island.

Limited oversight.

Dozens of students as test subjects.

Plenty of places to bury mistakes.

Liza leaned back on her arms. "Well, if something happens, we'll deal with it."

Lucy gave a small, soft smile. "We always do."

I exhaled slowly.

Yeah.

We always did.

When the horn sounded again, signaling the beginning of Phase One exploration, we rose together and stepped outside into the brightening morning air. The forest loomed ahead of us, the mist shifting in faint, unnatural swirls.

Students rushed in groups. Class A moved like a well-trained machine. Class B followed confidently. Class C shuffled nervously. And Class D…

Well, Class D was the only one that kept looking at me like I was supposed to save them.

Lucy tugged my sleeve lightly again. "Ready?"

Liza cracked her knuckles. "Let's make them regret underestimating us."

I stepped forward, the forest path opening in front of me like a waiting mouth.

"I'm ready," I said.

Even if the island wasn't.

Even if the exam wasn't what they claimed.

Even if every instinct in my body screamed that something was watching from inside the trees.

I walked anyway.

Lucy and Liza flanked me on either side.

And that was how Chapter 151 began—

With the three of us stepping into the forest, the mist closing around our path, and the island exam quietly revealing that this wasn't going to be a test.

It was going to be something far worse.

And I needed to be ready.

No matter what waited deeper inside.

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