Xyros’s eyes gleamed faintly, though his calm expression betrayed nothing. “I will do what I can, Zaria. Now, let us return to the task at hand.”

  She barely had time to process this revelation before a new voice—loud, brash, and entirely different—rang out, slicing through the air with a harsh, unrelenting edge.

  “Attention, TechNav leaders! Your first quest begins now. Locate the four spheres hidden within your area, using only your basic skills. Once you’ve secured all four, return them to your Game Mentor for further instruction. Good luck!”

  Zaria flinched, rubbing her temples as the noise jangled her nerves. “Of course,” she muttered, more to herself than Xyros, “there’s a quest already. No rest, no time to think.” She sighed, glancing up at him. “What exactly are these spheres?”

  Xyros’s gaze held steady, his faint smile tinged with pride. “They are your first real test, scattered throughout the arena. Retrieving them will teach you to harness and refine your basic skills. Think of it as a foundation.”

  “Lucky me,” she replied with an exaggerated cheer, rolling her eyes. Despite her attempt at humor, a knot of tension remained lodged in her chest.

  Xyros’s face softened, and he inclined his head. “Many TechNavs have walked this path. I’ve guided them all through the Nexus Trials.”

  Curiosity flared within her. She couldn’t resist asking, “What happens to them afterward? Do they…go home?”

  A shadow crossed his face, subtle but unmistakable. “Perhaps,” he replied, his voice distant. “But I’m bound to the Nexus. I have no knowledge of the world beyond.”

  Zaria’s brow furrowed. “No news, no music, no holoshows?”

  A faint smile played at his lips, softened by a memory she couldn’t place. “After what you’ll encounter here, you may find comfort in silence, Zaria.”

  With a sigh, she returned to the task at hand. “Alright, so… how am I supposed to find these spheres? I don’t have my datapad, and I don’t see any maps lying around.”

  Xyros’s lips quirked with amusement. “You won’t need your datapad. The game will keep you on track in its own way.” His eyes gleamed, a mischievous spark hidden in their depths. “But first, there’s something you need to understand about quests.”

  Zaria gave him a deadpan look. “Listen, all I want is a bed, a hot meal, and my ferret. If this involves a riddle or a puzzle, I’m out.”

  Xyros’s chuckle was soft, almost a purr. “Nothing of the sort. Just… focus.”

  He leaned forward, his tone shifting to something more serious. “In the Nexus, quests are divided into types. If a quest is given by the System AI, it’s compulsory. You must complete it. However, if another being in the Arena offers a quest, read the description carefully. These are voluntary but may come with rewards worth the risk. As the team leader, it’s up to you to decide if the risk is worth it.”

  Zaria paced back and forth, her boots scuffing against the smooth floor as she threw her hands into the air. “What team?” she snapped, spinning to face Xyros. Her frustration crackled in her voice, sharp and raw. “I’m a team of one! A leader with a so-called Game Mentor who can’t stop speaking in riddles and cryptic nonsense! And let’s not forget—no map. No guidance. Just, ‘Go find these spheres, Zaria!’” She jabbed her finger at the air as if stabbing at an invisible target. “Am I supposed to magically figure it out with zero help?”

  Her voice rose, echoing against the walls. “You want me to channel my technomancy? Great! Except nobody has bothered to explain what that actually means! All I’ve got is a lecture about potential and some stats I barely understand! How is that supposed to help me when the next swarm of killer scrap monsters comes at me?”

  Xyros remained seated, his expression serene, unmoved by the storm raging in front of him. He watched her with an infuriating calm, as though waiting for a tantrum to run its course.

  Zaria stopped pacing, planting her hands on her hips as she glared at him. “Do you even care?” she demanded, her voice cracking under the weight of her mounting exasperation. “Because right now, it feels like I’m being set up to fail. Again.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Xyros tilted his head slightly, finally speaking in his maddeningly even tone. “Feel better now?”

  The question, delivered so casually, made her want to scream. “Not even a little!” she shot back, her voice clipped.

  He raised an eyebrow, his calm gaze meeting her furious glare. “And did all of that accomplish anything?”

  “No!” Zaria snapped, throwing up her hands. “Of course not!”

  He rose slowly, the motion measured and deliberate, like the stillness before a storm. “Then let this be your first lesson,” he said, his voice steady but firm. “Frustration is a natural reaction, but indulging it is a waste of energy. Channel it. Learn to focus it into something productive—like your technomancy. That is where your true strength lies.”

  Zaria crossed her arms, her jaw tight. “Channel it, huh? Into what? Enlightenment?” she muttered sarcastically, her temper still smoldering.

  “Into action,” Xyros replied simply. His tone softened, but his words carried weight. “You are not without tools, Zaria. Use what you’ve already learned. Look beyond what frustrates you and see what lies beneath.”

  She opened her mouth to argue but stopped, his words hanging in the air. For all her anger, she couldn’t deny there was truth in them. She clenched her fists, exhaling sharply through her nose. “Fine,” she muttered, though her tone was laced with defiance. “But don’t expect me to stop asking for a damn map.”

  A flicker of amusement crossed Xyros’s face, gone so quickly she might have imagined it. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said smoothly. “Now, shall we begin?”

  She straightened, steadying herself. “Fine. But one last question—what happened to my ship, my crew… and Walter?”

  His expression softened, though an unreadable flicker crossed his gaze. “They’re safe enough for now. As for your ferret… let’s just say he’s likely causing some trouble wherever he is.”

  Zaria’s fists clenched, swallowing her frustration. “You know, for a mentor, you’re seriously lacking in answers.”

  Xyros’s chuckle was warm, almost fond. “Trust me, Zaria. One day, you’ll thank me for it.”

  Taking a final deep breath, she steadied herself. Whatever it takes, she thought, feeling a spark of determination ignite. She was ready.

  Before she could turn toward the Guild’s exit, Xyros stepped in front of her, his expression serious.

  “One more thing, Zaria,” he said, his voice quieter yet carrying a weight that made her pause. “Mastering technomancy isn’t just about getting through the Trials or learning a few skills. Technomancy is… the essence of this place. It is the only true power here, the one language the Nexus understands, and, in many cases, the only thing that can keep you alive.”

  She furrowed her brow, curiosity and apprehension warring within her. “Why is it so important? I mean, sure, it’s powerful, but isn’t this all just a game to the Va’Skari? They’re judging us on survival, right?”

  Xyros shook his head slowly, a faint glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “Survival is only one layer. To the Va’Skari, technomancy is proof of evolution, a sign of adaptability and intelligence. Mastering it is a testament to whether you—and by extension, your species—can rise to the challenge, adapt to foreign concepts, and become more than you are. In the Nexus, technomancy is a language of respect, and if you do not learn to speak it, the Nexus will be a relentless enemy.”

  Her gaze sharpened, realizing he wasn’t exaggerating. This wasn’t about flashy powers or entertainment; it was about survival and legacy.

  Xyros continued, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. “Beyond the physical trials, the Nexus Arena is built on technomantic energy. Every creature, every mechanism, every test you encounter here will draw on it. Knowing how to channel, wield, and—more importantly—command technomancy is the only way you’ll make it out of here. The more you hone your abilities, the more control you’ll have over your surroundings. Without it, you’re just prey in a hunter’s arena.”

  A chill ran through her as she imagined facing down those creatures she’d encountered earlier—the Scrappings, the shifting landscapes, even the System AI itself—without a solid grasp on technomancy. She had assumed her intelligence alone would be enough, but Xyros’s words made her see the reality: intelligence would mean nothing if she couldn’t adapt it to this strange, dangerous place.

  “Okay,” she said quietly, letting his words settle. “I get it. I’ll give it everything I have.”

  Xyros nodded, satisfaction flickering in his eyes. “Good. Remember, technomancy isn’t just power; it’s instinct, a connection to this arena’s very core. As you progress, you’ll need to learn its nuances. Feel it. Let it guide you.”

  She looked up at him, a mix of determination and resolve filling her chest. “I won’t waste this chance. I’ll master it.”

  A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he stepped aside. “Then you’re ready. Let’s go outside and get your training started. The last thing I need you doing is burning down my home. And remember—adaptability is your strongest weapon here.”

  With that, Zaria stepped forward, now fully aware of the gravity of what lay ahead. She was ready. She took a slow, deep breath, steadying herself as the fear ebbed, giving way to a smoldering determination. “Fine. What do I need to do?”