Infinite: Academy Vol.6

Opponent: Cadet Travis Blaze.

Danny read it over her shoulder and went still. Zelden’s eyes flicked up from his own packet—he hadn’t been assigned Blaze. Relief and frustration crossed his face so quickly that Kaidance almost missed it.

“You drew him,” Danny said softly.

Kaidance’s heart hammered hard enough to hurt. “Looks like the Academy wants a show.”

Danny’s voice sharpened. “Or wants to cull you.”

Kaidance folded the packet carefully. “They can try.”

Zelden stepped closer, his expression controlled but tense. “He’s not like the others.”

Kaidance tilted her head. “Good.”

Zelden’s nostrils flared—almost imperceptible. “Good?” he repeated. “Blaze doesn’t get emotional. He doesn’t chase. He doesn’t panic. He wins because he denies you the chance to change the shape of the fight.”

Danny nodded grimly. “He’ll force you into standard doctrine.”

Kaidance’s grin was a flash of teeth. “Then I’ll fight outside it.”

Danny caught her arm—not hard, but enough to stop her. “Listen to me. Unconventional is fine. Suicidal isn’t.”

Kaidance met his eyes and, for a moment, let the bravado fall. “I need this,” she said quietly.

Danny’s grip loosened. “We all do.”

Zelden’s voice was low. “Then survive it.”

The stadium day arrived like a storm.

Cinder Dome was one of the Academy’s largest simulators, a colossal sphere lined with projection lattices and gravitational projectors. The stands were packed—not only with cadets but with overseers, instructors, and silent figures in officer uniforms whose insignia didn’t match Academy ranks. The air buzzed with whispers and wagers.

Kaidance stood in the staging bay beside her mecha, helmet under her arm, listening to the distant roar of the crowd through the walls. Her unit’s plating had been customised just enough to feel like hers—red striping across the shoulders, a modified thruster response curve that every tech had warned her not to touch.

Danny stood with her, arms folded. Zelden stood on the other side, posture rigid.

Across the bay, separated by a corridor of space, Travis Blaze arrived.

He wasn’t tall in an intimidating way. He wasn’t broad in a threatening way. He was simply… composed. Dark hair cut short, face calm, eyes like polished stone. He moved like someone who had never once doubted that the ground would hold his weight.

He didn’t look around at the crowd. He didn’t react to the murmurs.

His gaze went directly to Kaidance.

Not dismissive. Not arrogant.

Measuring.

Kaidance lifted her chin, refusing to be the first to look away.

Travis’s voice carried across the bay without effort. “Cadet Vega.”

Kaidance blinked at the fact he knew her name. “Blaze.”

He regarded her a moment longer. “You’ve been overriding your safety thresholds.”

Kaidance’s mouth twitched. “You been watching me?”

“Everyone’s watched you,” he said. “They’re waiting to see whether you burn out or burn through.”

Kaidance felt heat rise behind her ribs. “Which are you waiting for?”

Travis’s expression didn’t change. “Neither. I’m here to win.”

He turned away then, as if the conversation had never happened, and climbed into his cockpit with the same calm he’d had in every replay.

Danny exhaled. “He’s inside your head already.”

Kaidance’s hands clenched around her helmet. “Then I’ll redecorate.”

Zelden’s voice came quietly. “Kaidance—don’t let pride choose your timing.”

Kaidance looked at him. “Pride is the only thing they can’t take away.”

Zelden’s jaw tightened. “It’s also the thing that gets pilots killed.”

Kaidance held his gaze a beat longer, then climbed into her own cockpit.

The harness locked around her shoulders.

The world narrowed to the hum of systems and the soft glow of the HUD.

A calm synthetic voice filled her ears: SIMULATION INITIALIZING.

Cinder Dome bloomed into existence.

4. CINDER DOME

The arena loaded as a broken city half-buried in ash. Towers leaned like cracked teeth. Rivers of simulated lava cut through streets. The sky burned orange, thick with particulate haze that interfered with sensors.

Gravity: standard.

Objective: disable the opponent unit or maintain control of the central zone until time expires.

Timer: fifteen minutes.

Kaidance’s mecha dropped onto shattered pavement with a heavy clang. Heat shimmered over the ground. Her sensors flickered as the haze bit into her range.

Across the ruined boulevard, Travis Blaze landed without a stumble, his unit’s stance perfect, weapon systems already aligned.

No flourish. No wasted movement.

Kaidance’s comms pinged with Danny’s voice from the observer channel. “Remember—don’t chase him into open lines.”

Zelden’s voice followed, clipped. “Force him to react. Don’t offer him an axis.”

Kaidance rolled her shoulders against the harness. “Copy.”

Travis moved first—one smooth advance, using a collapsed transit arch as partial cover. He fired a short burst of plasma that wasn’t meant to hit; it was meant to herd.