Dimension System: SSS Rank Talent Awakening

The golden light consumed them. Warm, blinding, weightless.

For a fleeting moment, Dabi felt everything—the weight of the universe, the pulse of something ancient, the whispers of long-forgotten warriors echoing through time, brushing against the edges of his consciousness like the faintest dream. The sensation of a thousand lives interwoven, fleeting and eternal. He could feel the histories of worlds, the heartbeat of life itself, thundering through his soul.

Then—

Darkness.

A deafening silence.

And in the next instant—

Roaring noise. Blinding lights. Cold, hard ground beneath his feet, seeping through his boots like an ancient memory. The scent of dust, sweat, and iron filled the air, unmistakable, grounding him to this reality.

Dabi gasped, his chest heaving as he stumbled forward, his legs unsteady as though they had forgotten their purpose. His vision blurred before snapping back into focus. He wasn't in the throne room anymore.

He was standing in the Grand Tournament Arena.

His stomach lurched, the taste of bile rising in his throat. His pulse pounded in his ears, each beat deafening, an unwelcome reminder of his fractured reality.

The once vast, floating battlefield was gone. The golden throne? The cosmic void? The illusions of ascension? Gone.

Instead, towering stone walls surrounded them on all sides. Jagged, scarred from centuries of battles long past. The roaring voices of thousands of spectators filled the air, their cheers and shouts crashing down like a tidal wave, filling the very air with their intensity. Massive screens floated above the battlefield, replaying images of past matches—glorious, brutal, and unforgiving. The coliseum's artificial sun cast harsh, unforgiving light over the massive, circular battleground, making the fighters seem smaller, dwarfed by the cavernous expanse.

Dabi's mind raced, a storm of conflicting thoughts colliding within him.

Had they been dreaming? Had the so-called "Final Test" been a hallucination?

A trick?

He turned sharply, scanning his team, his gaze lingering on each of them as if seeking some reassurance. He found none.

Jeni was on her knees, breathing hard, her hands trembling as if she were still trying to conjure ice that no longer existed, her features contorted in confusion and disbelief. Zen clutched his sword, his knuckles white, his body rigid with unspent tension. Kiba looked around wildly, his aura flaring with confusion and anger, almost crackling with pent-up energy. Althea's golden eyes shimmered with something rare—uncertainty, a crack in her usual stoic demeanor.

"What… what just happened?" Jeni gasped, her voice hoarse, as if the very air around her had become thick, suffocating.

Zen's head snapped up. His voice was sharp with disbelief, raw, as though it came from somewhere deep within. "No. No, no, no. That wasn't just a test." His hand curled into a fist, his body trembling with restrained fury. "It couldn't have been."

Althea, usually calm, was visibly shaken. Her voice was laced with a quiet sadness, an edge of bitterness. "But it was." She took a shaky breath, her words lingering in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. "It was never real."

Dabi's fists trembled at his sides. His mind refused to accept it. But deep down, in the core of his being, he knew. He knew Althea was right.

They had been tricked.

Everything—the throne, the choice, the so-called "final battle"—had been an illusion, a delicate mirage designed to test them in ways they couldn't have foreseen.

Then, like a dam breaking, memories came rushing back, crashing into his consciousness like a torrential wave. Unbidden, uncontrollable.

Aldick.

The final battle.

The familiar faces of past opponents, the conversations they had, the rivalries they built. The heat of the moment, the sweat on their brows, the sting of each wound.

But as Dabi's vision sharpened, the faces blurred. The voices distorted. The details twisted into something unrecognizable. They were like fragments of a shattered mirror, reflecting distorted versions of reality that didn't belong to this world.

His breath caught.

They had never met Aldick.

They had never fought him.

Every interaction, every connection, every battle up until this moment—

None of it was real.

Jeni's eyes widened with horror as she came to the same realization, her voice barely a whisper of disbelief. "The entire tournament… from the start… it was all an illusion."

Zen's voice was raw, stripped of any pretense. "Not just the 'final test.' Everything. From the moment we stepped into this arena. Every second was a lie."

Kiba's hands clenched into fists, his breath ragged, shaking with the realization. "Then who the hell were we fighting this whole time?" His words were barely a growl, fueled by frustration.

Althea's expression darkened, her golden eyes glinting with anger and disappointment. "Not real people. Not real teams. It was a construct. A test—a twisted game designed to manipulate us."

Dabi's chest tightened.

What they had thought was reality had been fabricated.

What they had thought were enemies had been false reflections, hollow shells crafted to challenge them in ways that no real warriors could.

And only now—after enduring it all—had they broken free.

Which meant—

They had no idea who their true opponents were.

The Grand Overseer's Announcement

"AND NOW, THE MOMENT WE HAVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR."

The deep, booming voice of the Grand Overseer shattered their thoughts, reverberating through their bones like the toll of a bell.

Dabi and his team snapped their heads toward the floating throne high above the battlefield, their hearts pounding in unison as they instinctively braced themselves.

There he was. The Grand Overseer, seated in his usual place, watching them with an air of detached amusement. His face was hidden behind his expressionless silver mask, his flowing black and gold robes shifting in the artificial wind, the fabric whispering with an eerie grace. He sat with perfect stillness, his presence towering even though he never moved, as if his very being warped the space around him.

Dabi's stomach twisted into a knot.

He knew.

The Overseer had known all along that the entire tournament was a fabrication. That the competitors had been trapped in a grand illusion, forced to face false battles that only existed to test their perception, their resolve, their ability to discern truth from deception.

And now, the real tournament was beginning.

The masked figure's voice echoed once more, filled with authority, commanding every corner of the arena.

"FOUR TEAMS REMAIN. THE STRONGEST WARRIORS. THE GREATEST CHALLENGERS."

Dabi forced his head up, his eyes narrowing as he tried to steady his racing thoughts.

His eyes locked onto three other teams standing across the battlefield.

These were not the people they had fought before.

Their real opponents.

The Final Four

Dabi's blood ran cold.

These weren't just any competitors.

The Grand Overseer gestured toward the massive, floating tournament bracket, which had wiped away every eliminated team—leaving only four names behind, names that were etched in stone like the inevitable, unrelenting march of fate.

TEAM DABI

SOLARIS

SOL MAGNA

GRAND MUGAS

Jeni's breath caught in her throat, a sharp intake of air that seemed to freeze time itself. "Wait… only four teams are left?"

Kiba cursed under his breath, his frustration palpable. "So everyone else was never real?" His voice cracked, the weight of the revelation making the words feel like a betrayal of their own memories.

Zen scanned the remaining competitors, his jaw tight, his gaze unyielding. "Then these… these are the real warriors." He muttered under his breath, the words laced with quiet dread.

Dabi did.

And his stomach twisted further.

They were nothing like the ones from the illusion.

They were far more stronger and dangerous.

These were no mere pawns in a game. These were the true challengers, the titans who had emerged from the shadows of falsehoods, ready to test the limits of their strength, their will.

The Grand Overseer's voice thundered once more, the words crisp and final.

"THE ILLUSION HAS BEEN BROKEN. NOW, ONLY THE STRONGEST REMAIN."

His silver mask glinted in the light as he raised his hand, a silent command that rippled through the arena, heavy with expectation.

Above them, the tournament screens flashed, revealing the matchups for the next round, the images burning into their minds.

MATCH 1: TEAM DABI vs. SOLARIS

MATCH 2: SOL MAGNA vs. GRAND MUGAS

Dabi exhaled slowly, the weight of their new reality settling in like a stone in his gut.

The truth was clear now.

They had never been in the real tournament.

Only by breaking through the illusion—by overcoming their own inner battles, their doubts and fears—had they reached this point.

And now, they faced the real warriors.

Jeni steadied herself, ice forming at her fingertips, her voice steady despite the tremors in her soul. "This is it, isn't it?"

Zen's sword hummed with energy, a soft but unmistakable sound that vibrated through the air. "The real war starts now."

Kiba cracked his knuckles, a grin breaking through his frustration, the fire of battle igniting once more. "Good. I was getting tired of fighting fakes."

Althea's golden eyes gleamed, her gaze sharp and determined. "No more illusions. This time, we fight for real."

Dabi lifted his gaze to Team Solaris, Team Sol Magna, and Team Grand Mugas, the weight of the moment settling in.

This was no longer just a tournament.

This was survival.