The Academy Arena thrummed with raw, electric energy—a colossal dome packed with the fervor of Phoenix Academy's finest. Dozens of elevated rings dotted the vast floor, each encased in shimmering Defense Matrix barriers that hummed faintly, containing explosions of Spirit Energy while allowing spectators clear views. Cheers and gasps rippled through the crowds: clusters of uniformed students clustered around popular matches, some perched on tiered seating, others standing excitedly at ring edges. Mentors in official robes hovered nearby, eyes sharp as they refereed—declaring points, halting oversteps, ensuring no clash turned lethal. The air carried scents of sweat, ozone from discharged abilities, and faint metallic tang from reinforced platforms. In the Metahuman World, arenas like this
