The silence in the wake of Councilor Valerius's transmission was heavier than any Kael had ever known. It was Mira who shattered it, her voice a low, urgent hiss.
"It's a trap. It has to be."
Lira, ever the analyst, was more measured, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Not necessarily a trap. An offer of acquisition. He didn't threaten; he appealed to your reason. That makes him far more dangerous than the Reavers in the forest."
Kael said nothing. The councilor's words echoed in his mind, a seductive countermelody to Veyra's war-drums. A resource to be protected... aggressive prompting... your duty... They were words that acknowledged the burden he felt, the fear that every time he evolved a new power under Garrick's demanding gaze, he was losing a little more of himself.
"He said Korvath's influence runs deep," Kael finally murmured, looking from Mira's fiercely protective face to Lira's calculating one. "What if he's right? What if the academy isn't safe?"
"Nowhere is safe, Kael," Mira retorted, grabbing his arm. "But here, you have us. You have Garrick. You have... well, you have Veyra, who at least is brutally honest about wanting to turn you into a weapon. That councilor? He's offering a gilded cage and calling it a throne."
Lira nodded slowly in agreement. "Mira's right. Valerius's offer is predicated on your submission. He wants to study the Core, to understand it so completely that he can control it. And by extension, control you. At least here, they're trying to make you strong enough that no one can control you."
The conflict must have been plain on his face, because Garrick's gruff voice sounded from the doorway, making all three of them jump.
"Trouble?"
Kael didn't hesitate. He played the recorded transmission. As Garrick watched, his expression hardened from curiosity to grim recognition, and finally, to a cold, simmering anger.
"Valerius," Garrick spat the name like a curse. "I should have known the political vultures would circle eventually."
"You know him?" Kael asked.
"I know of him," Garrick corrected, stepping fully into the room. "He leads the 'Preservationist' faction on the Council. They believe that powerful, unstable assets—which now includes you, kid—are too dangerous to be left in the hands of 'military adventurists' like Veyra. They'd rather dissect a problem than solve it."
"And Korvath? The Reaver leader... was he really a council geneticist?" Lira pressed.
Garrick's jaw tightened. "He was. One of the best. Until his research into forced evolutionary triggers was deemed unethical and shut down. He disappeared shortly after, and the Reavers began operating with a new level of sophistication. Valerius isn't entirely wrong about his influence being widespread. Korvath has sympathizers in high places."
A cold knot tightened in Kael's stomach. The world he was trying to save was riddled with rot from the inside. "So what do we do? Ignore him?"
"We do not ignore him," a new voice stated. Head Instructor Veyra stood at the door, her arms crossed, having approached with her characteristic silence. Her green eyes scanned their faces, missing nothing. "We use him."
She stepped into the room, the very air seeming to grow still around her. "Valerius has revealed his hand. He believes you are a frightened boy who can be swayed by promises of safety and lofty ideals of duty. He has also, foolishly, confirmed the identity and background of our true enemy, Korvath. This is invaluable intelligence."
She stopped in front of Kael, her gaze piercing. "The question is, Ardent, what do you believe? Do you believe your place is here, being forged in fire, or in the Citadel, being pickled in a lab for your own 'protection'?"
Kael met her stare. He thought of the Primordial Core's echo, its plea to be a force of healing, not control. He thought of the child he'd saved from the Reaver's attack, of Mira's unwavering faith, of the exhilarating, terrifying feeling of his own evolving strength. The gilded cage of the Citadium offered safety, but it was a lie. It offered no growth, no evolution. It was stagnation, the very antithesis of the Core's purpose.
"I'm not a resource," Kael said, his voice gaining strength with each word. "And I'm not just a weapon. I'm the custodian. And my duty is here."
A flicker of something that might have been approval crossed Veyra's face. "Good. Then this is what we do. You will reply to Valerius."
Mira sucked in a sharp breath. "What?"
"You will play the part of the conflicted, overwhelmed young man," Veyra continued, her plan unfolding with ruthless efficiency. "You will express interest in his offer, but voice fear of Veyra's retribution. You will ask for time, for more information. You will string him along. Every communication is a chance for us to trace his network, to identify his—and by extension, Korvath's—allies within the city's power structure."
It was a dangerous game. A game of lies and deception that felt alien to the straightforward battles Kael was growing accustomed to.
"Can I do that?" he asked, more to himself than anyone.
Lira answered. "You adapted to plasma fire. You can adapt to this. Just don't forget who you are while you're doing it."
Under Veyra's direct supervision, Kael composed his reply. His fingers trembled slightly as he typed, crafting the words of a boy tempted by an easy way out.
"Councilor Valerius. Your offer... it's more than I expected. The training here is brutal. I feel like a tool being sharpened for a war I didn't ask for. The idea of a place of study, of understanding... it's appealing. But Head Instructor Veyra watches me closely. I need to be careful. Can you tell me more? How can you guarantee my safety from her, and from Korvath?"
He hit send. The wait that followed was agonizing, stretching for two full days. Kael threw himself into his training with a new, desperate intensity, the looming political shadow making Garrick's physical demands feel almost simple by comparison.
When the reply finally came, it was during a late-night strategy session.
"Your caution is wise, Kael. Veyra's reputation is well-earned. Our reach, however, extends beyond the academy's walls. We have agents in place. Your extraction, when you are ready, will be swift and silent. As for Korvath, his weakness is his obsession. He believes the Core is his by right of intellect. We understand it is a trust. Attached is a secure data packet. Study it. It contains everything we have on Korvath's known research facilities. Knowledge is your first shield. We await your decision."
The attached data packet was a bombshell. Schematics, energy signatures, and suspected locations of three hidden labs on the outskirts of Aetheris. It was either a gesture of immense good faith or the most elaborate bait ever laid.
Veyra's tech specialists immediately began dissecting the data, their initial assessment confirming its likely authenticity. "He's giving us targets," Garrick mused, staring at the holographic map now displaying the lab locations. "He wants us to fight his war for him, to bloody Korvath's nose while he stays clean in the Citadel."
"Then let's not disappoint him," Veyra said, a predatory gleam in her eye. "But we'll do it on our terms. Garrick, prepare a strike team. The most elite. We hit the primary lab, here." She pointed to a facility nestled in the toxic ruins of the Old Quarter. "We gather intelligence, we disrupt their operations, and we show Valerius that his 'resource' is not a passive asset to be traded."
She turned to Kael. "You're on the team. This is what you've been training for. A real mission, against the true enemy. See what your 'duty' looks like outside these walls."
That night, as Kael checked and re-checked his mission gear—a form-fitting tactical suit that could channel his energy, comms, rations—the weight of it all settled on him. He was no longer just reacting; he was taking the fight to the enemy. He was deceiving a high councilor and walking into a den of his most brilliant foe.
Mira found him on the observation deck, looking out one last time at the city he was about to risk everything for.
"You don't have to go, you know," she said softly. "You could still walk away from all of this."
Kael looked at the distant, glittering spire of the Citadel, then down at the bustling, chaotic streets of Aetheris. He saw the lights of Genesis Academy, a place that had once rejected him, now his only bastion in a world of shifting allegiances.
"Yes, I do," he replied, his voice quiet but firm. "Walking away was the old Kael. The one who watched from the sidelines."
He turned to her, and for the first time, he didn't see a trace of the bitter, powerless Null in his own reflection. He saw a soldier, a custodian, a man in the making.
"It's time to go to work."