Ardyn's mind raced.
When was the Whisperseed attached?
What else have they heard? What did they learn from us?
He started retracing mentally, trying to remember every place he and Mirae had talked while his satchel hung by his side. The training balcony. The lift. The library. The Arena prep hall. Too many places.
The lightglass clock on the wall glowed faintly: ten forty-eight.
Should I warn Mirae now?
He began pacing the room, barefoot on the smooth flooring, his thoughts circling just as fast. The longer he waited, the more he imagined someone listening even now, catching every breath he didn't mean to speak.
Finally, he stopped mid-step, facing the door.
Then it came again—a subtle tug, the same sensation he'd felt that morning before meeting her at the lift. Not fear. Not dread. Just a whisper, pulling at the edge of instinct.
I should be more prepared, he thought.
He turned back, crossed the room quickly, and knelt beside the low storage chest near his bed. Flipping open the latches, he lifted the lid to reveal the padded interior where his Galegears were stored.
Within moments, he had slipped on just the essentials: boots, elbow-mounted, and a single gauntlet.
For a second, he glanced down at himself and hesitated.
He looked… ridiculous, maybe. Galegear strapped over loose nightclothes instead of their sleek Cirran uniform. A mechanic wearing armor to walk across a hallway. If Mirae saw him like this, she'd burst out laughing. Ava probably wouldn't let him live it down for a week.
But caution outweighed pride.
He moved to the door, opened it slowly, and stepped into the quiet corridor.
What was Mirae's room again? he thought, glancing back at the plaque beside his door. 114-B.
I think hers—and Ava's—was… 109-B?
He started walking, steps light, eyes scanning ahead.
As he rounded a curve in the corridor, following the ascending room numbers, his steps faltered.
There, just ahead near 109-B, stood a masked figure.
Startled, his breath caught. The figure had already seen him.
In one swift motion, a dagger was drawn and the figure lunged—silent, fast, deliberate.
Ardyn froze for a heartbeat. The glint of steel flashed. His instincts kicked in.
He raised his right arm—just in time. The blade struck the gauntlet with a metallic clang, skidding off harmlessly.
He sprang back, boots flaring.
Wind hissed as the thrusters activated, lifting him in a burst, just as the assailant closed the distance, still sprinting, blade ready.
The assailant's mask caught the light, a smooth, curved surface like a mirrored helm, reflecting Ardyn's own stunned expression in distorted fragments. It wasn't just a mask—it was a small helmet, seamless and featureless, designed to erase identity.
But the figure beneath it was unmistakably a woman—lean, agile, and fast. The shape of her body, the way she moved—it was clear even through the dark combat layers. Long hair spilled loose from the back of the helmet, swaying as she moved.
She kicked off the wall mid-sprint, using the angle to hurl herself forward with sudden acceleration.
Ardyn barely reacted in time. He twisted hard, flipping to the side just as the blade swiped past his chest, inches from tearing through him.
If not for the agility drills Mirae had put them through over the past days, he might have been skewered on the spot.
She didn't pause. Another strike came low—Ardyn hopped back, then ducked as the blade hissed through the air where his neck had been.
She moved with deadly precision, calculated, fluid, and fast. Too fast.
If not for the Galegears boosting his reactions—surge in the boots, stabilizers in his elbows—he wouldn't have been able to dodge her attacks. Not all of them.
Another slash, this time from the side. He caught a glimpse of her footwork, the tight rotations of her shoulders, the way she shifted her weight before each lunge.
It hit him all at once.
The build. The way she moves... it's almost the same as Mirae.
No.
Impossible, he thought.
Ardyn gritted his teeth as his Galegear-boots flared beneath him, launching him backward in a sharp burst of wind and light. The sudden speed widened the gap—but not for long. The assailant was still in pursuit, her movements relentless.
A side stairwell flashed into view.
Ardyn angled his flight hard to the left, just barely clearing the wall as he shot toward the staircase. He pulled up, slowing midair to avoid slamming into the underside of the steps.
As he ascended, he caught a glimpse of her below, already sprinting up the stairs. She wasn't just fast—she was efficient, cutting corners by leaping across flights, kicking off railings, vaulting to gain height.
The chase blurred from floor to floor, Ardyn weaving through upper corridors, bouncing off walls, dipping under beams and support arches.
He was starting to gain distance again when something jerked hard at his arm.
A sharp tug on his right side threw him off balance.
He looked down—his gauntlet was tangled in a fine, high-tension climbing cable. The line yanked taut.
He stumbled, tumbling across the stairs. The world spun. He was being pulled, dragged back down step by step.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her closing in—fast.
Panic surged.
Ardyn grabbed his right arm with his left, fingers fumbling for the release latch. The mechanism clicked. The gauntlet detached—and in the same motion, he twisted to the side, boots scraping for traction against the steps.
But she was already in the air, leaping toward him, dagger raised and closing fast.
Ardyn twisted with the momentum—wind-pivoted—and blasted upward in a gale-driven burst, narrowly escaping the strike.
The chase continued, a blur of motion and fury.
Ardyn reached the ground floor at last. He shot through the stairwell door, bursting into the wide reception hall of the Aerohall in a rush of wind and motion. His boots flared too hard—panic throwing off his balance—and he crashed onto the polished tile, tumbling once before coming to a stop near the center of the hall.
He lay there for a breath, chest heaving, eyes locked on the door he'd just come through.
Footsteps pounded behind him.
Two Sentinels from the main entrance rushed over, weapons drawn.
"Freeze!" one barked.
Ardyn raised both hands without rising, still half-prone on the floor.
The Sentinel stopped a few paces away, weapon trained. "Identify yourself and explain the commotion."
"Ardyn Cale," he said, voice tight. "Cirran delegate from Windmere. Skyrunner."
The Sentinel lowered his weapon slightly. The second guard approached, gaze flicking past Ardyn toward the open door ahead.
"What happened?" he asked.
"I was attacked," Ardyn said.
"By who?"
"I don't know." He shook his head, still breathing hard. "Masked. Fast. Armed."
One of the Sentinels stepped back, pulling a Whisperrelay from his belt. He pressed it to his mouth, voice sharp and controlled. "Possible assailant near the Aerohall. All units, begin sweep of the lower floors. Secure all entrances and exits on the upper levels. Suspect is masked and armed—repeat, masked and armed."
* * *
A few minutes later, Ardyn sat in a holding room just off the Aerohall's main level, surrounded by a trio of guards.
Pain throbbed across his body. His right arm was bruised and tender where the cable had caught him, his lower lip split and still bleeding faintly. Scrapes lined his forearms where he'd hit the stairs, and his head buzzed—not just from the impact, but from everything racing through it.
He'd already told them what happened. Twice. The masked figure. The chase. But not the Whisperseed.
He'd left that part out—along with anything that might hint at Breathers. One wrong detail, and everything could start to unravel.
Outside, teams were sweeping the lower floors. Entrances and exits across the upper tiers were being locked down. His team had been called—they were on their way.
But Ardyn's thoughts kept circling Mirae.
Could she have—
No. He shook the thought off.
Just then, the door slid open.
Captain Seris entered first, sharp-eyed and already scanning the room. Roe followed close behind, then Kael, Sedge, Pimri, and Doma in quick succession.
"Ardyn!" Pimri was the first to cross the space, crouching slightly to meet his eye. "What in the skies happened?"
Seris stepped closer, arms folded. "The guards told us there was an attack."
"They said someone chased you through the halls," Roe added, gaze tense.
Ardyn sat up straighter, wincing slightly as his bruised ribs protested. "I already told them everything. Someone was waiting outside Mirae's room—masked, armed. I blocked the first hit. The attacker gave chase, but I lost the pursuit near the lobby. That's all I know."
The room buzzed with voices, questions layered over each other. Sedge asked if he saw the attacker's face. Doma asked if he was followed all the way. Ardyn answered as best he could, keeping his replies steady.
Then the door opened again.
Mirae stepped through, followed closely by Ava, and one of the medics from their team.
Ardyn's posture shifted subtly.
He straightened, alert not from pain this time, but realization.
As the three girls entered the room, side by side, his gaze flicked between them. Between Mirae and the medic.
They were nearly the same height. Similar frame. Even their hair was close in length—both dark—except for Mirae's signature streaks—cobalt, deep purple, and crimson woven through the black.
"Are you alright, Ardyn?" Mirae asked as she stepped forward, concern softening her tone.
Ardyn gave a small nod, forcing a thin smile. "Yeah. Bit bruised, but I'll live."
Mirae offered a faint chuckle, trying to ease the mood. "Well, I brought an Aethermender and a medic. Ava and Kaenra." She tilted her head slightly. "Which one do you want patching you up?"
A chill crept up Ardyn's spine.
He didn't answer. Didn't laugh.
Adryn remembered.
Kaenra.
She had joined their team the same day Mirae had. Quiet, observant, always hovering at the edge of things. He and Mirae had already been talking about the Breather—the Four Breathers—even before Kaenra came aboard. There hadn't been any danger then. And now, he remembered something else.
Last night. The lift.
Kaenra had been behind him.
His thoughts tightened like a coil, and then snapped back as Kaenra gently reached for his hand.
Ardyn flinched.
"It's alright," Kaenra said, voice calm, smiling as she examined the scrapes across his knuckles. "Just checking how bad the damage is."
She turned toward Ava. "Maybe a quick mend?"
Ava gave a small nod and pulled her gauntlet from her satchel, activating the pale, focused glow of her Aethermender module.
Ardyn held out his arm—but his hand was trembling slightly.
"Relax, Ardyn," Kaenra said, her voice light. "I'm not going to kill you."
Her eyes flicked up and met his.
The words were casual. The smile still there. But something in her gaze lingered—something sharp. As if she could see straight through him.
The others laughed.
Ardyn gave a quiet chuckle, too—just enough to blend in.
But the smile didn't reach his eyes.
Inside, something coiled tighter in his chest.