Current Year: 2037
Twelve years after The Fracture
The first thing Kael noticed about the Academy wasn't the walls.
It was the weight.
Invisible. Unshakable. Like the Rift itself had bled into the foundation.
His boots echoed through a glass hall too polished to be real. Students passed him in squads—laughing, comparing ranks, arguing about Desyre affinities. No one noticed him.
That was good.
Until a voice broke the quiet.
"Kael Navarro?"
A man in a silver-black coat stood outside an office, tablet in hand, sharp eyes narrowing behind rimless glasses. Older. Precise. Expression unreadable.
"Follow me. We'll get your file sorted."
Kael nodded and stepped inside.
The office was clinical—no banners, no photos. Just two chairs, a Rift-map screen, and a humming panel glowing with rank indicators.
"Mid-semester entrance. No combat trial. Just a written evaluation and background. That's unusual," the man said, seating himself. "But WAA policy allows exceptions under unique recommendations."
He tapped the screen.
"You've been given a C-Class classification based on the scale. Solid fundamentals. No recorded Awakening. No registered Core ability."
Kael didn't flinch, though he could feel the weight behind the words.
No recorded Awakening.
The official term for when someone's Desyre Core first ignites—usually triggered by trauma, intense emotion, or exposure to a Rift. The WAA logs every Ascender's awakening like a birthdate.
Kael's… wasn't public. He made sure of that.
No registered Core ability.
The scanners picked up no flame trails, no psychic heat, no elemental flare. Just a faint baseline Desyre presence. Empty on the outside.
Exactly how he wanted it.
"I'm Professor Orwen," the man continued. "As your evaluating officer, I'll explain how this works. You'll be considered Year One. By your second year, you'll choose a track. There are three."
He turned the tablet toward Kael.
>Vanguard Track : Combat operatives. Frontline specialists. You'll bleed first and stand last.
>Genesis Track : Rift research, Desyre analysis, core theory. Less danger, more discovery.
>Stratus Track: Tactics, logistics, support coordination. The mind behind the mission.
Kael's eyes scanned the screen but didn't speak.
Professor Orwen studied him for a long second. "You don't talk much."
"I listen," Kael replied.
"Hmph. Rare in here." Orwen stood and gestured toward the door. "You'll receive your dorm assignment shortly. North Sector—standard housing. Everyone from A-rank and below is placed in that block."
He paused. "Only S-rank cadets are housed separately. Private facilities. Isolated training. You won't interact with them unless assigned."
Kael turned, hand reaching for the door.
"Most students think their power determines their place," Orwen added behind him. His voice was quieter now—but heavier.
"It doesn't. It's your mindset. The Rift doesn't care about your rank or how strong you are. But it will test if you belong."
Kael paused. Then nodded once and stepped out.
----
Sector 3 - North Wing Dorms
The halls shifted here. Less glass, more steel. Rift-tempered doors lined the corridors, and the scent of ozone clung faintly to the air from recent Desyre drills.
Kael walked in silence, scanning dorm labels, security glyphs, and Rift safety alerts scrolling across wall-screens.
Room 312.
He tapped his wristband.
The door slid open with a hydraulic hiss.
Two bunks. One weapons locker. A desk. A single window looking out over the artificial Rift garden.
Kael stepped inside and froze when a familiar voice exploded from across the room.
"Wait—Kael?!"
He turned.
Same jaw. Same ridiculous hair. Same cocky grin.
Levi Giarden.
"No way," Levi said, half-dressed in training gear. "Kael Velian Navarro, in the flesh!"
Kael blinked. "You're taller."
Levi barked a laugh. "And you still look like you could snap a pipe in half and use it as a weapon. Tondo didn't change you one bit."
"You're my roommate?"
"Apparently." Levi tossed a towel aside. "We're both in the A-and-below dorm block, so yeah. Everyone under S-rank is crammed together."
He plopped onto the lower bunk with a grin.
"Guess we're roommates again. Destiny or disaster, huh?"
Kael leaned his pack against the wall. "Both."
They talked long after curfew warnings blinked red across the hall.
Memories of back-alley fights. Training in secret. Makeshift weapons. The silence they both carried.
Eventually, Levi lay back with a sigh. "You know you missed the opening trials, right? People are already forming squads, trying to get noticed by WAA recruiters."
Kael stared at the ceiling. "I'll manage."
"I bet you will," Levi muttered. "You've always had that weird energy."
Kael didn't answer.
He didn't explain that his Desyre wasn't something the school could scan.
That his power hadn't come from drills or board evaluations.
It came from something deeper. Older.
And right now, the system still hadn't noticed him.
He liked it that way.