Gray walked out of the director's office.
His head felt clearer after everything he'd learned, but a dull ache pulsed behind his eyes. There was too much to process, too many details to fit into his small head.
Gray rubbed his temples, trying to make sense of it all.
"So ranking up requires you to dance with death," he muttered. "Got it. And I get stronger with each rank."
He furrowed his brow as a new thought crept into his mind.
"Maybe... maybe I'll awaken my passive trait at Rank II."
"It better."
The thought filled him with hope for a moment. But that hope quickly faded. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. Nothing had been so far. And besides, he was still stuck here. Even if he wanted to leave, he couldn't.
As he descended the stairs towards the cafeteria, his thoughts wandered back to a week ago. Before Nyxterra. Before the system. Before everything.
"Did I find something worth living for...?"
It was a question he asked himself more often than he'd admit. Near-death had forced him to feel things he hadn't before. A strange mix of fear, adrenaline, and... longing. But now, thinking back only made the road ahead feel heavier.
He sighed quietly and muttered to himself.
"There's no point thinking of the past. Only the future."
His fists clenched.
"And when I find that recruiter... I'll make him eat—"
"Cadet Gray."
Gray stopped in his tracks and looked up. A tall man stood between him and the cafeteria. He wore an advanced military suit, sleek and cold. His face was covered by a black helmet with reflective one-way glass.
Another faceless soldier in this cursed facility.
Gray's tone sharpened.
"What? I'm just getting food."
The soldier's voice was robotic and indifferent.
"The first lesson has begun. I will escort you. Please follow."
Without checking to see if Gray obeyed, the man turned and began walking.
Gray gritted his teeth but followed.
They took several silent turns down stark white halls until they stopped before a door marked in heavy letters: Room 34.
The soldier twisted the handle, opened the door, and then walked away without another word.
"Didn't even wait to see if I'd go in..."
He swallowed.
Gray stepped inside Room 34, the door shutting behind him with a soft click. A low murmur of voices dulled into silence as the curtain separating the classroom from the entrance shifted. The professor, seated calmly behind a sleek desk cluttered with data sheets and a single terminal, lifted his gaze and gave Gray a slight nod before motioning him toward a vacant seat.
Gray walked toward it, conscious of every step. The atmosphere in the room was stifling. Students filled the rows ahead, each one seated straight-backed and focused. Their eyes, golden or amber, gleamed faintly under the room's artificial lights. A stark contrast to Gray's muted silver irises. He was the only Hollow strain in the room, a walking anomaly among Lightborn descendants.
As Gray sat, he felt the weight of eyes press against his back like invisible chains. He didn't dare meet their stares. Not yet.
"Thank you for joining us, Gray," the professor said smoothly. His tone was cordial but clipped, hiding something colder beneath the surface.
Gray responded with a small nod. His body was tense, but he tried to breathe calmly.
"Now then," the professor continued, "We will begin with one of the foundational concepts necessary for survival: Corruption Theory."
That snapped Gray's attention forward. The stares from his peers faded into the background. He had heard the word corruption many times already. Whispers in the halls, red warnings on system screens, even in the mission briefing. It always tied to death, instability, and madness.
"To begin," the professor said, pacing slowly in front of the desk, "what is corruption?"
He waited a moment, allowing the silence to breathe.
Then, a voice rose from the right.
"Corruption is the opposite of Radiance. It is an invisible force that rots the soul, mind, and body."
Gray glanced toward the voice. A boy about his age spoke, wiry and pale, with unkempt curly hair and glasses. He looked completely unremarkable with no shining eyes, no unnatural strength. Just a regular person. Or atleast seemed to be.
The professor gave a slow nod. "You are correct in part, Renn. However, you are also mistaken."
The room held its breath. Even Gray was caught in the moment.
"Corruption is not truly the opposite of Radiance," the professor continued. "It is not a rival force. It is not some hidden mist that clings to your soul. It is environmental. It is living. It is part of this world's rebirth."
Gray's brows furrowed.
"Corruption," the professor said, turning to face them fully, "Is a byproduct of unrestrained evolution. It is both decay and creation. It is what happens when power exceeds control. When the soul tries to become something more and fails. That failure festers, and in doing so, gives birth to something new."
He tapped on his terminal and projected an image. A diseased tree, bark splitting open to reveal glowing roots.
"You will see this around you on Nyxterra. Trees that pulse with red light. Soil that devours light. Beasts that no longer obey instinct. This is not some curse. It is a consequence. And it is why all Strained must learn to resist it."
He paused before speaking again.
"Or embracing it."
Gray shifted in his seat, his mind racing.
"Which brings us to today's next topic which is Strain Resonance."
A few students straightened up. Gray leaned in.
The professor pulled up another diagram. It showed two spiraling lights. One gold and one black, coiling but never touching.
"Every Strain awakens through a catalyst. That part, you already know. But what you likely do not understand is what governs the growth of a Strain."
He looked across the room, his eyes scanning every face.
"Resonance is the frequency of your Strain's interaction with your soul. Think of your Strain not as a power but as a language your body must learn to speak. At low Resonance, the voice is fractured. You must struggle to hear it. But as your body adapts, your soul begins to harmonize with that frequency. That is what we call Resonance. And its not something the system displays, meaning its up to you to adapt with it."
He tapped again, and the projection changed. Now it showed a silhouette of a person, threads extending from their chest, forming a pattern.
"Every skill, every passive trait, every evolution. It all begins with Resonance. The higher it climbs, the easier your system adapts. At certain peaks of Resonance, known as Echelon Points, your body unlocks new thresholds. You may call them ranks."
Gray's thoughts drifted. That matched what the director said. You ranked up not just by surviving, but by adapting. You had to earn your evolution.
"The system is not your master," the professor continued. "It is your translator. It records, measures, guides. But you do not obey it. Neither does your Strain."
Gray blinked. That made sense. The interface was just a tool, not the origin.
"And for your Strain to truly resonate, you must understand two more things. Vyre. And Affinity."
Now the classroom seemed to hold its breath again.
"Vyre is the ambient force that permeates our world. It exists everywhere. In soil. In light. In breath. Your Strain does not generate Vyre,it filters it."
He pulled up a final image. A funnel-like diagram, channeling mist into glowing orbs.
"Affinity is your alignment. It is the category of Vyre your Strain can control with greatest ease. Fire. Water. Stone. Emotion. These are all affinities related to the Lumen strain. For the Wither strain your more likely to have something like shadow,dark, soul or bone. You are able to learn elemants whcih arent your affinity, but with more difficulty."
Gray was still. This explained Severing Bloom. It was not just a skill. It was an expression of his soul. His pain had meaning. His suffering became energy. The strain didn't conjure power from nothing. It transformed the raw data of existence.
"Vyre is neutral," the professor said. "But your affinity gives it shape. Combined with resonance, you begin to manifest abilities. Each of you will experience this differently."
The lecture concluded with a silent signal. The professor sat again, tapping notes into his terminal.
Gray stared ahead, heart thudding. Strain. Vyre. Affinity. Resonance. Corruption. It all made sense now. Or at least, more sense than before.
He slowly rose with the others as the bell chimed, dismissed.
As he turned to leave, a voice met him.
"Gray, right?"
It was Renn, the quiet student from earlier. He had a book clutched to his chest and a sheepish grin.
"You looked like you were about to explode during that corruption bit."
Gray gave a weak chuckle. "It was a lot. Still is."
Renn nodded. "We all fake understanding for the first few weeks. I'm still trying to wrap my head around how emotions can be an Affinity."
"Emotions?" Gray asked.
"Yeah. There's an Affinity called Despair. It's rare. Most Hollow Strains attune to it. It's weird. You cast based on how miserable you are."
Gray blinked.
'That sounds cruel.'
They exited into the hallway. Ahead, sunlight filtered through the high glass ceiling of the Sanctuary's main corridor.
Gray walked in silence for a moment, thoughts stirring.
Vyre. Affinity. Resonance. Corruption.
His body still ached faintly from the strain of awakening. But for the first time since arriving here, he didn't feel lost. He felt equipped.
And tomorrow's lesson would only bring more.
He glanced at his hand. Beneath the skin, the Wither strain pulsed. Silent. Patient.
Waiting for its next bloom.