Kiro didn't sleep.He lay on the narrow dorm bed, helmet visor reflecting the faint lamplight, watching golden threads drift lazily in the corners of his mind's vision.
Most belonged to other students — faint, distant, tangled in dreams.But one was close.Too close.
It was anchored just outside his door.
He sat up slowly, boots hitting the floor without a sound. His hand hovered over the latch, but he didn't open it. Instead, he reached out — a mental touch along the thread.
The figure on the other end stiffened.Kiro smiled under the visor. Got you.
"Planning to lurk there all night?" he said, loud enough to carry through the door.
Silence.
Then a soft voice: "You're not what they think you are."
The latch clicked from the other side, and the door opened a crack. A girl stood there, uniform slightly rumpled, hair black as midnight. Her eyes glowed faintly — Talent at work.
"And you are?" Kiro asked.
"Call me Ara." She slipped inside, shutting the door. "They put you in Class Tau because they can't classify you. But you're not Talentless."
Kiro leaned against the wall. "What makes you so sure?"
Ara tilted her head, studying him. "Because I can see power. It's part of my Talent. Yours is… buried. Shielded. Like it's hiding from the world."
"That's one theory," Kiro said evenly. "Another is that you're wrong."
She stepped closer, voice low. "You beat Torren the Stoneborn without a Talent display. You made him miss. That's not just reflex."
Kiro stayed silent.
Ara's expression sharpened. "Listen, you're not the only one they're keeping an eye on. Wosbildung doesn't recruit late-bloomers out of pity. They recruit for potential weapons. If they figure out what you really are—"
"They won't," Kiro cut in.
Her eyes narrowed. "You sound awfully sure."
He stepped forward, close enough for the golden thread between them to glow bright. He could feel her thoughts dancing just out of reach — cautious, testing.
"Here's the thing, Ara," he said quietly. "If I was hiding something… you wouldn't want to know. Not unless you were ready to be part of it."
For a moment, the air between them was still. Then Ara smirked. "I like dangerous games."
"Good," Kiro replied. "Because the Academy's about to play one with us, whether we like it or not."
A sharp rap on the door interrupted them.
"Initiation trial, Class Tau. Assembly hall. Now," a voice barked from the hall.
Ara glanced at him. "That's not supposed to happen until the end of the month."
"Guess we're special," Kiro said, pulling on his gloves.
They walked into the night-chilled corridors, joining other bleary-eyed Tau students being herded toward the assembly hall.
The instructor from earlier stood on the platform, arms folded. Behind her was a massive steel door Kiro hadn't seen before.
"Change of schedule," she announced. "Tonight, you face the Labyrinth."
Whispers surged through the class.
"The Labyrinth?" Ara muttered under her breath. "That's for advanced combat classes, not—"
"Inside," the instructor barked, gesturing to the steel door. "You pass, you stay. You fail…" She didn't finish the sentence.
Kiro and Ara exchanged a glance as the door ground open, revealing darkness beyond.
Whatever lay inside wasn't just a test.It was a cage.And Kiro could feel golden threads inside — dozens of them, restless, waiting.