The academy bells rang one final time.
Not the sharp, commanding clang used for alarms or assemblies—but the softer tone reserved for dismissal.
It rolled across Starcrest Cultivators Academy like a settling breath, signaling the end of a day that had shaken every first-year to their core.
Instructor Halden Voss stood at the front of the courtyard, hands clasped behind his back, gaze steady.
"Training begins tomorrow," he said.
No flourish.
No threat.
No reassurance.
Just fact.
The words landed heavier than any punishment.
Around him, students began to move—slowly at first, then in clusters. Some whispered anxiously.
Others laughed too loudly, masking fear with bravado. A few walked in silence, staring at their hands as if expecting them to change.
Groups A through H dispersed toward their respective residential districts.
Group F lingered for a moment.
Rayden Wolfe cracked his neck, lightning flickering faintly around his shoulders. "Great. Tomorrow we get tortured by seniors."
Liora Ashwyn adjusted the strap of her bag, expression calm but eyes thoughtful. "You call it torture. They call it guidance."
Rayden scoffed. "Same thing, different branding."
Kayden Arin said nothing.
He was already half a step ahead, moving toward the outer gates.
Rayden noticed and frowned. "You always walk like that," he muttered. "Like you're already somewhere else."
Kayden paused briefly, glanced back.
"Home," he said.
Then he continued on.
Behind his ribs, something pulsed—quiet, patient.
Waiting.
Kayden's Way Home
Starcrest City glowed softly under the evening sky.
Lanterns lined the streets, powered by low-grade elemental crystals. Merchants called out last-minute deals. Cultivators passed by in flowing robes, armor, or simple clothes, power levels hidden behind practiced neutrality.
Kayden walked through it all unnoticed.
He liked it that way.
His path led him away from the academy's grandeur into a quieter district—older buildings, narrower streets, fewer guards.
The kind of place most ambitious cultivators ignored.
He stopped in front of a modest apartment complex.
Three floors. Faded stone. A single protective seal carved into the doorframe—old, but strong.
Home.sweet home.
Kayden reached for the door—
It opened before he knocked.
"You're late," Master Leonhart said.
Kayden blinked. "It's barely evening."
Leonhart snorted, stepping aside. "You left the academy alive. That's late enough."
The old man was tall, broad-shouldered despite his age, silver hair tied back loosely. His eyes—sharp, calculating—swept over Kayden in a single glance.
"No blood," Leonhart muttered. "No limp. No shattered meridians."
He sighed. "Disappointing."
Kayden allowed a small smile. "Sorry to let you down."
Leonhart grunted and closed the door.
The apartment smelled like ink, old paper, and tea.
Scrolls were stacked everywhere—on shelves, tables, even the floor. Ancient texts sat beside half-disassembled artifacts. A kettle hissed softly in the corner.
Leonhart dropped into a chair and gestured for Kayden to sit.
"So," he said. "Tell me how badly they messed up."
Kayden removed his bag, setting it aside. "We entered the Ruin Zone."
Leonhart's fingers stilled.
"…Continue."
"Rank IV Ruins Guardian," Kayden said evenly. "Group F engaged. We lasted six minutes."
Leonhart let out a low whistle. "Six is generous."
"We used the emergency talisman," Kayden added.
Leonhart leaned back, eyes narrowing. "And you didn't listen."
It wasn't a question.
Kayden shook his head. "No."
For the first time that evening, Leonhart smiled.
"Good."
Kayden hesitated. "They assigned mentors."
Leonhart's smile faded slightly. "Who?"
Kayden thought back to the lazy posture.
The unreadable gaze.
"Primyte."
Leonhart's cup cracked in his hand.
Tea spilled onto the table.
"…I see," Leonhart said slowly.
Kayden frowned. "You know him."
Leonhart wiped the table, movements deliberate. "Yes. And no."
He looked at Kayden seriously. "If he's watching you… then others will too."
Kayden met his gaze. "I'll be careful."
Leonhart exhaled. "I know. That's what worries me."
Silence settled.
Then Leonhart waved a hand. "Eat. Sleep. Tomorrow, pretend you're weak."
Kayden stood. "I always do."
Leonhart watched him go, eyes lingering briefly on the pendant hidden beneath Kayden's shirt.
It glowed faintly.
Then dimmed.
Rayden Wolfe stormed through iron gates etched with lightning runes.
The estate was large—wide courtyards, reinforced walls, training grounds scarred by years of elemental practice. Power hummed in the air.
"Rayden!" a voice called.
A woman approached, smiling warmly.
His mother—Elara Wolfe—pulled him into a brief embrace. "You're late."
"Academy stuff," Rayden muttered.
A man stood nearby, arms crossed.
Tall. Broad. Stern.
Garrick Wolfe.
"How did you perform?" Garrick asked.
Rayden shrugged. "Fine."
Garrick raised an eyebrow.
Rayden sighed. "We lost."
Silence.
Then Elara laughed lightly. "Well, at least you're honest."
Garrick studied his son. "Who trained you?"
"No one yet," Rayden said. "But tomorrow—some senior named Primyte."
Garrick's expression hardened.
"…That name again."
Rayden frowned. "Again?"
Elara touched Garrick's arm. "Let him eat first."
Garrick nodded once. "Do not underestimate your mentor," he said.
"Especially one who hides his strength."
Rayden scoffed—but unease crept in.
Liora entered a house of quiet elegance.
Soft light. Flowing curtains. The hum of mind-and-spirit wards layered delicately across the walls.
Her parents waited in the sitting room.
Eldrin Ashwyn, composed and observant.
Maelis Ashwyn, eyes gentle but sharp.
"You're exhausted," Maelis said immediately.
Liora smiled faintly. "Mentally."
Eldrin poured tea. "Tell us."
Liora spoke of the Ruin Zone. The guardian. The talisman.
"And your teammates?" Maelis asked.
"Rayden is powerful," Liora said. "Unstable. Kayden is…"
She paused.
"…Quiet."
Eldrin exchanged a glance with Maelis.
"Be careful," he said softly. "Silence often hides depth."
Liora nodded.
Night fell over Starcrest.
Three homes. Three thoughts.
Kayden lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
Rayden trained until sparks burned his hands.
Liora meditated, sensing threads she could not name.
And beneath it all—
The system waited.
Tomorrow, training would begin.
And secrets would be tested.