The dormitory hall smelled like dust and fresh paint.
Someone had tried to renovate recently. The floors were new. The walls weren't. You could still see the faint outlines where old fixtures had been ripped out.
Aiden found his room number posted on a board near the entrance.
East Wing. Floor three. Room 318.
He didn't rush. The faster you moved in places like this, the more you looked nervous.
The stairwell echoed with footsteps. Voices bounced off concrete. Some were already laughing, relieved the first test hadn't killed them. Others were too quiet.
Room 318 was at the end of the hall.
The door was already open.
Aiden paused before stepping in.
Three beds. Metal frames. Plain desks pushed against opposite walls. One window overlooking the inner courtyard.
Two people were already there.
The tall guy from the stairs — expensive jacket now folded neatly on his bed — was arguing with someone.
"I'm telling you, seventy-two isn't bad. The array was suppressing output."
The other boy sat cross-legged on the floor, unpacking calmly.
"Everyone was suppressed," he said without looking up. "That was the point."
The tall boy noticed Aiden first.
"Oh. Roommate."
Aiden stepped inside and set his bag on the bed closest to the door.
The quieter boy finally looked up.
His eyes were sharp in a way that didn't match his relaxed posture.
"You scored forty-one," he said.
Not a question.
Aiden met his gaze. "You were watching everyone."
"I was watching instability patterns."
The tall one snorted. "You sound like a manual."
The quiet boy ignored him and extended a hand toward Aiden.
"Kael."
Aiden shook it briefly. Firm grip. Warm palm. Steady.
"Thorne," the tall one said, gesturing to himself. "Gravity alignment. You?"
Aiden didn't hesitate.
"Interference."
Both of them paused.
Kael's eyebrow lifted slightly.
Thorne frowned. "What does that even do?"
"Depends."
That was all Aiden offered.
Thorne seemed dissatisfied but let it drop.
They unpacked in silence for a few minutes. Metal hangers scraped. Zippers pulled open. Fabric rustled.
From the courtyard below, a sharp noise cracked the air.
Not loud. Just distinct.
All three of them turned toward the window.
Another sound followed. This one heavier.
Something had hit the ground.
Thorne stood first. "Training already?"
Kael was already at the window, looking down.
Aiden joined him.
The courtyard lights had shifted to a dim red hue. Faculty were moving quickly — not running, but fast enough that it wasn't routine.
In the center of the courtyard, the air shimmered.
A distortion.
It wasn't large. No bigger than a doorway.
But it wasn't supposed to be there.
A student stood too close to it.
Aiden recognized him — one of the earlier high scorers.
The distortion pulsed.
The student flinched.
And then something stepped halfway through.
It wasn't fully visible. Shape didn't hold still long enough. A limb that bent wrong. Surface that looked like it was built from fractured light.
Thorne swore under his breath.
"That's not part of orientation."
Kael didn't answer.
Aiden felt his core react again.
Not like earlier.
This wasn't testing pressure.
This was wrong frequency.
The thing moved.
Fast.
The student tried to activate his ability. A golden shimmer flickered over his skin, but it stuttered like bad signal.
The distortion pulsed again.
The shimmer broke.
The student hit the ground hard.
Faculty reacted immediately. Two instructors stepped forward together, resonance flaring in controlled bursts. The air tightened around the distortion. The creature's form blurred.
It didn't scream.
It just… flickered.
Then snapped backward, vanishing as the distortion collapsed inward.
Silence.
Red lighting faded.
The fallen student wasn't moving.
Aiden's jaw tightened.
"That looked like activation failure," Kael said quietly.
Thorne glanced at him. "You saying he messed up?"
"I'm saying something disrupted him."
Aiden didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
He'd felt it.
A timing break.
A hitch in frequency right before the failure.
Interference hummed faintly in his chest in response, like it recognized something.
Footsteps thundered in the hallway outside their room.
A knock followed seconds later.
Hard.
Thorne opened the door.
The short-haired instructor from earlier stood there.
Up close, her presence felt heavier.
"All first-years remain inside your assigned rooms until further notice," she said. "Lock your doors. If you sense irregular resonance, report it immediately. Do not attempt engagement."
Her gaze shifted past Thorne and settled briefly on Aiden.
Only a second.
But long enough.
"Understood?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Thorne answered quickly.
The door shut.
The hallway noise moved away.
Silence returned to the room.
Thorne ran a hand through his hair. "So that's normal, right? Scheduled threat exposure? They probably staged it."
"No," Kael said.
Aiden sat down on his bed.
He stared at his hands.
The activation failure hadn't felt random.
It had felt… assisted.
A subtle misalignment at the exact moment of output.
Too clean to be panic.
Too precise to be accident.
Thorne was still talking. "If that thing was an Outer Noise breach, containment was quick. Means security's tight. Which is good. Obviously."
Kael looked at Aiden again.
"You felt it too," he said.
Aiden didn't look up. "Felt what?"
"The delay."
There it was.
Aiden leaned back against the wall casually.
"Everyone felt pressure."
"That wasn't pressure."
Kael's tone didn't sharpen. It stayed even. Observant.
"The activation stuttered before suppression. That's not how a suppression field works."
Thorne blinked between them. "You two are talking like we're analysts."
Aiden finally met Kael's gaze.
"And what do you think caused it?" Aiden asked.
Kael held his stare.
"Something inside the courtyard."
Not outside.
Inside.
Aiden looked toward the window again.
The courtyard was empty now. Clean.
Too clean.
Whatever stepped through that distortion hadn't acted randomly.
And the activation failure had been surgical.
His Interference frequency stirred again, reacting not with aggression—
But recognition.
Someone else had touched that moment.
Subtly.
And whoever it was had better control than him.
Thorne lay back on his bed with a groan. "Great. First day and we already almost die."
Kael didn't respond.
Aiden's thoughts moved quietly.
If that disruption came from a student…
That meant two things.
One —
There was someone here who could manipulate timing at a high level.
Two —
They were willing to use it without hesitation.
He'd kept his score low for a reason.
Now he had to figure out who hadn't.
Because if someone in this academy could interfere better than he could…
That wasn't competition.
That was a threat.
A soft chime echoed through the hallway speakers.
"Lockdown lifted," a mechanical voice announced. "All first-years report to central hall in ten minutes."
Thorne sat up.
"See? Probably planned."
Kael stood slowly.
Aiden remained seated for one more second.
Then he rose as well.
Planned or not, someone had just tested something.
And the test subject had been a student.
He slipped his hands into his pockets and followed the others toward the door.
Forty-one didn't matter anymore.
Someone in this building was experimenting.
And Aiden had just felt their fingerprint brush against his own frequency.
That wasn't coincidence.
That was contact.