The morning air was charged.
Not the usual, static-filled energy of the artificial dome skies—but something deeper. A shift in rhythm. The kind that made even the instructors move with subtle urgency. Cadets murmured between training halls, upperclassmen walked in tighter formations, and everywhere Kael looked, people were watching him—but no longer just out of curiosity.
Now, they watched with expectation.
Something was coming.
And it wasn't just the summit.
Kael walked into the Grand Hall just before morning brief. The vast glass chamber shimmered with projected landscapes—coded simulations of far-off zones, battlefields, and forgotten territories.
Lira, Renna, Dane, and Rylen were already seated near the central stair, whispering over a shared datapad.
Dane glanced up. "Guess what's back on the schedule?"
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Midterm audits?"
"Worse," Lira said. "Field integration training."
Kael frowned.
That was usually reserved for second-years—military-grade field simulations conducted off-campus in specially controlled wilderness zones, combining survival, combat, and strategy evaluations under instructor oversight.
"Why us?" he asked.
"Because someone's stirring the pot," Renna said. "Word is the upper command wants to 'stress test the next generation of elites.' Mix cadets from different bloodlines. Combine class ranks. See who breaks."
Kael looked to Lira.
She nodded. "It's official. Assignment begins next cycle. We'll be moved into mixed-class squads and deployed into one of the outer training zones. Real terrain. Real threats. Real competition."
Dane groaned. "We're going to get stuck babysitting entitled core-heirs who think shouting their surname counts as leadership."
Kael didn't respond.
Because part of him knew—he wouldn't be paired with his team this time.
They'd split him.
On purpose.
Later that day, Kael sat alone in the archive wing, flipping through outdated mission logs on a silent terminal. The stillness helped him think.
Aegis spoke in his mind.
"The field training isn't just a test. It's a stage."
"For the families, for the factions within Regis, and for your enemies to see what kind of variable you are in an uncontrolled environment."
Kael nodded slowly.
"I'll play the game."
"Then you must expect pieces to move against you."
Just then, the terminal flickered.
And a new message appeared, encrypted and unlabeled.
Kael's pulse slowed as he read it.
It wasn't from Silas.
And it wasn't from a known channel.
It was older—buried in a protocol Kael had only seen once before, when Aegis had first awakened inside the pendant.
"You are not the only survivor of the forgotten line.""There are others. Some still asleep. Some… watching you.""The ring you carry marks you for the path. But be warned: rings were made not just to guide—but to bind.""If you walk this road alone, you may burn. If you want answers, come to the Blackway Canyon. Alone. Before the outing begins."
No sender.
No trace.
But Aegis's voice was sharp, almost alarmed.
"That encryption… it's Codex-based. Which means the sender has access to ancestral keys. Possibly… from your family."
Kael sat back.
Someone else had the Codex?
Or worse—someone else was using it.
He closed the message, but the weight of the words stayed with him.
There were others.
And they were watching.
The next morning, the entire academy gathered in Sector Theta's auditorium for the official mission briefing. Holograms flickered to life, showing Zone Nine, a vast and untamed terrain built into a hollowed-out Earth rift—simulated mountains, weather conditions, bio-engineered flora and fauna, and relic remnants from the Old War.
Director Ryce stood at the podium, her voice carrying across the seated ranks.
"This year's Field Integration Training will be conducted in Zone Nine: The Cradle Rift."
Cadets whispered.
Kael had read about that place.
An unstable simulation zone, known for high-failure rates and real-death accidents. Only top-performing teams had been allowed to train there. Until now.
"This year," Ryce continued, "we are altering the format. Teams will be randomized across class levels, family ranks, and specialties. You will operate in squads of five. Your objectives are multi-layered: survive, complete your task node, retrieve the relay key, and return within seventy-two hours."
Dane whispered to Kael, "What the hell is a relay key?"
"No idea," Kael muttered. "But I'm guessing it's going to get a lot of people hurt."
"Points will be awarded based on performance, cooperation, and leadership," Ryce said. "But failure to return will result in full academic penalties and evaluation review."
The projection changed again.
Squad assignments appeared in the air.
And Kael's name wasn't next to his team's.
He scanned quickly—heart still—but knew before he saw it.
He'd been pulled.
His new squad:
Kael Vire
Silas Caellum
Asha Vorrik(House Vorrik, bio-sensory manipulation)
Tarin Zhao(telekinetic acceleration)
Neyra Tross(standard class, combat specialist)
Lira turned to him, already reading it on his face.
"You're not with us," she said.
Kael nodded once. "They're testing me."
"They're using you," she corrected.
"Same thing."
She looked away. "Just come back."
The following evening, Kael packed light—only what he needed. Standard mission suit. Reinforced gauntlets. Emergency capsule. Field knife. Pendant hidden beneath his collar.
Silas was already waiting near the hangar gates.
"I hope you brought more than a good reputation," Silas said. "Cradle Rift doesn't care about politics."
Kael adjusted his strap. "Good. I don't care about them either."
They locked eyes.
And for the first time—there was no animosity between them.
Just clarity.
They were no longer rivals.
They were allies on a path neither could afford to fail.
As they boarded the dropcraft, Kael looked out the window at the approaching rift. Stormclouds roared above it. Giant arcs of lightning surged through the false atmosphere. And somewhere deep within it… the test that mattered was waiting.
Not just against environment.
Not just against elite cadets.
But against something real.
Because the Rift had a reputation.
A whisper.
That every few years… something from the Old War woke up in there.
And this time, it would meet Kael Vire.