For all its grandeur, the Academy of Echelon had corners where even light hesitated.
Enzo stood on the fourth-tier balcony outside the East Tower, the night air crisp, his coat fluttering against the metal rail. The view of the neon-scarred skyline offered no peace tonight. Below, the lights of Echelon shimmered in symmetrical perfection, masking the fractures running through its foundation.
He hated how easy it had become to walk among them.
A soft ping vibrated from the comm hidden beneath his collar. Kael's voice came through, quiet and precise:
"Preliminary scans indicate relic energy residue in the East Archives. Someone accessed Cain's original schematics last cycle. Might be time to cover your tracks, Zero."
Enzo exhaled slowly. "Understood."
He ended the call and walked back toward the dormitory levels. The weight of Cain, dormant but ever-present, rested at the small of his back beneath his cloak. Even without drawing the blade, it felt like it watched the world with him.
---
The next morning, the Academy felt different.
Tavien Rhys had barely spoken during their training simulation. Normally, he was all commentary—clever, passionate, justice-bound. But today, he seemed distant. His responses in the exercise were clipped, eyes focused more on Enzo than the holograms.
After drills ended, Tavien caught up to him in the corridor, just past the west atrium.
"You held back," he said.
Enzo paused. "Excuse me?"
"During the trial against Varek," Tavien clarified. "You could've ended it faster. Cleaner. But you didn't."
Enzo kept walking. "It was a trial. Not a war."
"That's not the point." Tavien's voice dropped. "You fight like you've been trained since birth. That's not just academy talent. That's... real. Field real."
Enzo gave a half-shrug. "I trained after I left. Had to survive."
"You were gone for three years, Enzo. No records. No tracking. And now you're back with better reflexes than elite cadets."
Enzo turned, facing him. "Is there a question you're trying to ask?"
Tavien hesitated. "I'm your friend. You don't have to lie to me."
"That's exactly why I have to."
They stared at each other for a moment. Tavien's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes dimmed.
He stepped back. "Whatever you're doing… don't make me the one who has to stop you."
Enzo watched him leave. Tavien's loyalty to justice was unshakeable. And that made him both dangerous and valuable.
---
Lyra had been patient. For days, she had observed, listened, waited.
She wasn't interested in rumors or bravado. She paid attention to details. Enzo's gait. The hesitation in his answers. The way he always sat near exits. How his eyes scanned rooms like someone who expected an ambush.
Something had changed in him. And her instincts screamed it wasn't just trauma.
That night, while the academy lights dimmed into night mode, she slipped out of her quarters and followed Enzo's path. He had passed near the restricted archive wing three times this week, always alone, always after curfew.
She crept through the glass corridor leading toward the East Archives, her boots silent on the composite floor. At the end of the hall, near the sealed relic gate, she found it:
A faint scorch mark on the door panel.
Barely visible, almost faded—but it was there. A relic flare. Cain's signature.
Lyra stepped back. Her breath caught.
No one should have been near that door. No student even knew what lay beyond it. And Cain? That weapon had been lost in the early wars.
She turned, her eyes narrowing. Her mind spun with memories—of Enzo before he disappeared. Softer. Slower. Kind.
He had returned sharper. Not broken. Sharpened.
---
The next day, she approached him.
They stood under the shade of the atrium garden trees, synthetic sunlight trickling through leaves that weren't real. Enzo had been sketching something—random lines in a notebook, a habit he'd never quite lost.
"You went near the archives," she said.
He didn't look up. "Just a walk."
"There was a relic signature."
Now he looked at her. Calm. Controlled. But his pen stilled.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said evenly.
Lyra leaned closer. "I'm not accusing you, Enzo. I'm warning you. Whoever accessed that room will be flagged by the Academy's inner council."
He closed the notebook. "Thanks for the warning."
She hesitated. "You've changed. Not just grown. You're carrying something. Secrets… maybe scars."
Enzo stood. "We all are, Lyra. That's what growing up under tyranny does."
Their eyes met. For a moment, the wall between them flickered.
Then he walked away.
Lyra remained in the garden, watching the leaves sway, her thoughts a storm.
She didn't know what Enzo was hiding.
But whatever it was… it had teeth.