Chapter 3 – Thresholds (Part 3)
He had miles of learning to put between himself and the door he had walked through. But he had entered. The hinge had held.
Evening Audit
The refectory's noise was kinder the second night—less like a test, more like an invitation. Kara shoved a bowl of stew under his nose and a heel of bread into his hand even though they both knew.
"It helps me to pretend," she said. "Let me."
He held the bread. That was enough.
They found a corner under a sketch of the river. After food that wasn't his, after laughter that was, after a bell that suggested, not ordered, they walked out under ironwood again.
Kara stopped under the stone arch. "Say it again," she said.
"The vow?"
"Yes."
He faced stone that had survived more wars than he could name and spoke softly. "No hidden steel drawn against scholar or soil."
Kara touched the green thread at her wrist. "Good. Because tomorrow I have to boil something that will bite me back if I'm careless, and I'd rather you be a person beside me than a blade I can't hide."
"I will be a person beside you," he said.
[Behavioral tag: promise recorded.] [Note: binding strength increases with repetition.] [Advisory: keep your promises, KrysKo O'Ruadhraigh.]
The warm voice smiled. He's learning. He's learning.
A bell's single note drifted across the courtyards. KrysKo set his back to the stone and his eyes to the door of Dorm E, where Kara's candle made a small, stubborn sun.
[End-of-day audit complete.] [Progression event: Level Up.] [Capabilities: smoothed. Control loops: refined. Emotional modulation: improved.] [Stats withheld per milestone cadence.] [Next: South labs (Myles); Mechanum bay observation; maintain cover; remain human.]
Sleep if you can, the warm voice said. Watch if you must. Either way—keep that vow close. The world outside buys men who forget. The world inside teaches those who remember.
Footsteps whispered at the far end of the arcade. Warden Senn passed the mouth of the archway without looking in, then paused one beat too long. When she moved again, something white and square slid under the edge of the door to Dorm E.
KrysKo crossed the stones, lifted the paper, and felt the weight of an official seal. He broke the wax.
By the Order of the Wardens and the Office of Entry
Candidate KrysKo O'Ruadhraigh
Present at Sun-Bell to Scentwarden Tahl and Master Halvek
Purpose: Verification of Vow, Olfactory Audit, Combat Review
Sponsor to attend. — A. Senn
He read it twice.
Questions are doors, the warm voice murmured. You don't always choose when they open. But you can choose how you walk through.
He stood the rest of the night under Kara's window. At first bell, Kara came down the dorm steps with ink on her fingers. He held the summons out.
"An audit this early means somebody asked a question," she said.
"Then we answer," he replied.
Kara looped the green thread at her wrist. "Scentwarden Tahl is fair. Halvek too. Senn is… Senn."
"She prefers stupid to cruel," KrysKo said.
That startled a smile. "You listened."
"I intend to keep remembering."
The Trial of Knives Without Knives
The University didn't sound like a refuge. It sounded like a decision.
Administration had colonized the forward wedge of an old library. A clerk with a necklace of copper washers and a perpetual pen flicked Kara's charter open, softened at Myles, and then looked up at KrysKo.
"And him?" she asked.
"My guard," Kara said. "With me."
"Name?"
"KrysKo O'Ruadhraigh."
"Program?"
"Combat. Field strategy. Anything that keeps people living," KrysKo said.
The clerk's pen hovered. "Provisional entry. Evaluation with Mestre Corvo. If he says you're safe, you're safe—for today. Dorm after."
"Mess first," the clerk added. "Soup steadies hands."
They ate. At a ship-hull table, a knot of students practiced staring without manners.
"New?" Tovin Marr asked. "Or lost?"
"Here to learn," Kara said. "Kara Myles."
Tovin's gaze slid to KrysKo. "Your guard looks like he could kill a Drakari with a shirt button."
"If a shirt were all he had," KrysKo said, "he'd borrow your button."
Tovin's smile sharpened. "Applied combat theory. I'll be looking for you in the yard."
The combat yard yawned long and honest. A man leaned under the awning: spare, iron-calm, hair close, wrists taped. Mestre Corvo.
"What do you think you are?" Corvo asked.
KrysKo didn't lie. "An axis. A hinge."
Corvo's mouth almost smiled. "We'll see what swings on you. No blades. No blood if you can help it. Hit to tell the truth, not to win."
KrysKo set the scarf on the fence, stepped into chalk.
[Constraints: Blades locked (public).] [Limiter: output modulation — moderate.] [Record: observation/replication only.]
KrysKo slid into ginga. Corvo stepped just outside the music—where rhythm hasn't noticed you yet.
"Capoeira," Corvo said.
"Good for dancing through knives," KrysKo answered.
"Try."
Corvo showed a jab and made a different promise—the hook. KrysKo's System started tagging: [Base: Western boxing. Entries: Muay Thai. Grapple ghosting: Judo hips.]
Corvo touched KrysKo's wrist like greeting a dog that might bite. KrysKo showed a palm to the sky and let the leash run out of road.
"Mm," Corvo said.
KrysKo dropped weight, threatened a sweep, planted a hand where a blade wasn't and retracted from muscle memory so clean only Corvo's eyes saw the choice.
"Retract," Corvo said.
"Extend," KrysKo murmured.
Truths traded quick. Corvo's low kick came up late; KrysKo slid over the track like water and kissed the inside of Corvo's ankle with his heel—I saw you.
"Good," Corvo said, and stopped teaching gentle.
The System stopped labeling and started modeling Corvo: [Deceptive collapse. Counter-timing prob: 0.62 on step three.]
At nine minutes, Corvo committed to see the engine under the hood. He stepped a half beat deeper, elbow finishing the sentence. KrysKo took it—meia lua de compasso, heel singing through where a head would've been. He let the kick become a sweep; Corvo hopped; both rose in one breath; both took each other's wrist in the next.
Here the System offered the clean, surgical path:
[VOW CONFLICT] High. Deploying lethal tools violates Myles Charter + University Code. [EFFICIENCY WARNING] Lethal path: 98%. Non-lethal path: 71%.
KrysKo ignored the logic scream. He forced his body into the less efficient, non-violent arc.
"Hold," Corvo said. "Again."
They collided, and the world narrowed to timing, wood, and choice. Corvo's vault came an inch too slow; KrysKo's rasteira grazed the ankle.
A bell struck once. Corvo raised a hand. "Stop."
"You could have taken my weapon five times," Corvo said.
"I chose not to," KrysKo replied.
Corvo tapped the staff once on the stone. "That choice is the only weapon that matters here, O'Ruadhraigh." He turned toward the fence. "Provisional passed. Put it in ink."
Warden Aria Senn's chin tucked: a note made for later.
"Two rules," Corvo told KrysKo, low. "You don't showcase in the yard. You don't make people bleed for pride."
"Agreed," KrysKo said.
Incident Report: Phase Lock Failure
The sky changed its mind. A tremor shivered the dome's ribs. A long, whale-deep moan rolled the campus.
[Alert: Structural Resonance Anomaly.] [Source: East Manifold.] [Severity: High.]
Corvo was already walking. "With me."
Kara appeared at a run. "Go. I'll prep the infirmary."
"Go," she said again, and was gone.
They reached the East Manifold. Two engineers were elbow-deep in a panel that spat white arcs. "We're losing phase lock," one barked. "Architect spine won't sing in tune with the Ophilim cap. If we push, we blow—"
"—the quarter," Corvo supplied.
"Two mitts and a terrible idea," a voice said—already inside the machine.
Jax arrived like he'd fallen out of a vent: lean, grease-fingered, visor shoved up, grin held on with wire. "Don't panic. Panic efficiently."
"Marrow," the poet groaned.
"Hello strangers. I'm Jax. Hand me the tri-prism." He found his own: a blunt, triangular crystal the color of old ice. He wedged the prism between two ribs, looped a copper braid, and grafted a human fuse sideways.
"You—long arms," he said to KrysKo. "Anchor the spine when I say. Don't ground yourself unless you like the smell of regret."
KrysKo palmed crystal. Heat poured up his forearms. The prism drank. The bus screamed. The shield above them flared, then found a clean white that sounded like relief.
Sirens stepped down a note.
Corvo scratched his jaw. "You broke it worse and made it better."
"It was just dramatic," Jax said. "And you," he declared, looking at KrysKo, "are a project."
"A person," KrysKo corrected.
"Right. And also a project."
A runner hit the gantry. "Admin wants placements before second bell. Caravans inbound. Bunks now."
Corvo made a quick decision.
"Maintenance owns you when you remember to sleep." Chin at Jax. "Keep saving quarters and you get a bed that doesn't fight back."
"I accept your terms."
"Provisional combat," Corvo told KrysKo. "He doesn't sleep. He doesn't bleed for pride. He keeps promises. Room with the tinkerer. North Dorm, Twelve."
The runner scribbled.
They crossed lantern pools toward North Dorm. Jax shouldered door Twelve open. Two narrow beds. One bed had lost a war with parts.
"Make yourself at home," Jax said, kicking a path through his genius.
KrysKo laid his scarf on the empty bed.
"About your… aroma," Jax said, and tossed a thumb-high ceramic vial with a brass atomizer. The stencil said: meat & mistakes. "Salt, trace lactate, copper, smoke, the ghost of mint. Two spritzes."
"Tomorrow," KrysKo said. "We have formalities."
"Sun-Bell sermon," Jax groaned. "I'll bring snacks."
KrysKo fixed the provisional pin to his bracer. He took the window.
You did the work that needed doing. And you kept your hands gentle when you could have made them loud.
Down the corridor, someone tuned a stringed instrument. In the rafters outside, a small, dark drone the color of dusk tucked itself against a brace and watched the hallway.
Morning would put a notice on the board:
FIELD ROTATIONS — PROVISIONAL COHORTS
Escort & salvage: South Farms
Cohort Nine — Myles (K.), Marrow (J.), O'Ruadhraigh (K.)
Oversight: Warden Senn
Ranger Liaison: Ronan Veyne
He held the quiet a little longer, then closed his eyes—not sleeping, exactly—and let the University breathe him into its night.
KrysKo Status Report
Stat
Allocation (Level Up)
Current Value (Lvl 7)
Strength 20
Agility 19
Endurance 19 (+1)
Intelligence 17
Perception 20
Charisma 17
Luck 14
Willpower 18
KrysKo has reached Level 7! You had 1 Unspent Attribute Point. For enduring the combat trial and the system overload, +1 was automatically allocated to Endurance. Your core programming prioritizes physical integrity in high-stress situations.
Experience: 480 / 600.
Skills: Fluid Form (Capoeira efficiency 100%), Harmonic Pulse (Area disruption / Countermeasure), Scent Profile Editor (Human Baseline v1)
Inventory: Data Shards (53), Corrupted Shard (95), Pustule Node (3), Guardian Core (1), Bronze-grade armor, Healing Vial (1), Bracers (Disguise/Armature Masking), Meat & Mistakes Scent Vial (1).
New Quest Chain: University Paths (Stage 3/3)
The previous quest was updated, as the combat trial served as the "University Combat Trial" quest reward. We now move directly to the next stage, which reflects the new assignment.
Objective: Complete the provisional rotation assignment (Field Rotation: South Farms). Work with new cohort members, including Jax and Tovin Marr, and report to Warden Senn.
Goal: Successfully execute the Escort & Salvage without revealing KrysKo's true nature or breaking the Vow.
Reward upon Completion:
EXP: +1000 EXP
Skill Upgrade: Unlock Deep Scan (Lvl 1) – ability to scan specific objects/areas for hidden data (Architect/Ophilim technology).
Loot: One random high-tier University Consumable.