The bell's echoes faded, leaving the campus cloaked in an uneasy silence.
From every dorm and classroom, students poured into the courtyard—whispers overlapping, eyes darting toward the western watchtower where crimson lights pulsed in warning.
Ira and Elara stood side by side, the marks on their skin glowing faintly in rhythm with the alarm.
Professor Liora appeared at the front steps, her voice amplified by mana.
"Students, remain calm! There's been a mana breach in the western wing. First-years will return to quarters immediately—faculty will handle containment."
But the crowd didn't move. Fear and curiosity held them still.
Elara leaned closer to Ira, her voice barely a breath. "A mana breach… that means something broke through the barrier, right?"
He nodded. "Something—or someone."
As the professors rushed toward the tower, the mark on Ira's arm flared hotter. A deep vibration rolled through the air, as though calling him. The same light shimmered under Elara's sleeve.
She winced. "It's reacting again."
"Then whatever's out there…" He turned his gaze toward the western wall. "It's calling us."
---
They slipped away from the dispersing students and took the old passageway that cut beneath the alchemy labs. Dust filled the air, and the smell of mana residue clung to the stone.
Elara's footsteps echoed softly. "You really don't like following rules, do you?"
Ira glanced back. "Do you?"
She smiled faintly. "Not when I'm with the one who makes the rules bend."
That almost drew a smirk from him, but the mark pulsed again—harder this time. He gritted his teeth as the pain shot up his arm.
The passage opened into the old garden—a forgotten section of the academy where the protective wards were weakest. The moonlight poured down in silvery streaks, illuminating shattered statues and dead vines.
At the center, a rift shimmered in midair—like a wound in reality, leaking thin strands of black mist. The ground around it was scorched.
"What is that?" Elara whispered.
"A tear," Ira said softly. "Between realms."
The mist coiled and hissed when they approached. The bond marks flared again, bright enough to throw shadows. The rift seemed to notice them—turning its hunger toward their light.
Elara's voice trembled. "It feels alive…"
"Stay back," Ira ordered.
But it was too late. The mist lashed out—tendrils of energy slicing through the air. Instinct took over; he raised his arm, blue mana bursting from his palm in a sudden wall of force. The shockwave shattered nearby stones and hurled them both backward.
When the dust cleared, Ira lay on the ground, coughing. His arm burned, but the rift's light had dimmed. Elara crawled over, eyes wide. "You blocked it—how did you—"
"I don't know," he admitted, breath ragged. "It moved before I could think."
She reached out, hesitated, then placed her hand gently on his shoulder.
"Maybe that's what the bond does. It protects itself."
Their marks pulsed together, softer now, almost calm. The connection between them steadied.
From somewhere above, Professor Liora's voice rang out:
"Who's there? Identify yourselves!"
They exchanged a quick glance—then ran.
---
By the time they reached the dorm corridor again, the bell had stopped. The air felt heavy, still.
Elara leaned against the wall, catching her breath. "You realize we just broke at least five academy laws?"
Ira smirked slightly. "Make it six. I don't plan to report this."
She laughed quietly, the sound fragile but real. Then her expression softened.
"Thank you… for shielding me."
He looked away. "You'd have done the same."
"Maybe," she whispered. "But it means something when you do it."
For a moment, the cold mask he always wore cracked—just enough for her to see the faint warmth behind his eyes.
Then, just as suddenly, he turned. "We shouldn't talk here. Someone's coming."
As they walked away, neither noticed the faint silhouette watching from the end of the hall—eyes glinting red, whispering into the shadows:
> "The bond has awakened. Just like before."