Morning arrived without ceremony.
No alarms.
No explosions.
No dramatic summons.
Yet Starcrest Cultivators Academy felt tense in a way Kayden Arin had learned to recognize.
It was the quiet before pressure.
Students streamed through the gates earlier than usual, their conversations hushed, steps measured.
Even the loudest among them—those who laughed too much, bragged too easily—spoke in lower tones today.
The Ruin Zone failure still lingered like a bruise no one wanted to touch.
Kayden walked alone, hands in his pockets, gaze forward.
Behind his ribs—
[SYSTEM: ENVIRONMENTAL SHIFT DETECTED.]
[STATUS: MONITORING.]
No suggestions.
No commands.
Just awareness.
The academy's outer training fields stretched wide and bare, stone platforms arranged in concentric circles.
These grounds weren't used for basic sparring—they were meant for controlled chaos.
Eight groups stood at assigned markers.
Group F gathered near the eastern platform.
Rayden Wolfe rolled his shoulders, lightning flickering faintly along his arms.
"So," he muttered, "any bets on how bad this gets?"
Liora Ashwyn adjusted her gloves. "Complaining already?"
"I call it preparation," Rayden replied.
"Mentally bracing myself."
Kayden said nothing.
He was watching the ground.
Not the stone—but the air above it.
Something felt… uneven.
"Where's our mentor?" Rayden asked, glancing around. "Everyone else is here."
Group D was already being yelled at by Bran Halvor—his booming voice carrying across the field.
Group A stood rigid under Cain Mercer's silent scrutiny.
Nyx Calder had already vanished with Group G.
Only Group F waited.
Five minutes passed.
Ten.
Rayden scowled. "We're being disrespected."
Liora frowned. "Or tested."
Kayden shifted his weight.
Then—
"Morning."
The word came from behind them.
All three turned.
Primyte stood there, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded, as if he'd been there the whole time and they were late.
Rayden jumped. "Where did you—?!"
Primyte yawned. "If you didn't notice me, that's on you."
Liora straightened instinctively. Kayden simply met his gaze.
For a brief moment—
The air thickened.
Kayden felt it.
The system hesitated.
[SYSTEM: EXTERNAL VARIABLE—]
[PROCESSING…]
Primyte tilted his head slightly.
Then the pressure vanished.
"Huh," he said quietly. "Interesting."
Primyte turned and walked toward the center of the platform.
"Follow," he said.
Rayden bristled. "That's it? No explanation?"
Primyte didn't turn around. "You're free to leave."
Rayden opened his mouth—
A faint hum filled the air.
The academy's boundary seals flared briefly.
Rayden swallowed and shut up.
They followed.
Primyte stopped at the center and finally faced them.
"Rule one," he said. "I don't care how strong you think you are."
Rayden frowned. Liora listened. Kayden observed.
"Rule two," Primyte continued, "if you activate your abilities without permission, you're done for the day."
Rayden blinked. "That's—"
"Rule three," Primyte cut in, "if you argue, you're done for the week."
Silence.
Primyte nodded. "Good. We understand each other."
Rayden muttered, "Barely."
Primyte's gaze flicked to him.
Rayden stiffened.
"…Sir."
Primyte smiled faintly. "Progress."
Lesson One: Stillness
Primyte snapped his fingers.
The ground beneath them shifted.
Stone rose—not violently, but smoothly—forming narrow pillars beneath each student's feet.
Kayden landed easily.
Rayden stumbled, lightning flaring instinctively before he clamped it down.
Liora steadied herself, breath controlled.
"You will stand," Primyte said, sitting down cross-legged on the ground below, "for one hour."
Rayden stared. "Doing what?"
"Nothing."
Liora blinked. "This is… training?"
Primyte shrugged. "If you fall, you're done."
Rayden clenched his teeth. "That's ridiculous."
"Then fall," Primyte replied calmly.
Rayden shut up.
Minutes passed.
Wind brushed the training field.
Rayden's lightning twitched uselessly.
Liora focused inward.
Kayden simply stood.
Behind his ribs—
[SYSTEM: BALANCE MAINTENANCE ACTIVE.]
[RECOMMENDATION: MICRO-ADJUSTMENT—]
Kayden ignored it.
The pillar beneath Rayden's foot wobbled.
He cursed under his breath, barely stabilizing.
Primyte watched.
"Power without patience is noise," he said idly. "And noise attracts predators."
Kayden's eyes narrowed slightly.
Lesson Two: Reaction Without Thought
After thirty minutes, Primyte stood.
"Enough."
The pillars sank.
Rayden nearly collapsed.
Liora exhaled slowly.
Primyte raised a hand.
The air shimmered.
Invisible pressure swept across the platform.
Kayden moved.
Not fast.
Not flashy.
Just—correct.
A half-step back. A slight turn.
The pressure passed where his head had been.
Rayden yelped, barely ducking.
Liora raised a mental barrier just in time.
Primyte's gaze locked onto Kayden.
"You didn't think," he said.
Kayden met his eyes. "I listened."
Primyte smiled thinly. "To what?"
Kayden paused.
"…The moment."
The system pulsed.
[SYSTEM: RESPONSE ACCEPTABLE.]
Primyte looked away.
"Again."
By the fifth invisible strike, Rayden was sweating.
"This is insane!" he snapped. "How am I supposed to dodge something I can't see?!"
Primyte shrugged. "You're not."
Rayden stared. "Then what's the point?!"
"To fail," Primyte said simply. "Safely."
Rayden sputtered. "That's not—!"
Another wave hit.
Rayden tripped.
A boundary seal flared.
Rayden vanished.
Liora gasped. "He—?!"
Primyte waved. "Sent him back to the dorms. He'll be fine."
Kayden blinked.
Liora looked horrified.
Primyte tilted his head. "Lesson learned."
Liora swallowed.
Training ended shortly after.
Rayden did not return.
Liora looked exhausted.
Primyte gestured for Kayden to stay.
Liora hesitated.
"It's fine," Kayden said.
She nodded and left.
Primyte studied Kayden.
"You're unusual," he said.
Kayden waited.
"You don't reach for power," Primyte continued. "You avoid it."
Kayden met his gaze. "Sometimes restraint is survival."
Primyte chuckled. "Sometimes."
He leaned closer.
"Whatever's whispering to you," he said quietly, "don't let it think I'm blind."
The system pulsed—uneasy.
[SYSTEM: OBSERVER DETECTED.]
Kayden said nothing.
Primyte straightened, his posture shifting from casual to deliberate, like a predator finally acknowledging its prey.
His eyes, half-lidded yet sharp, followed Kayden's form as he adjusted the strap of his bag, every movement measured and calm.
"Tomorrow," he said, voice low, yet cutting through the morning air like a steel blade, "we move."
There was no trace of emotion, no hint of encouragement, only a quiet certainty that unsettled the space between them.
Kayden nodded once, almost imperceptibly, the system inside him pulsing faintly—but restrained, obedient, waiting for the right moment.
He turned away, footsteps light, yet deliberate, echoing across the training grounds.
Each step felt like a countdown, a subtle rhythm marking the patience of someone who understood restraint.
Primyte's gaze did not waver; he did not blink. Every fiber of his body, every subtle shift of weight, screamed that he was calculating, predicting, waiting.
"Interesting," he murmured under his breath, the single word heavy with both curiosity and caution. It was not a compliment, nor a warning—it was recognition of potential, of danger, and of an anomaly that refused to surface fully.
Elsewhere, far above, yet somehow entwined with the same flow of observation, Principal Aria Nightfall watched.
Her eyes pierced through layers of protective seals, tracing every subtle movement, every heartbeat, every flicker of intent.
"He's holding," she said softly, her voice a whisper only the shadows could hear, a blend of awe and calculation.
Primyte's presence, distant yet tangible, made no sound, yet his acknowledgment came almost immediately.
"For now," he replied, his tone flat, measured, a barrier between knowledge and interference.
Beneath the academy, far below the stone foundations and enchanted wards, a tremor moved silently.
A space long forgotten stirred—a presence that had lain dormant for decades. It whispered through hidden corridors, etching its awareness into the walls, its gaze sweeping upward toward the surface.
And the system, dormant yet sentient, pulsed once more, a heartbeat in the quiet darkness, a sentinel waiting. Watching. Calculating. Patient.
The world did not yet know, but the first move had been made. And tomorrow, everything would begin.