The Triangle never slept.
Even at night, the academy hummed with activity—training halls glowing faintly, patrol drones sliding through corridors, students pushing themselves past exhaustion in hopes of climbing just one rank higher.
Tonight, Dreyden moved through it all like a ghost.
He didn't rush.
He didn't linger.
He simply moved.
Two days.
That was how long Maya had been gone.
Two days since she vanished from the Triangle without a word, leaving behind rumors, absences, and questions no one could answer.
Dreyden had expected panic.
Instead, the silence bothered him more.
People talked—but not about her.
They talked about him.
"Did you hear? He's been climbing the ranks nonstop."
"They say he beat Rank 19 without even using a visible ability."
"No faction's claimed him yet. That's dangerous."
"Or arrogant."
Dreyden ignored them.
He had learned long ago that noise meant nothing.
What mattered were the things people didn't say.
