Soren Vale leaned back in his chair like the room belonged to him. One boot propped up, fingers twirling a spoon through a cup of tea brewed too sweet, eyes flicking lazily between Taveer and Nola.
"So let me get this straight," he said, his grin all wide and amused. "You were almost devoured by a rift spawn, and your solution was a… tactical hand graze?"
Taveer bristled. "It wasn't a solution."
Nola folded her arms. "It wasn't like that."
Soren raised both brows. "Sure. Just a coincidence that the monster hesitated after a brush of fingers and a shared stare. I've read this novel."
She didn't answer.
Because it had meant something. Something she didn't quite know how to explain. And the fact that Soren noticed unsettled her more than she liked.
He looked at her too easily. With the kind of charm that wore like armor, deliberate and polished. He laughed like nothing mattered. But Nola had met enough people who used jokes as camouflage to know what to look for.
And Soren Vale? He was wearing a mask.
The question was why?
Taveer didn't respond, which only made Soren grin wider. "Don't look at me like that, Mr.Serious. I'm just saying, if mild romantic tension wards off the dark, someone should put it in the textbooks."
Nola looked at Taveer.
He was still rigid, but not angry. Just… wound. Like a pulled bowstring. Like if he relaxed, something would shatter.
Soren tilted his cup back and drained the last of his tea. "Anyway," he said, rising, "I've got a spar in ten. Try not to awaken any ancient evil without me."
He strolled off like nothing in the world weighed more than a feather.
Once he was gone, Nola let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
"He gets under your skin too, right?" she asked.
Taveer nodded without hesitation. "He's wrong. About a lot of things."
"But clever."
"And dangerous."
They sat with that for a moment. The hum of the campus vibrating faintly through the stone beneath their feet.
Then came the alert.
A sharp buzz. A flare of golden glyphlight midair, rotating like a compass needle in a storm.
INCIDENT REPORT: COMET TOWER, 2ND FLOOR.
STATUS: CONTAINED
REPORTED BY: DISCIPLINARY COMMISSION, AGENT NERIS
DETAILS: ANOMALY ARTIFACT RECOVERED. STUDENT SAFE.
NO HOSTILE ENTITIES PRESENT.
ALL CHANNELERS REMAIN ON STANDBY.
Taveer was already on his feet.
Nola followed. "Let's go."
"I don't think we're supposed to go. We are students." Maika started from across the room.
"Doesn't matter," Nola said. "Something's wrong. Again."
By the time they reached the 2nd floor, the Comet Tower felt… cold. Not by temperature. By presence.
Like whatever had stirred here had left something behind.
Nullification glyphs flickered in concentric rings. Mana suppression fields, strong ones buzzed faintly, pressing against her skin like static.
In the middle of the floor was a student. First-year, maybe. Kneeling, vacant, lips moving silently like he was trying to remember how to breathe.
And in the center of it all: the orb.
It floated inches above the stone floor, spinning so slowly it was almost imperceptible. Perfect. Seamless. Gold like old fire. Warm and wrong.
Nola felt it immediately. Not in her fingers. In her chest. A pull. A whisper.
Like the orb was reaching out.
Come closer.
Neris, a moon legion member, stood nearby, arms folded, her jaw tight. Her gaze flicked to them and narrowed.
"You two are not supposed to be here."
"We're not interfering," Taveer said. "Just… observing."
Nola knelt slowly near the perimeter of the glyphs. The pull was stronger here. Not painful. Not aggressive. But alive.
She swallowed hard. "It's like the one from the rift."
"No," Neris said quietly. "That one wanted out. This one wanted in."
That hit different.
She looked up. "How'd you stop it?"
"I didn't," Neris said. "I got lucky. Passed by and saw the kid with the orb. He was mid-channel. Almost broke the field."
Taveer frowned. "He was trying to open a gate?"
"Didn't seem like he knew what he was doing," Neris muttered. "But the structure was forming. Fast."
Silence dropped over them like a cloak.
Three times now.
Three orbs.
Three incidents.
Nola's stomach tightened.
Taveer's gaze stayed locked on the orb. He didn't move, didn't blink. Just stood there like he could memorize its pattern into submission.
And behind them, Soren leaned casually against the wall.
Nola turned. She hadn't heard him arrive.
He was staring at the orb too, but different. Not with concern. Not even curiosity.
Just interest.
Like he'd seen it before.
She studied his posture. Too relaxed. His eyes were too sharp behind the lazy smile.
"Creepy little thing," he smiled. "Like a small mini sun."
"Not funny," Nola said.
He looked at her and grinned. "Who said I was joking?"
Something coiled in her gut. A whisper of instinct.
Not fear.
Not yet.
Just a stomach twisting level warning.
"Watch him."
A woman's voice rang through her head.
She was surprised but chose to remain quiet.
He walked alone down the far corridor when no one was looking. Glyphs flickered overhead like fireflies.
He smiled again, but there was no one left to see it.
Contained.
He clenched his jaw, exhaling through his nose.
It should've happened here. This was a prime location, it was a thin barrier, high flux rate. The orb had been placed with care.
And yet, snatched up. Sealed. Intercepted.
By luck. By timing. By a passing disturbance who thought she was doing good.
She does not understand his divine purpose.
'What a bitch.'
Soren pressed his hand to the cold stone wall. Closed his eyes.
They didn't understand what they were stopping.
The orbs weren't weapons. Not traps. Not threats.
They were keys.
And keys only mattered if you used them.
He took a long breath. Calm. Slow. Recentered.
The time would come. More orbs. More cracks. The world could only hold so long before something spilled through.
And next time, he'd make sure no one closed the gate.
His smile returned gentle, easy, and fake.
Let them keep watching.
He was already ahead.