The Apex Tower wasn't marked on any official Regis map. Most cadets didn't even know it existed.
Rising from the far northern cliffs beyond the institutional dome, the tower pierced the synthetic clouds like a silent needle. It had no lights, no drones, no guards. It wasn't forbidden—just forgotten.
And that made it the perfect place for a meeting no one was meant to witness.
Kael stood before its silent gate at 23:58.
His breath misted in the high-altitude chill. The tower loomed above him—black stone, old world alloy, and hints of ancient architecture no modern building dared replicate.
The doors opened soundlessly.
No voice called him in.
But he stepped forward anyway.
The interior of the Apex Tower was cold and dark, but not abandoned. The walls were etched with faded sigils—military crests, family seals, ancient runes of power and blood. It wasn't just a structure. It was a graveyard of history.
Kael ascended the central spiral staircase, each step echoing like a war drum.
At the top, a single platform stretched beneath the open sky, lined with collapsed pillars and weathered statues.
And at the edge of that platform stood Silas Caellum.
His coat fluttered slightly in the wind—black with silver lining, engraved with the winged sun of House Caellum. He didn't turn when Kael approached.
"You came," Silas said.
Kael stopped a few meters away. "You summoned me."
A faint smile. "Most wouldn't have."
Kael didn't answer.
Silas finally turned.
His eyes gleamed like frost. "So. You're the ghost. The one the system can't classify."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "You invited me to talk about rumors?"
"No," Silas said. "I invited you to see if they were true."
He stepped closer, expression unreadable.
"You move like someone born for violence. But your core doesn't match. You don't pulse like any known category. And the institute's topographers can't map your evolution curve. It's like you're… writing your own."
Kael's jaw tightened. "What do you want?"
Silas circled him slowly, eyes scanning. Not hostile—but curious, like a predator watching a rival animal.
"I want to know what kind of storm is coming," he said. "Because if you're what I think you are, then everything's about to change."
Kael stood still. "And what do you think I am?"
Silas's voice dropped.
"A Codex-borne."
The words hit harder than any punch.
Kael didn't react outwardly.
But Aegis flared immediately in his mind.
"He knows. Somehow. This is no ordinary prodigy."
Kael met Silas's gaze. "That's a dead bloodline."
Silas smiled faintly. "So are dragons. But every now and then, something breathes fire."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Silas said, "When I first saw you fight, I thought you were just another overachiever. Fast. Talented. Hungry. But there's something in your stance. Something old."
He stopped directly in front of Kael.
"You've trained your instincts. You channel your structure. Your flow is… irregular. But dangerous."
Kael's voice was low. "You sound nervous."
Silas laughed once. "I'm not."
"Then what are you?"
"Interested."
Kael narrowed his eyes.
"Why bring me here?"
Silas turned his back again, facing the valley below. The artificial moonlight painted silver edges on his figure.
"Because you're walking into a war you don't understand," he said. "And I need to know whether you'll be an obstacle, a pawn, or a variable."
Kael stepped beside him. "What war?"
"The one this school was built to cover up." Silas's eyes hardened. "Do you really think Regis exists to train soldiers?"
Kael didn't answer.
"Regis exists to monitor. To catalog bloodlines. To suppress any that break the rules. The Seven Families didn't survive the War. We ended it. And then we rewrote the map."
Kael clenched his fists. "And erased everyone else."
Silas looked at him then—eyes sharp. "Because they were unstable. Too dangerous. They forgot why power exists. They burned everything they touched."
"And what about you?" Kael said. "You're any different?"
Silas didn't blink. "Yes. Because we remember the cost."
The wind howled around them.
Then Silas reached into his coat and pulled out a silver ring etched with glowing runes.
He tossed it to Kael.
Kael caught it, confused.
"What is this?"
"A seal," Silas said. "An invitation. There's a summit being held in two weeks—off-campus. Only legacy cadets and top-tier ranks will be there. Unofficially, of course."
Kael turned the ring in his hand. "Why give this to me?"
"Because I want to see what you'll become," Silas said. "Whether you collapse… or rise."
He stepped away.
"But if you accept the invitation," he added, "you'll be exposing yourself. There'll be no hiding after that. The other families will know. The instructors will have to act. You'll make enemies that won't forget your name."
Kael looked down at the ring.
He thought of his squad.
Of Lira's trust.
Of Aegis whispering ancient truths in the dark.
And he thought of the mirror in his mind—the one that showed who he could become.
"I'm not here to hide," Kael said.
Silas stopped at the edge of the tower.
He didn't turn around.
But Kael saw his faint smile reflected in the silver wind.
"Then maybe," Silas said, "we'll both get what we want."
Kael descended the tower long after midnight.
The ring pulsed faintly in his palm, as if recognizing its new bearer.
He knew what this meant.
There would be no returning to shadows. No pretending he was just another first-year. The moment he stepped into that summit, his name would be carved into the walls of a history most never got to read.
"You've crossed the line now," Aegis said quietly. "The Codex is no longer a secret. And those who know its weight will either try to destroy you… or use you."
Kael nodded.
"Let them try."
"Then we begin the next phase."
"The Rings of Flow."