April 11, 2079 | 04:58 A.M. | Tier-1 City, Sector-5 Outer Ring
Emric stood at the edge of an abandoned rail station, three levels below the active transport lines, where the light panels flickered just enough to keep the drones guessing. The air carried that faint static tang of early morning—still cold, before the spires began venting heat from their upper levels.
He hadn't meant to walk here.
Hadn't meant to leave at all.
But after a night like that—after whatever that moment was with the synth-quartz chip—sleep hadn't just been hard, it had felt... wrong. Like dreaming might dislodge something fragile. Something trying to settle.
So he walked. Let his legs choose. Let his mind replay the flicker on his sync band.
[Unclassified Neural Activity Detected | Anomaly Flagged]
Still no follow-up.
No notification. No system response.
And no record of it in his band history.
Which meant one of three things: the chip glitched his sync somehow, an awakening moment that registered as a glitch on the wristband, or—less comfortably—it wasn't a glitch at all.
He pulled the chip from his jacket pocket.
It didn't hum or glow. It didn't react to proximity or biometrics. Just a shard of memory tech from a world that barely remembered itself—Karya's gift.
He hadn't played it yet.
Wasn't sure if he wanted to.
A notification pinged quietly on his band:
[INDUCTION TRANSPORT: DOCKING AT RING GATE-12 | T-MINUS 48 MINUTES]
No more waiting.
He pocketed the chip, turned, and left the lower rails behind.
Sector-5 Ring Gate-12 | Induction Transport Docks
The loading docks buzzed with quiet urgency. Students from every corner of the sector filtered in, sleek duffel bags in tow, sync bands glowing with updated itineraries. Most were dressed in fresh induction wear—matte polymer jackets with academy emblems stitched across the chest.
Emric blended in only by presence. His outfit was clean, simple, and almost too plain—like someone trying not to leave an impression. His sync band bore no rank tags. No pre-assigned division. Just his name and a blinking "Unawakened" marker next to it.
He found a quiet corner and leaned against the outer support rail, eyes scanning the flow of bodies. He wasn't looking for Karya, but he found her anyway.
She stepped off a lift shuttle a level above, flanked by two Reclamation escorts. Her sync band shimmered with violet threads, clearly upgraded overnight. The Elite status marked her—class Arcanist, Tier I, confirmed candidate. Not that she flaunted it. She moved fast, head down, duffel slung over one shoulder.
But she spotted him. Of course she did.
She peeled off from her path and approached. No smile this time, just a look that asked too many questions.
"You didn't go home," she said, stopping a few feet away.
"I couldn't sleep."
"Because of…?"
He didn't answer. Just stared out toward the city wall, where the induction pods glided into position on a magnetic track.
She didn't push. Just waited.
He turned back to her, voice low. "Did you ever feel like something was chasing you? Not literally. Just… a thought you haven't had yet. Like it's trying to catch up."
Karya blinked. "No. But you just gave me a new fear to add to the list."
He huffed a small laugh. "Sorry."
She stepped closer. "You didn't tell me everything that happened last night."
"No."
"And you're not going to?"
"Not yet."
That earned a faint frown, but she didn't leave.
A moment later, a station-wide voice chimed:
"Inductees of Sector-5: Prepare for boarding. Gate-12 transport will initiate departure sequence in ten minutes. Please align sync bands for biometric scan."
They both turned as the first group began moving toward the gates.
Karya's expression changed—half resolve, half regret. "You'll be okay?"
He gave her a sideways glance. "You're the one with battlefield certifications. I'm just the theory kid."
She nudged him lightly. "You've always been more than theory. That's what worries me."
And then she was gone—disappearing into her designated line, eyes ahead, posture composed.
Emric stayed a moment longer.
He looked down at his sync band. The unawakened label still blinked quietly.
But he was sure, whatever had stirred in him last night... it wasn't gone.
Just waiting for the right moment.
Tier-1 City, Sector-5 Residential Complex 13
"He didn't come back?"
Ira Vale's voice cut through the morning quiet like the hiss of a steam kettle just before boil. She stood barefoot in the kitchen, her sleep-ruffled curls twisted into a hasty knot, hands on her hips, glaring at the countertop like it had personally offended her.
"No message. Not even a location ping," she continued, tapping her sync band for the third time. Still no update. "Who doesn't check in after graduation night?"
Across the kitchen island, her husband was more composed—if only because he'd had a ten-minute head start with the black coffee. Silas Vale sipped his cup, exhaling through his nose.
"Maybe he stayed at a friend's. Or a girl's," he added under his breath, amused.
Ira shot him a look. "Silas."
"I'm just saying. We've both seen how Karya looks at him. It's possible he finally stopped brooding long enough to do something normal."
At that moment, Kara wandered in, sleep-heavy and blanket-wrapped like a walking burrito. "Did Emric finally implode or ascend to synth-godhood?"
Ira sighed. "Neither, apparently. He just vanished after the party."
Kara flopped into the breakfast seat, pulling her blanket tighter. "He's probably fine. He does this thing where he forgets the world exists when he's thinking too hard."
Silas pointed toward his daughter with his coffee. "Exactly. Probably walking in circles somewhere, having a romantic argument with a rock."
Kara smirked. "Or decoding ancient tiles. Again."
"I'm glad you all think this is hilarious," Ira muttered, rubbing her temples.
"He's seventeen, Ira," Silas said gently. "Let him breathe."
"He's also scheduled for induction this morning, and he left without packing, without syncing his itinerary, and without saying goodbye. That's not just absent-minded—that's off."
Kara's expression softened slightly. "He was weird yesterday. After the ceremony. And after talking to Karya."
Silas raised an eyebrow. "Weird how?"
"Like… distracted. You know when he gets really quiet and his eyes go all 'post-apocalyptic ruins' focused?"
"That's every other Tuesday," Ira said flatly.
Kara ignored her. "This was different. Like he was holding something in."
The silence thickened.
Ira glanced toward the living room window, half-expecting him to walk through the door.
"He's not a kid anymore," Silas said eventually. "He made it to the academy. He's built for it. You know that."
"That doesn't mean he's not still ours."
Kara got up, dropping her blanket with dramatic flair. "Fine. I'll go pack a bag for him. Again. Because clearly I'm the only responsible one in this family."
"Your sync band still lists your status as 'Late for Everything,'" Ira said without looking.
"Irrelevant slander," Kara called back from the hallway.
Silas chuckled and sipped his coffee. "She gets that from you."
Ira turned toward him. "You're oddly calm about all this."
He leaned against the counter. "Because I remember what it felt like to leave home for the first time. To feel the future coming like a wave. Sometimes you need a few hours alone with the noise."
She folded her arms, trying not to smile. "You were a glorified tech librarian, not a Reclamation cadet."
"I was still dramatic."
"That part, yes."
A moment later, Kara reappeared with Emric's induction duffel, lightly overstuffed. She dropped it on the table with a thud. "Packed. Band synced. If he ghosts us forever, at least he'll have clean socks."
Ira blinked. "You included socks?"
"Three kinds. And backup charges. You're welcome."
Silas raised a brow. "What would Emric do without you?"
"Trip over his own existential crisis and forget pants."
And just as the laughter settled in, a chime sounded from the hallway console.
An automated update. Brief, impersonal.
[Inductee Vale Emric | Registered at Ring Gate-12 | Status: En-route to Academy]
Kara let out a low whistle. "He didn't ghost. He just skipped the farewell tour."
Ira stared at the message for a second longer than necessary. "Still should've called."
Silas stepped closer, brushing a hand along her shoulder. "He'll call. When he's ready."
"Yeah," Kara added, already turning toward the breakfast unit. "And when he realizes he forgot his toothbrush."