The weeks passed—not gently, not loudly. They simply bled forward, like the slow drip of something poisonous.
Kaien Virell was still at Solvyr Academy. Still training. Still failing. Still standing.
He woke earlier than the others. Trained when the yards were silent and the lights hadn't flickered on. He reviewed spell diagrams he couldn't properly cast, and recited combat philosophies from manuals no one else read. He watched Ayari Thornveil and the other elite cadets from afar—not to envy, but to learn. The voice of Protocol Zero had not returned, but a different fire had begun to settle in his bones.
Not fury.
Focus.
One morning, Kaien was summoned.
Not by a teacher.
By Vel.
He hadn't seen the eccentric professor since the Labyrinth collapse. Rumors had swirled—that Vel had been reprimanded by the board for "meddling." That he'd left. That he'd been silenced.
But the man appeared now in a courtyard filled with withered leaves and copper birds that clicked mechanically along the walls. As if he'd never left at all.
"You're not broken," Vel said, as casually as if they were talking about soup.
Kaien stared at him, chest hollowing.
"You're different," Vel clarified, adjusting his glowing monocle. "That's not the same thing. People mistake the two. Often. Especially here."
"Why now?" Kaien asked. "Why call me?"
Vel smiled without joy. "Because the board is closing ranks. Because something big is coming. Because you have something inside you that makes liars out of records and ruins out of timelines. And because—" he tapped the center of Kaien's chest, "—the Whisper will return. Soon."
Kaien blinked. "You mean Protocol Zero."
"No," Vel said, more softly. "I mean you. The part of you that hasn't woken up yet. That's what whispers."
Back at the training yard, Kaien returned with his thoughts heavy—and didn't expect what waited for him.
A letter.
Slipped beneath his door.
No name. Just a seal:
🜁 — the symbol of Skyfall House.
Ayari's crest.
In the greenhouse near the outer edge of the campus, Ayari stood alone.
She didn't look surprised when he approached. Just... thoughtful.
"You're being watched," she said plainly.
"I know."
"You're being used."
Kaien nodded.
Then she turned.
"I'm not going to stop training with you," she said. "I'm not going to protect you again either. Not unless you earn it."
"Understood."
"But I want you to survive. I want you to live long enough to find out who the hell you really are, Virell. Because right now, you're a ghost pretending to be a soldier."
Kaien didn't flinch.
"Then I'll become something else."
Elsewhere, in a sealed chamber far beneath the Academy dorms, Toval Rehn met someone in shadow.
Not Nox.
Someone higher.
An older man with no eyes and dozens of teeth—his body wrapped in echo-silk, the sigil of the Rewritten Council burned into his palms.
"He's progressing?" the man rasped.
"Yes," Toval said. "And he still doesn't know who he was before."
The man smiled. "Perfect."
In Kaien's quarters, under his mattress, a symbol begins to burn faintly against the sheets.
A shape forming itself into language:
"Zeroth. The Threadless Flame."