The test zone faded behind them without fanfare.
No applause. No announcement.
Just the low hum of a recall array activating beneath their feet as they stepped into a faintly glowing circle carved into the canyon's stone.
Juno stood with her arms crossed, her face unreadable as always. Lyle stood beside her, trying not to look too steady—or too shaken.
He didn't know which was more dangerous now.
Then came the flash.
Light burst beneath their feet. The world tilted.
And in a blink, the desert vanished.
---
The return platform inside the academy gates was quiet—too quiet.
No students. No instructors. Just the pair of them standing beneath a rune-lit dome of polished stone, the air still humming from the transport spell.
Juno frowned first.
"Where's the reception team?" she muttered.
Lyle opened his mouth to answer, but a sharp buzz filled the room.
Then a voice echoed from above. Neutral. Mechanical.
> "Remain in position. Instructor oversight en route."
Juno's eyes narrowed.
That wasn't standard.
Lyle already knew why.
He could feel it.
The Codex was still warm.
The Arcai Echo Core had nested itself inside him, and now its residual energy was leaking out—not enough for a normal mage to sense, but enough for someone who monitored mana fields to pick up.
He curled his fingers behind his back, whispering softly beneath his breath.
> Dampen. Mask. Seal.
A quiet shiver ran through his veins.
The Codex obeyed.
The warmth dulled.
Just in time.
The door to the chamber opened with a heavy grind, and a woman stepped in—black robes, silver trim, a narrow set of spectacles perched perfectly on her nose.
Instructor Saval.
Surveillance Division.
"Cadets," she said calmly. "Congratulations on surviving Phase One. Come with me."
Juno gave her a look. "No debrief on the field?"
"Your performance triggered an anomaly scan," Saval replied smoothly. "Standard procedure."
Lyle's heart beat faster.
Not panicked—but faster.
> Anomaly scan. So they know something flared. They just don't know what.
"Follow me," she said again, turning without waiting.
Juno hesitated only a second, then followed.
Lyle walked behind them both, focusing every ounce of willpower on keeping the Core's signature buried beneath the surface.
The Codex helped.
But only barely.
---
The room they entered was small. Too clean. Silver-thread runes lined the walls, pulsing faintly every few seconds. Lyle didn't need to guess—this was a mana field scanner.
And he was about to walk through it.
"Step into the center," Saval instructed. "One at a time."
Juno stepped forward first, hands at her sides, completely calm.
The room pulsed. Lights flickered blue. No alarms. No disruption.
"Clear."
Then came his turn.
He stepped forward slowly. Let his body tremble just enough to seem nervous. Let his mana pulse small. Controlled.
The scanner flared.
But then—
The Codex surged.
Not outward—but inward, swallowing its own energy and pulling the leak deep into Lyle's core.
The room steadied.
Saval's eyes narrowed.
Then the light blinked blue.
"Clear."
Lyle exhaled.
Barely.
---
Back in the barracks, Juno didn't say much. She walked past him, unwrapping her gauntlets with silent focus.
But she paused at the door.
"You're not what you pretend to be," she said quietly. "I don't know what you are yet. But I'm watching."
Then she left.
Lyle stood alone for a long moment.
The Codex flickered in the air in front of him.
> [Surveillance Status: Temporarily Masked]
[Warning: Residual Flare Will Return in 3–5 Days]
> So I'm on borrowed time.
He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his hand.
And under the skin, he could still feel the Arcai sigil, gently pulsing in time with his heartbeat.