The next morning began the same way it always did.
Bells chimed faintly over the central tower, calling cadets to morning drill. Students groaned. Boots hit the tile. Breakfast was half-chewed, half-forgotten.
The same.
But not the same.
Lyle could feel it in the looks.
Not the usual glances from curious cadets—but from instructors.
From people who never used to notice him.
Now they hesitated a beat longer when calling roll. Asked indirect questions in class.
They didn't know what had changed.
But they knew something had.
And so did he.
The black ring lay hidden in the inside pocket of his tunic. It was cool against his chest, even though the day was already warming fast.
He hadn't worn it.
But he hadn't let go of it either.
He just felt it.
Every second.
Like it was watching the world with him.
---
Combat drills came next. Basic formations, with spell-casters rotating through support and suppression roles.
Lyle took his place in formation without hesitation.
He cast cleanly.
No flares. No flickers.
But the Core inside his chest responded anyway.
Not with light or sound—but with movement.
Every time he traced a glyph, it reshaped it slightly. A whisper of efficiency. A soft push that made his hand just a little faster, his form just a little smoother.
No one else noticed.
But he did.
> The Core is learning from me… and rewriting the way I cast.
He didn't stop it.
He let it happen.
Because if it was rewriting his power, he needed to know what it wanted.
---
Later that afternoon, while heading back from practice, he found something else waiting for him.
A new schedule, pinned to his barrack door.
He didn't need to open it to know it was different.
The paper was darker. Thicker. Laced with a silver thread that shimmered only in the right light.
Not standard issue.
He opened it anyway.
And as he scanned the assignments, one line near the bottom stood out.
> "Evening Practical – Tower V: Sub-Level 3 – Instructor Unlisted"
> Sub-Level 3… isn't on the official floorplans.
He folded the schedule and slid it into his satchel.
No hesitation.
But every step back to his bunk felt heavier than it should have.
---
That night, he didn't sleep immediately.
He sat in silence at the small desk by the window, watching the moon drift behind the high towers.
The ring sat on the desk in front of him.
Still cold.
Still silent.
Until—
The Codex flared open on its own.
Not by command.
Not by thought.
Just... opened.
And a single new line appeared, pulsing in faded gold:
> [Sub-System Detected: Arcai Ethos Integration Available]
[Do you wish to unlock 'Arcai Ethos – Tier I: Core Ideals'?]
Beneath it, a warning:
> "Warning: Ethos is permanent. Choose carefully. This will affect your casting, instincts, and long-term evolution."
Lyle stared at the glowing line.
The ring pulsed once on the desk.
Almost like it was waiting for his answer.