The morning sun slid across the polished walls of Aureus Helix Academy like liquid gold, glinting off the massive glass dome that crowned the main building. Beneath that dome, students of every background streamed toward their classes, their uniforms a mosaic of black, silver, and deep blue. Each one carried themselves with the unshakable confidence of someone born with a gene trait.
Vadel moved among them like a shadow.
His steps were quiet, measured, the way you walk when you don't want anyone to notice you but you also don't want to look like you're hiding. His eyes scanned everything without moving his head — doors, corners, the way people carried their weapons, the faint shimmer in the air that meant someone was passively channeling their gene units.
"Subtle, Vadel. Real subtle," EON's voice purred in his mind, thick with sarcasm. "You're blending in perfectly… like a wolf in a sheep farm. With a katana strapped under its wool."
He didn't answer.
They'd been through this conversation all morning — EON wanted to test the interface in a combat setting. Vadel wanted to gather data first. That meant staying quiet, staying invisible. The fight with Celia yesterday had been too public already.
"First class, Combat Theory. Room Sigma-4," EON continued, her tone laced with mock boredom. "Your classmates include… oh look, three people who laughed at you last week. Want me to flag them?"
"No."
"But it would be fun."
"No."
The halls opened into Sigma-4, a vast, circular room designed like an indoor arena. The center was a wide training floor made of energy-absorbent composite panels. Around the edges, tiered seating and holo-displays projected past battle recordings for analysis.
Professor Darion Vesk stood at the front — tall, broad-shouldered, his coat a deep crimson with black trim. His eyes swept the room with the casual lethality of a predator that knew no one here could take him.
"Take your seats," Darion's voice boomed, carrying a weight that made even the cockiest students shut up instantly.
Vadel slid into a seat halfway up the tiers, not too close, not too far. From here, he could see the whole floor without being in anyone's spotlight.
"Today," Darion began, "we'll review three combat styles in relation to gene trait synergy — Burst Assault, Adaptive Counter, and Overwhelm Suppression."
At his gesture, the floor lit up, projecting holograms of fighters in motion. One by one, students were called down to demonstrate the basics. Vadel watched every movement — the shift in footwork when a Burst Assault fighter tried to pivot, the subtle pause before an Adaptive Counter activated their defensive trait.
In his mind, EON was working overtime.
"Recording pattern. Classifying… oh, that one's sloppy. Left knee rotates too much. Burst energy output—"
"Save it," Vadel muttered under his breath.
"Already saved. Want me to overlay weaknesses in real time next time?"
He didn't answer — because his attention had shifted to Celia. She was sitting three rows down, back straight, gaze locked on the fighters with an intensity that felt almost predatory. Her long silver hair caught the light like spun moonlight, but her expression was the thing that held him. She wasn't just watching for entertainment. She was dissecting every move.
And she caught him watching.
Her eyes flicked back over her shoulder, locking with his for just a second.
A second was enough.
She smirked.
Tch.
Darion's voice snapped the moment apart. "Celia Varenth. You're up."
The arena floor brightened under her steps as she descended. She didn't draw a weapon. Didn't need to.
Her opponent, a tall boy with an armored forearm plate, activated his gene trait instantly — pale flames erupted along his arms. Burst Assault type. Aggressive, fast, overwhelming.
The sound of their clash ripped through the room.
BANG!
Celia didn't flinch. Her body flowed like water around his first strike, her hand slicing the air. A ripple of silver flame erupted in a wave, not to burn but to disrupt the opponent's energy channeling. He stumbled. She didn't press — just circled, watching him try to recover.
"See that?" EON whispered. "She's baiting him. Letting him overcommit. She's probably got three ways to end this fight right now."
"She won't use them."
"Because?"
"She's hiding her real level. Just like me."
The match ended when she flicked her wrist and the silver flame condensed into a blade-like arc, stopping just at the boy's throat. Darion called it a win without blinking.
She walked back up the steps, her eyes flicking to Vadel for a fraction of a second. Not a word, but the message was clear: I saw you watching. Again.
The rest of the class blurred by in a haze of movement and data streams from EON. Names, traits, energy signatures, weaknesses — all filed away.
When the bell rang, Vadel slipped out before anyone could try to talk to him. EON's voice followed him down the hall.
"You know," she said, "if you keep watching people like this, you're going to end up fighting them whether you want to or not."
"That's fine."
"Oh? Planning to make some friends?"
"No."
A soft laugh hummed in his mind. "Of course not."
The rest of the day followed the same rhythm — Weapon Systems Lab in the afternoon, Gene Unit Dynamics after that. In each, Vadel kept his head down, eyes open. Every student here had some kind of pride, some kind of arrogance. Pride was easy to break. Arrogance was even easier.
And somewhere, in one of these classes, he felt the faintest ripple of a presence. Not a physical threat. Not even an obvious surveillance.
Just… eyes. Watching.
He didn't need EON to tell him who might be behind it.
Hung Zanyx.