Rafe woke before dawn.
Not because he was rested—but because something inside him refused to stay quiet.
His chest felt… hollow.
Not empty.Compressed.
Like his existence had been folded inward and tied with a knot he didn't know how to loosen.
He sat up slowly, testing his breathing.
Light responded faintly.Shadow barely stirred.
The Unassigned state lingered just beneath the surface, quiet and restrained—waiting.
Rafe stood.
The room's wards hummed softly, sensing movement but not reacting.
Good.
He closed his eyes and focused.
Not on power.
On absence.
The pressure returned instantly.
Not external.Internal.
His thoughts slowed.His heartbeat steadied.The world felt slightly farther away, like he was watching it through thin glass.
Rafe opened his eyes.
The room looked the same.
But he felt… smaller.
Contained.
He took one step forward.
The wards didn't react.
Rafe frowned.
He took another.
Still nothing.
So this was it.
Not invisibility.Not concealment.
Compression.
He was still there—but taking up less space in reality.
A sharp ache pulsed behind his eyes.
Rafe hissed and dropped the state immediately.
The pressure vanished.
He leaned against the desk, breathing hard.
So that was the cost.
Mental strain.
Focus too long, and it would break him instead.
A soft chime echoed in the room.
The door unlocked.
"Up already?"
Professor Elyra's voice came from the doorway.
Rafe turned.
She leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed, watching him with open interest.
"You were observing," he said.
"Of course," she replied. "You didn't think I'd give you a private training window without supervision."
Rafe didn't argue.
"How long can you maintain it?" Elyra asked.
"Less than a minute," Rafe answered honestly. "Before it hurts."
Elyra nodded.
"Expected."
She stepped inside.
"That state suppresses your presence at a conceptual level," she said. "But your mind isn't built for it yet."
Rafe met her gaze.
"Can it be trained?"
Elyra smiled slightly.
"Everything can be trained. The question is whether it's worth the cost."
Before Rafe could answer, a sudden ripple of mana echoed outside.
Loud.
Unsubtle.
Aggressive.
Elyra's eyes flicked toward the window.
"…Speak of the devil."
Rafe felt it too.
A presence pushing outward instead of inward.
Power being displayed.
Deliberately.
Moments later, voices carried across the training field.
Laughter.Excited murmurs.
And one voice—clear, confident, sharp.
"Again," Eiden said. "I didn't even feel that."
Rafe stepped to the window.
Below, Eiden Valcrest stood in the center of a Combat training circle, surrounded by other students. His aura flared brilliantly as he knocked another opponent to the ground with a clean, effortless strike.
Applause followed.
Eiden smiled.
Then his eyes lifted.
Straight to Rafe's window.
Their gazes locked.
Eiden's smile sharpened.
He raised two fingers—then pointed them down.
A silent challenge.
Mara would've already jumped the railing.
Rafe didn't move.
Elyra watched him closely.
"Well?" she asked. "Does that bother you?"
Rafe looked away from the window.
"No."
Elyra hummed.
"Liar."
Rafe exhaled slowly.
"I don't want to be seen," he said. "And he wants everyone watching."
Elyra nodded approvingly.
"Good instinct."
She turned to leave.
"Rest your mind," she said. "You'll need it."
"For what?" Rafe asked.
Elyra paused at the door.
"For when hiding stops being an option."
She left.
Rafe remained by the window, staring down at the training field.
Eiden finished another bout and laughed easily, basking in attention.
Rafe clenched his fist.
The Unassigned state whispered faintly, tempting him.
Disappear.
He pushed it down.
Not yet.
But as he stepped back from the window, a dull throb settled behind his eyes again—stronger this time.
A warning.
Compression came at a price.
And the more he relied on it—
The less room there would be for him.