The Academy moved quickly.
Too quickly.
By noon, the inner halls were sealed. Instructors gathered behind layered wards, voices muted but tense. Rafe could feel the shift in the air—protocols activating, permissions being rewritten.
Elyra stood at the center of the Observation Ring, hands clasped behind her back.
"Unassigned candidate Rafe," she said, voice calm and carrying. "You will demonstrate controlled regulation."
Not release.Not compression.
Regulation.
Rafe stepped into the circle.
Dozens of eyes watched from behind the barrier—senior instructors, analysts, and one unfamiliar presence cloaked in neutral sigils.
Commission-adjacent.
The anchor tugged.
Rafe breathed.
Inhale.Hold.Exhale.
He opened the valve—just enough.
The air around him tightened subtly, then smoothed. The wards hummed, recalibrating.
A low murmur rippled through the observers.
"Stability increase detected."
"Presence variance within tolerances."
"Output near zero—how is he doing that?"
Elyra raised a hand.
"Increase ambient pressure," she ordered.
The ring answered. Pressure built—measured, layered, precise. Not enough to crush. Enough to test discipline.
Rafe didn't compress.
He regulated.
Tiny releases, timed with his breath, letting the pressure pass through him like water through reeds. His thoughts stayed sharp. The ache behind his eyes flickered—then settled.
"Remarkable," someone whispered.
Eiden stepped forward from the crowd beyond the barrier.
"Let me try," he called out. "If this is about pressure, I can match it."
Elyra's gaze cut to him.
"This is not a duel."
Eiden smiled. "Then make it one."
Before Elyra could respond, a ripple passed through the ring—an unauthorized spike, aggressive and sudden.
Eiden had forced his aura forward.
The pressure surged.
Gasps echoed.
Rafe felt it slam into him—raw, emotional, provocative.
He nearly compressed.
Instead, he released—clean, controlled.
The surge broke around him.
Eiden's aura stuttered.
For a heartbeat, the room went very still.
Then a voice spoke from beyond the wards.
"Enough."
Selene stepped through the barrier as if it were mist.
Her presence grounded the room instantly—cool, precise, unyielding.
Elyra exhaled. "You're late."
"I was detained," Selene replied. Her eyes never left Rafe. "I'm here now."
She turned to the observers.
"The Academy has my formal custody claim on the Unassigned candidate," Selene said evenly. "Filed and approved under protective statute."
Murmurs surged.
The unfamiliar presence leaned forward.
"Custody limits access," the figure said. "The Commission requested—"
Selene cut in. "Observation is not ownership."
Silence fell.
Elyra inclined her head. "The demonstration is complete."
Rafe stepped out of the ring.
Eiden stared at him, something brittle in his eyes now.
"You're hiding behind her," Eiden said quietly.
Rafe met his gaze.
"No," he said. "I'm learning when to breathe."
Selene placed a hand on Rafe's shoulder.
"Come," she said. "We're done for today."
As they walked away, Rafe felt it—threads tightening and loosening across the Academy, interests aligning and colliding.
Measured.Counted.Watched.
But for the first time since arriving—
He wasn't alone in the room.
And far beyond the wards, the Commission recorded a single line:
VARIABLE: STABLE UNDER REGULATION.RISK: INCREASING.