The protection came with paperwork.
And rules.
Lots of rules.
Rafe stood beside Selene in a narrow council chamber lined with floating sigils. Elyra faced them from across a stone table, while three other instructors observed in silence.
"Protective custody is now active," Elyra said. "That limits external access—including the Commission."
Rafe exhaled quietly.
"Limits," Selene corrected. "Doesn't eliminate."
Elyra inclined her head. "Correct."
A sigil flared, projecting text into the air.
"Rafe will attend classes only under supervision," Elyra continued. "No public demonstrations. No duels. No unscheduled evaluations."
Mara would hate that.
"And in exchange?" Selene asked.
Elyra's eyes flicked to Rafe.
"In exchange," she said, "we reserve the right to observe his regulation state during controlled scenarios."
Rafe nodded.
Fair.
Not safe.But fair.
The sigils dimmed.
"You're dismissed," Elyra said.
Outside, the Academy felt different.
Quieter.
Not calmer—tenser.
Students watched from a distance, pretending to mind their business. Conversations cut short as Rafe passed.
Selene walked beside him, posture relaxed but alert.
"You handled that well," she said.
"I didn't do much," Rafe replied.
Selene smiled faintly.
"That's the point."
As they turned a corner, Rafe's steps faltered.
A sharp pulse flared behind his eyes—stronger than before. The world seemed to tilt slightly, edges softening.
Selene noticed instantly.
"Stop," she said.
Rafe leaned against the wall, breathing slowly.
Inhale.Hold.Exhale.
The release helped—but not completely.
"What is it?" Selene asked.
"…Afterimages," Rafe murmured. "When I regulate, it's like part of me stays… spread out."
Selene frowned.
"That's not normal."
"No," Rafe agreed. "But it's manageable."
For now.
Across the grounds, Eiden Valcrest knelt in the Combat Hall, fists clenched against the stone floor.
His aura flickered erratically.
Instructor Dhal loomed over him.
"You forced a surge against protocol," Dhal said coldly. "Your control fractured."
Eiden gritted his teeth.
"He nullified it."
"He regulated it," Dhal snapped. "And in doing so, exposed your lack of discipline."
Dhal turned away.
"You're suspended from Combat trials for three days."
Eiden's eyes widened.
"What—?!"
"Learn restraint," Dhal said. "Or you'll break yourself before you ever reach him."
Eiden stared at the floor, jaw tight.
Not anger.
Humiliation.
That night, Rafe sat alone by his window.
The Academy lights shimmered softly in the distance.
He practiced regulation in short bursts—never more than a breath or two.
Still, the afterimages lingered.
Echoes of himself where he had been moments ago.
He pressed two fingers to his temple.
So this is the cost, he thought.
Not pain.
Diffusion.
If compression made him smaller…
Release made him thinner.
A knock sounded at the door.
Rafe turned.
"Come in."
Elyra entered quietly, expression thoughtful.
"You felt it," she said.
"The afterimages?"
She nodded.
"Regulation distributes your presence across micro-intervals of time," she explained. "You're not fully anchored to the present moment when you do it."
Rafe swallowed.
"That sounds dangerous."
"It is," Elyra said honestly. "But it's also why the Commission is interested."
She met his gaze.
"You're becoming something the system wasn't designed to handle."
Rafe looked back out the window.
"…Do I stop?"
Elyra shook her head.
"No," she said. "You learn when to stop."
She turned to leave.
"One more thing," she added. "This isn't just your arc anymore."
Rafe frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Elyra paused at the door.
"The Academy is changing its protocols," she said. "Because of you."
The door closed.
Rafe sat in silence, the weight of that settling in.
Not pride.
Not fear.
Responsibility.
Somewhere deep inside the Academy, new classifications were being drafted. Old assumptions quietly erased.
And far beyond its walls, the Commission adjusted its models—
Preparing for a future where variables no longer stayed contained.