After the attack, Phei vanished.
Not with fireworks or a dramatic mic drop—just a quiet, methodical erasure of himself from every stage that mattered.
At Ashford Elite Academy, he became the ghost who never showed. In Sovereign Tower, he moved like a glitch in the matrix: doors closing behind him before cameras could focus, footsteps that left no echo. Even the system—his constant, omnipresent with a cosmic god-complex—got ghosted harder than a bad Tinder date.
He'd started ignoring it the day he realised he was tired of being congratulated for doing push-ups. The daily Dragon Rise pings had felt less like encouragement and more like a needy ex sex-texting "good morning" with nudes, every time he broke a sweat.
So, he'd asked—half-joking, half-desperate—if it could just shut up and drop the Dragon Routine rewards once a week instead.
It had said yes.
Since then: it was a blissful, beautiful silence.
He buried himself.
