Levi stood at attention in the high observation chamber, the curved gss window behind him casting a panoramic view over the Caelux skyline. Fluxline threads shimmered across the horizon, threading their light between towers like veins through the city.

  Across from him, High Commander Revan leaned back slightly in his chair, arms folded behind his back, studying Levi with a thoughtful gaze. The room was quiet save for the distant hum of security drones and the soft shifting of data holograms rotating slowly above the central table.

  "So," Revan began, voice low and even, "she’ll be formally onboarded into the Vanguard Division next week."

  Levi nodded once, already anticipating where this was headed.

  "Owen’s unit was the first to express interest. He’s offered to mentor her personally. Said it would be an opportunity to develop her properly... control her potential."

  Revan’s tone remained neutral, but Levi could hear the undercurrent. The push.

  "I'll be her mentor," Levi said quietly. "I’ll take her through training myself."

  That caught Revan’s full attention.

  Revan studied him for a moment longer, then smiled faintly—not with amusement, but with something resembling respect.

  "You know, Levi," he said, circling the table slowly, "if you’d been born into one of the high houses, you’d already be on the Council’s fast track. Captain, Commander, maybe more. But instead... you’ve had to cw your way up. No family name. No sponsors. No legacy."

  He stopped, pcing a hand on the table beside a glowing report marked with Eve’s name. "And yet, here you are. One of the youngest operatives to hold rank in the Division. One of the best we’ve ever trained."

  Levi didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. He’d heard all this before.

  Revan continued, "I’ve watched you, Bck. Closely. You’ve earned every step. But the truth is... that’s not always enough in this world."

  He gestured to the report. "This girl... Eve. If she’s half as powerful as the containment team says, mentoring her will put you in a very unique position. If you can train her. Control her. Guide her... the families will see that. And they’ll start seeing you differently."

  He gave a pointed pause. "I’m not saying you need their approval. But if you ever want a seat at the table they’ve cimed for themselves, this... could be your chance."

  Levi looked down at the report, the pulsing energy readouts, the analysis tags marked "UNSTABLE" and "UNCLASSIFIED."

  He already knew she wasn’t like the others.

  And he also knew: no one else should be responsible for unlocking what lived inside her.

  He looked back up at Revan. "I’ll train her."

  Revan nodded once, slowly. "Then she’s yours. Don’t let me regret it."

  Levi turned and left the chamber without another word, the door hissing shut behind him.

  Behind the gss, Revan remained still, his expression unreadable.

  But beneath it all, there was a flicker of something sharp in his eyes.

  Anticipation.

  Or warning.

  Maybe both.

  Levi’s decision to train her hadn’t come lightly. He’d spent most of the night before staring at her file, going over every energy readout, every mission log, every inconsistency. And none of it made sense.

  She was too powerful to be untrained—but too votile to be left in anyone else’s hands.

  He knew how the higher-ups worked. Revan might respect him, but the rest? They were watching her like she was a loaded weapon. And Levi couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. A test. A setup. Maybe worse.

  So he would train her. Not to prove anything. Not to py their game.

  But to help her survive if it came to it.

  She needed to be sharper, faster, more aware.

  And she needed to stop hesitating.

  He'd been hard on her during their early sessions—cold, clipped, relentless in correcting every stance and movement. Not because he didn't care. Because he did. Mistakes got people killed. Especially people like her, who didn't yet understand what they carried inside.

  And because deep down, he was afraid. Not of her—of what they might do to her if she lost control again.

  He wasn’t just training her to use her power.

  He was training her to protect herself from a world that would fear her the second it saw her for what she really was.

  -----------------------------------------------------------------------

  The arena was already silent when Levi arrived, his boots striking soft echoes against the polished floor. He’d been told Eve would be training with Nyra this morning. Energy output reintroduction. A risky step.

  He should’ve ignored it. Let the Academy monitor her like they were supposed to. But something pulled him there anyway.

  As he stepped through the main archway, he spotted Nyra already making her way out, case in hand, her expression unreadable. Eve stood alone at the centre of the training floor, already outfitted in the Arc Division gloves. She looked small from where he stood. Tense. Determined.

  He hadn’t seen the session, but the silence told him everything.

  He didn’t interrupt. Just kept walking, slow and measured.

  She hadn’t moved since Nyra left her. Not even to take off the gloves. The way she stood—shoulders squared but rigid, jaw tight—he could tell she was barely holding it together.

  Whatever they had tried, it hadn’t worked.

  And now, she stood alone in the silence of failure.

  Nyra crossed paths with him on her way out.

  "She’s not there yet," Nyra murmured as she passed, voice clipped but not unkind. "Keep it light. She’s rattled."

  He gave a curt nod.

  Their eyes met briefly. Levi didn’t need details. He’d already seen enough.

  When he finally approached Eve, she didn’t turn. She didn’t need to.

  He could feel the weight in the air between them.

  She was frustrated. Maybe even embarrassed. He knew that feeling all too well.

  He didn’t speak at first. Just stood a few paces away, giving her space.

  Then, finally: "It doesn’t always happen on command. Especially not when you're chasing it."

  He saw the way her fists clenched slightly, the tension in her frame coiled like a wire about to snap.

  They spoke quietly, but he meant every word. He remembered what it felt like to fail in front of others, to have your power betray you. To be seen as less.

  When she turned to him with that wounded question in her voice—"Then why can’t I feel it now?" —he felt something deeper stir in him. A mix of frustration on her behalf... and something else. Something quieter.

  She looked at him like she wanted answers.

  So, he gave her the only truth he could.

  "Because your body remembers what happened. The shock of it. The pain. Even your energy’s trying to protect you. It’s not broken. It’s cautious."

  He saw something shift in her then.

  A softness. A hint of belief.

  They trained after that, simple drills. Control. Movement. No pressure.

  And she did better than she thought.

  Levi didn’t push. He didn’t correct her with sharpness or bark orders like he usually would. Today, he just... supported.

  But the whole time, something gnawed at him.

  Was he being too soft?

  Was it helping?

  Or was he just trying to make up for the fact that he couldn’t protect her during the st mission?

  He didn’t know.

  Then Rowan showed up.

  Levi saw it all from the far side of the arena—the way Rowan jogged up, all effortless charm and that smug, boyish grin. The way Eve looked surprised, then smiled. The way she said yes.

  It wasn’t jealousy. Levi told himself that.

  It was something else. Something colder.

  He didn’t like Rowan. Never had. The way he watched people, the way he always knew the right thing to say. It was too perfect.

  And when Eve turned to him after, thanking him, asking if he’d be there tomorrow—he felt something twist.

  So, he put the wall back up.

  "I’ll be out of the city for a few days."

  The look on her face stung.

  But he walked away anyway.

  Because caring made things complicated.

  And he couldn’t afford complicated right now.

  -----------------------------------------------------------------------

  That night, Levi met Dax just outside the Academy gates, the wind cooler than usual as it swept over the high ledge overlooking the lower district. The transport waiting for them was unmarked, its surface matte-bck, humming quietly as energy thrummed beneath its chassis.

  Dax leaned against the side, arms crossed, a familiar grin on his face. "Let me guess. You ditched early to avoid watching her leave with him?"

  Levi shot him a look but said nothing. Dax raised his hands. "Fair enough."

  They boarded in silence, the cabin lights inside dimmed to preserve stealth.

  Their mission was clear: investigate reports of a shadow creature unlike any previously encountered. The one that had nearly killed Eve.

  It had been different—Levi knew that immediately. Its presence. Its intelligence. The way it vanished and reformed. Standard shadowspawn didn’t behave like that. But this one... it had.

  Reports from intelligence units suggested something worse: that rogue operatives and underground factions had begun tampering with the Void.

  Not just summoning creatures—but experimenting on them.

  Modifying them.

  Draining energy from breaches. Crafting bio-weapons. Something only the most desperate or deranged would even attempt.

  The Division operated under the illusion of order, but Levi had seen enough to know that chaos didn’t always come from beyond the portals.

  Sometimes, it came from within.

  Criminal cells. Cults. Fringe scientists. Power-hungry madmen. The Academy liked to pretend they were rare.

  But Levi had seen the aftermath of what happened when one slipped through the cracks.

  And this time, they weren’t just tracking a rumour.

  They were going to a location outside the city—a fractured zone near the edge of Verdaran territory, where energy instability had been quietly escating for weeks.

  According to the st report, the site had been tagged as abandoned.

  But something was draining energy out there.

  And if they were right—if someone had figured out how to alter the creatures coming through the Void—then Terra was facing a threat unlike anything they’d prepared for.

  And no one could know.

  Not yet.

  This mission was cssified at the highest level.

  Even Revan had given the order with a shadow in his tone.

  "Contain it. Confirm nothing. Ensure silence."

  Levi’s jaw tightened as the transport lifted off and veered toward the distant skyline.

  He didn’t speak again for the rest of the flight.

  He was already preparing for what they might find.

  And what they might not come back from.