C-Rank didn't feel like progress.
It felt like attention.
And Cyron hated attention.
By the third day after his evaluation, people stopped pretending they weren't watching him. Conversations cut off when he passed. Training partners hesitated before matching him. Even instructors—who were supposed to be unreadable—looked at him a little too long.
Like he was a problem that hadn't decided how dangerous it wanted to be yet.
Cyron sat alone on the upper walkway of Ebonreach, watching the training grounds below.
Below him, students fought in clean, controlled bursts of energy. Summons flickered in and out of existence—Warrior-tier beasts, elemental constructs, disciplined techniques.
Normal.
Predictable.
Safe.
He exhaled slowly.
"…This is weirdly peaceful."
Inside—
The voice responded immediately.
"It is temporary."
Cyron frowned slightly. "You always say that."
"Because it is always true."
He didn't argue.
Because lately… it was harder to disagree.
Academy Notice Board – Restricted Feed
A holographic display flickered to life near the corridor entrance.
Cyron didn't mean to look.
But the words caught him anyway.
GLOBAL BINDING FEDERATION ALERT
UNCLASSIFIED RUMOR REPORT: HIGH-RARITY HUNTER MOVEMENT
Multiple sightings of unidentified Binder groups
Targeting anomalous energy signatures
Possible involvement of "Origin Card Recovery Units"
Suspected objective: retrieval of active God/King-tier bindings
Cyron's expression didn't change.
But his hand tightened slightly.
"…Recovery units?" he muttered.
A student passing nearby leaned in too far, reading it too.
Then quickly stepped away.
Like the words themselves were contagious.
That evening, Cyron met Aniel in the lower training sector.
No greetings.
No wasted time.
Aniel simply tossed him a small device.
Cyron caught it. "…What is this?"
"Field relay," Aniel said. "Encrypted channel tracker."
Cyron raised an eyebrow. "Why do I need that?"
Aniel's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Because you've stopped being invisible."
That landed harder than expected.
Cyron looked down at the device.
"…I was trying to avoid that."
"You failed," Aniel replied flatly.
A pause.
Then—
"Or you succeeded in something else."
Cyron looked up. "Which is?"
Aniel didn't answer immediately.
Instead, shadows curled subtly at his feet.
"…You awakened something that doesn't stay hidden."
Cyron sighed. "Yeah. I noticed."
Inside—
The presence stirred.
Not violently.
Not hungry.
Just… aware.
"…They are approaching."
Cyron frowned internally. Who?
No answer.
Just a feeling.
Pressure.
Far away.
Closing.
Three Days Later – Ebonreach Upper District
The first incident didn't look like an attack.
It looked like an accident.
A training wing collapsed mid-session.
No explosion.
No warning.
Just silence—followed by a clean, unnatural disintegration of reinforced steel.
Three instructors vanished from surveillance feeds during the same twelve-second window.
No bodies were recovered.
No trace signatures recorded.
Only one anomaly remained.
A faint residual imprint of suppressed Origin energy.
C-Rank students were dismissed immediately.
Ebonreach went into partial lockdown.
Cyron stood in the evacuation corridor, watching the chaos move around him.
Students hurried past.
Instructors shouted orders.
Barrier systems reactivated overhead.
And still—
Something felt wrong.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
Just… present.
He touched his arm slightly.
The mark pulsed.
Slow.
Measured.
"…You feel that?" he muttered.
Inside—
A pause.
Then—
"…Yes."
That answer made his stomach tighten.
Aniel appeared beside him without announcement.
"You're not leaving," he said.
Cyron glanced at him. "Was I supposed to?"
"You're on the evacuation list."
Cyron frowned. "I didn't see my name."
"That's because I removed it."
Cyron blinked. "…You what?"
Aniel didn't look at him.
Instead, his gaze moved toward the distant upper structures of the academy.
"…They're here for you," he said quietly.
Cyron's expression shifted. "The rumor hunters?"
"No," Aniel replied.
A pause.
"Not rumor."
That word hit differently.
Cyron straightened slightly. "How do you know?"
Aniel finally looked at him.
And for the first time—
There was something sharper in his expression.
"…Because I've seen them before."
Silence.
Then—
"High-rarity hunters don't come for students," Aniel said. "They come for events."
Cyron's pulse slowed slightly. "And I'm one of those now?"
Aniel didn't deny it.
That was answer enough.
A distant alarm sounded.
Not academy protocol.
External.
Cyron looked up.
The sky above Ebonreach darkened slightly—not from clouds, but from a distortion in the barrier layer.
Something was pressing against it.
Testing it.
Aniel exhaled slowly.
"…They're early."
Cyron frowned. "You said they were coming."
"I said they were approaching," Aniel corrected.
A pause.
"…This is faster than expected."
Cyron's hand tightened.
"…So what now?"
Aniel finally turned fully toward him.
And his next words were calm.
Too calm.
"You stop hiding."
Cyron stared at him. "…That's your plan?"
"No," Aniel said.
A beat.
"This is theirs."
The barrier above Ebonreach flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
A section of it dimmed.
Not broken.
Not shattered.
Deactivated.
Cyron felt it immediately.
That pressure.
Not Bygon Blood.
Not Angelica's precision.
Something else.
Structured.
Cold.
Hungry in a different way.
Inside—
The voice spoke softly.
"…Now they see you."
Cyron exhaled slowly.
"…Great."
A pause.
Then—
Not warning.
Not threat.
Just acknowledgment.
"…Then show them what they found."
Far above the academy, unseen silhouettes moved along the edge of the barrier breach.
No banners.
No insignias.
Only faint resonance trails of sealed Origin energy devices.
One figure spoke quietly.
"Target signature confirmed."
Another answered.
"God-class variance?"
A pause.
Then—
"Yes."
Silence.
Then the final order came.
"Retrieve… or terminate."