13:16 - Dining Atrium,
A sleek, open dining arena carved into black stone and blue lighting. It smelled like citrus glass cleaner and high-end cafeteria food–lobster bisque one day, blood sausage and power protein trays the next.
Everyone ate here.
Except the Sovereign Table.
They had their own sanctum in the Spire. And Callum? He was probably buried elbow-deep in an exposed drone engine somewhere, muttering binary lullabies.
But for the rest of the student body–this was the one place hierarchy technically took a backseat. If St. Bernard's had a heart, it's the dining atrium
---
Alia Reivas dropped into her seat like gravity had a grudge.
Zuri was already there, legs crossed, sipping black tea like she'd poisoned it herself.
Tessa arrived a moment later, all smiles and bronzy highlight, slipping into her spot with the grace of a woman who could bankrupt you and still compliment your shoes.
The tray in front of Alia was meticulously portioned out.
Noctis diet.
High-protein. No sugar. Iron boost.
Probably loaded with hidden performance enhancers.
She poked at it.
"This tastes like resentment and fish oil."
"That's the Noctis seasoning," Zuri replied flatly.
"Mine tastes like guilt and quinoa," Tessa added, licking yogurt from a spoon.
"That's Argentum cuisine," Zuri said again, sipping.
The three of them broke into laughter just as two shadows fell over the table.
Tall, clean-cut, and confident with just enough charm to make it look unintentional.
One had a sharp Caelus brooding thing going-deep brown skin, tight curls, and eyes like he was already analyzing your trauma.
The other was sun-drenched gold, smirking like a prince, with a single Argentum pin on his jacket and too many rings for someone not named Carmen.
"Ladies," said the Caelus one, voice smooth. "Room for two?"
Zuri didn't blink.
"Malik," she greeted. "You still breathing?"
"Barely. These drills are criminal."
"Coming from a future business tryant, that means a lot."
Tessa leaned forward.
"You two know each other?"
"We sparred. He lost."
Malik smiled.
"I let you win. You looked like you needed it."
Zuri gave him a look. The kind that made men forget how to speak for at least 2-5 business minutes.
The other guy grinned, taking the seat across from Alia.
"Cade," he said simply. "House Caelus. Asset Intelligence, Information Laundering."
"Alia," she replied, tilting her head. "Spoiled, dramatic, emotionally unavailable."
"Nice résumé."
"Thanks. It's laminated."
He chuckled.
"So you're the girl Carmen sliced across the cheek last couple session?"
Alia smiled sweetly, tilting her chin.
"Y'all act like it's not the best fun I've had so far."
Zuri choked on her tea. Tessa giggled.
"I like her," Cade said, eyes twinkling.
"You shouldn't," Alia muttered, twirling her fork. "Too much tongue and very little warning."
Malik raised an eyebrow.
Tessa full-on wheezed into her napkin.
"Careful," Zuri said finally, lifting her eyes to Cade. "She may seem like a rose, but she's got Noctis thorns."
"Is that a warning?" Cade asked.
"That's me being generous."
Alia smirked at Zuri.
"Look at you, protecting me."
"No," Zuri replied. "Protecting the institution from what happens when you get bored."
Just then, the dining hall lights flickered softly–a warning signal.
Fifteen minutes left of lunch.
Cade leaned in slightly toward Alia.
"So what happens when you aren't bored?"
"You'll have to find out," Alia replied, rising with her tray, "if you survive long enough."
She walked off with a sway in her hips and a glittering flash of her Noctis cuff as her sleeve slipped.
Subtle.
Zuri watched her go.
Tessa exhaled like she'd just watched a romance novella start filming live.
Cade blinked.
"...Did I just get played?"
"Absolutely," Zuri said, standing. "And honestly? You're lucky you're cute."
---
14:04 - Hallway Junction, East Wing
The hallway was empty in that oddly threatening way St. Bernard's specialized in-too quiet, too pristine, like even the shadows were listening. The low hum of security cameras buzzed overhead, and the overhead screens were rotating through rank updates and disciplinary memos. Business as usual.
Alia was crouched in front of a snack dispenser.
Not using it–reprogramming it.
Her fingers flew across the glass panel, entering a string of numbers that would've triggered a mild security alert if anyone else were watching.
Click.
Click.
Clack.
A second later, the glass shimmered, the lights inside flickered, and two black-wrapped candy bars fell into the tray like defeated soldiers.
"Suspicious behavior for a Noctis student," came a voice behind her.
She didn't flinch.
Just tilted her head up with that signature lazy smirk, already pocketing the snacks.
"You watching me now, Cade?" she asked. "Little early to be obsessed."
Cade leaned against the wall beside her, arms crossed, not even trying to hide the smile twitching on his lips.
"It's hard to look away when someone's hacking a vending machine for sugar. Should I call security?"
"Go ahead," she said, unwrapping a bar. "Tell them I cracked the snack matrix."
"Tell me your code and I'll let it slide."
"Cute. But no."
She took a bite.
Unbothered. Unrushed. Unfazed.
Cade narrowed his eyes, amused.
He looked like he was trying to solve a riddle that kept changing shape.
"Anyway," he said, casual as hell, "there's a thing in two nights. A gathering. Inside the walls."
She blinked.
"Like... metaphorical walls or 'find the door and pray' walls?"
"The latter," he said, stepping closer. "Ever heard of the arcade?"
Alia looked unimpressed.
"Please," she said around another bite. "I've bled in the
arcade. You're not special for knowing about it."
"I didn't say I was."
"You implied it. With your whole 'mysterious invite from a tall boy with jawline privilege' act."
Cade laughed.
Actually laughed, the kind that cracked his cool exterior just a little.
"You're not like the others here."
"You keep saying that," Alia said, brushing imaginary lint off her Noctis jacket. "What, because I don't faint when Sovereigns breathe? Or because I hack snack machines like a war criminal?"
"Because you pretend you don't care," Cade said, "but I think you care more than anyone."
That... was too close.
Alia raised a brow, suddenly serious.
"Careful, Cade. You flirt too hard, you might find something real."
For once, he had no comeback.
Just a slight twitch in his expression, like she'd outmaneuvered him in a game he invented.
"See you at the party," he finally said, recovering. "Or not. Your call."
"You'll see me," she replied, biting into the second bar. "Try not to cry about it."
And with that, Alia turned and walked off, black boots echoing down the hall like a promise.
Cade watched her go.
---
21:47 – The Stack, Rear Corridor.
Just then, a flicker.
Movement.
Peripheral, but sharp. Like instinct.
Alia looked up.
Through the glass wall at the back of the Stack, blurred slightly by condensation from the air-cooling system, someone stood outside.
Not just anyone.
Carmen.
She was framed by the corridor's pale overhead lights, all pale silver and shadow. A silhouette cut from precision. Her trench coat hung off one shoulder like it had been shrugged there mid-motion. The other hand was gripping her phone loosely. Shirt sleeves rolled to the elbow. Collarbones sharp enough to wound.
That wolf cut of hers? A little messier than usual, sweaty at the ends, falling over her eyes like she'd just come from either sparring or chaos.
She didn't see Alia.
Not yet.
She was staring at her phone. Still. Focused. Her thumb hovered over the screen, then stopped completely. Her brows knit together, a frown sliding across her mouth like an unfinished sentence.
She exhaled.
Not annoyed, not tired–processing.
The kind of sigh Carmen only released when things weren't fitting together the way she wanted them to.
Then she moved.
Rolled her shoulders back.
Adjusted her collar with practiced ease, a habit probably born from years of wearing things more expensive than most lives.
And then–
Her head lifted.
Her gaze snapped forward, sharply, suddenly.
Right into the Stack.
Right at Alia.
For a moment, the entire academy went quiet.
The air stilled.
Their eyes met.
Alia sat frozen, spine instinctively straightening as her pulse shot up, fast and sharp. But she didn't look away.
Not this time.
Carmen didn't either.
Her gaze lingered.
Not surprised. Not warm. But... locked. Focused. Reading her like a file she couldn't classify.
Then, Carmen blinked. Her mouth tilted, just barely.
And she turned to go.
But before her shoulder could disappear out of view, Alia stood and knocked her knuckles gently on the glass.
Tap. Tap.
Carmen paused. Looked over her shoulder.
Then slowly, like she wasn't entirely sure why she was doing it, she stepped back into view and pushed open the side door into the Stack.
The cold air followed her in. So did her presence.
She didn't say anything at first. Just looked.
"You keep showing up," Alia said quietly, arms crossed, "I'm gonna start thinking you're checking on me."
Carmen blinked once.
Then again.
Her voice came low, level.
"That implies you're worth checking on."
Alia smirked, even though it hit somewhere below her ribs.
"Was that a compliment or a warning?"
"Take it however helps you sleep."
Alia stepped closer, but only by a few inches.
"You don't sleep either," she said, tilting her head. "Do you?"
Carmen's jaw flexed.
That unreadable expression again. Like she wasn't used to people... not backing down.
"What are you doing here this late?" Carmen asked instead, voice softer now. Not kind. Not cold. Just careful.
"Same as you, apparently," Alia replied. "Avoiding things."
Pause.
She looked down at Alia's hand.
The scar on her cheek.
Back up at her eyes.
"The cut," Carmen said. "Still hurts?"
"Only when I smile," Alia said, smiling.
Carmen's lips twitched. A hint of amusement, buried too deep to surface properly.
"Then stop doing that," Carmen said. "It doesn't suit you."
"If smiling bothers you, I'll smile harder" Alia replied.
Another pause.
Then Carmen stepped back, already turning toward the exit again.
"Get some rest, Reivas."
"You say that like you're not gonna be pacing the halls till 3AM again."
Carmen stopped at the door. Looked over her shoulder one last time.
"If I do... don't follow."
And with that, she was gone.
Alia stood there, heart doing absolutely stupid things against her ribs, the cold air still clinging to her sleeves like a warning.
She didn't say anything.
But she whispered it to herself anyway.
"You want me to."