Jeremiah hit the lower bay just as the countdown on his communicator ticked to zero.
The transport sat idling near the exit ramp, lights low, engine humming with impatiences.
Mariah and Tessa were already there, standing beside it with their gear secured and Alliance-issued uniforms zipped and ready.
He slowed without meaning to.
The uniforms did things he didn't need them to do.
Mariah's alliance uniform was criminal, it fit her cleanly, tailored in a way that matched her. The fabric was doing heroic work, stretched taut over her hips, fighting a losing battle against her curves.
Tessa's was the opposite. Standard issue, yet she wore it with a tantalizing ease that made the uniform feel dangerously misplaced. She carried a well-endowed figure with confidence, her outfit emphasizing a soft, curvaceous shape.
Focus, he told himself.
Mariah looked up, her expression unreadable behind her glasses. She didn't speak at first, just watched him until the weight of her gaze forced Jeremiah to straighten his posture, a flicker of nervous discomfort prickling at his skin.
Finally, she adjusted her frames. "You're cutting it close."
"Still on time," he countered.
"Whatever that counts for," she said, already turning away. "Let's move."
She slid into the driver's seat without hesitation. Jeremiah took the passenger side, Tessa climbing into the back with an easy sprawl like she owned the space.
The vehicle pulled out smoothly, gliding onto a secured route as the bay doors sealed behind them.
A translucent display flickered to life in front of Tessa and Jeremiah, projecting a city map layered with Alliance markers.
Mariah spoke without looking away from the road. "I just got the finalized details from Overseer Selene."
The map zoomed in at a specific location on the map in front of Jeremiah and Tessa.
ALLIANCE SCHOLASTIC ANNEX — BAYPORT
It sat in the upper eastern quarter of the city, tucked between corporate research towers and gated residential blocks reserved for high-clearance Alliance personnel.
The surrounding streets were wide and quiet, designed for controlled traffic rather than public flow. Even on the map, the area looked insulated—buffer zones layered around the annex like concentric rings.
Mariah adjusted the wheel, guiding the vehicle through a smooth turn. "Change of plans. Nyx is being held at an Alliance scholastic annex."
Tessa frowned. "That's not an academy?"
"Yes and no," Mariah replied. "It's where the Alliance stashes the people they can't afford to lose—and rich kids."
The map scaled down, revealing a sprawl of courtyards, academic buildings, and dormitories. He shifted the display, uncovering the hidden layer of internal checkpoints and the precise positions where guards stood watch.
Jeremiah studied the map. "So, not students? This looks like a place for students."
"Not in the usual sense," Mariah replied. She drove in silence for a moment before adding, "Everyone there is a genius in their own right. It's just not for combat."
Jeremiah frowned. "The students here—they're mages, aren't they?"
"Yes," Mariah said. "The Annex uses magic for research. The goal is to push our advancements through a single, proven fact."
"And what fact is that?" Jeremiah asked, leaning in.
She caught his eyes in the rearview mirror, her smile sharp and full of conviction. "Paradigm shift. The idea that those who come after can see the mistakes of the old generation and choose a better path. We are always evolving."
Jeremiah sat back, processing. She was right, in a way, but she sounded a little too devotedto the idea.
Jeremiah studied the map and felt a slow, sinking unease settle in his chest. This wasn't going to be as clean as Selene made it sound.
The vehicle continued through the quiet district, the annex still a few minutes out.
Tessa shifted in her seat, gaze drifting to Jeremiah's reflection in the display. "Alright," she said. "I've been patient."
He met her eyes frowning."What?"
She grinned. "Who are you?"
Mariah flicked a glance at him before returning her focus to the road. Jeremiah exhaled through his nose; he'd known this interrogation was coming.
"I'm Jeremiah," he said. "Alliance asset, field agent."
Tessa crossed her arms. "You're dodging."
"Professionally," he conceded. He leaned back, his voice taking on a more casual edge. "Look, I never went to an academy or had the fancy training, but I'm difficult to kill with mundane spells and I'm very good at magic. Overseer Selene finds that combination useful."
A heavy silence followed. Both Tessa and Mariah leveled him with a flat, synchronized stare.
"...That's not the answer I was looking for," Tessa said.
"It's all true," Jeremiah countered. "Just not in the order you wanted."
Tessa's grin sharpened. "And Overseer Selene? What about her?" She leaned forward into his space.
"You don't get walked into a SOMA unit by an Elder unless there's history."
He weighed his words carefully. "She found me. I proved useful. She kept me."
Mariah's eyes flicked to the mirror again—lingering longer this time. "That's not the whole truth," she noted.
"No," Jeremiah agreed. "But it's the part you need to know."
Tessa clicked her tongue. "You say that like we won't circle back."
Jeremiah sighed, the sound of a man bracing for impact. "Alright. Look, Tessa—I'll admit, you're very beautiful."
She blinked, her momentum faltering.
"But I'm not an easy man," he continued calmly. "One cute smile and a little eyelash-batting isn't going to crack me. Let's actually get to know each other first. Then maybe I'll trade you a few secrets. It works better when the interest is mutual."
Tessa stared at him, her mouth slightly agape as a faint heat colored her cheeks. "...Wow. Did you just—you're ridiculous."
"And honest," Jeremiah smiled.
The two women watched him for a beat, their expressions narrowing in near-perfect, suspicious sync before they finally let it go.
"Whatever," Tessa muttered, still blushing. She sighed dramatically. "Fine. Capabilities, then. Quadra-elemental right? I've never seen one in action."
"With what this mission entails," Jeremiah said, his voice dropping an octave, "we're all going to get very familiar with each other's capabilities."
Mariah kept her tone even. "Which elements do you consider your specialty?"
"Whichever one the situation requires." When Tessa scoffed, Jeremiah softened his tone.
"Honestly, as a Quadra-elemental, the hardest part is picking the right tool for the job."
"So you don't just use them all at once?" Mariah asked, her eyes narrowing in the display.
Jeremiah looked at her like she was joking. "I prefer to last in a battle, not burn out after three spells."
Tessa bit back a smile, but before she could retort, Mariah cut in. "Fair enough. So, what's your combat preference?"
"I have a high-level spell or two," Jeremiah said without hesitation, "but my trusty sword is how I like to handle things."
Tessa blinked. "You just said you can wield all four elements."
"And I prefer to use them to complement my Swordsmanship," he said. "Magic draws a lot of attention... and for void creatures, my blade ends things a lot faster."
"That's… you know," Tessa said, her voice trailing off. "Kind of hot."
Jeremiah paused, glancing at her. This time, he didn't deflect. A real smile touched his mouth—quick and unguarded. "Yeah?" he asked. "You think so?"
Tessa grinned. "What? Don't you agree?"
"I do," Jeremiah nodded immediately. He reached down, caressing the ring on his finger that housed his sword. His expression turned completely serious. "Weapons don't betray you. A blade does exactly what you've trained it to do. If it fails, that's on you." He paused, then added, "There's something very comforting in that."
Tessa covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she fought back a laugh.
Jeremiah's smile lingered for half a second longer than it should have—then died the moment he realized how much he'd just geeked out. He cleared his throat and looked away, his ears tinging red.
He risked a glance toward Mariah. She was still facing the road, hands steady on the wheel, but she was visibly smirking.
That did it. Jeremiah's cool exterior collapsed entirely. "I'm going to stop talking now."
Mariah glanced sideways at Jeremiah, catching the way he'd sunk into the passenger seat, clearly regretting every life choice that led to this moment.
A small laugh slipped out of her before she could stop it.
"Alright," she said, still smiling, "enough. We're getting close."
Tessa leaned back, chuckling to herself. "Yes, Captain."
Mariah's attention returned to the road.
That was when she stiffened.
Her hand rose and tapped twice against the edge of her glasses. The lenses flickered—barely visible unless you knew what to look for—thin runic threads lighting briefly across the glass. The Ardent Optics weren't just any pair of glasses. They were multi-spectrum mana analyzers keyed directly to her core, capable of reading distortions, mana signatures, and layered artifacts.
Jeremiah felt it a second later.
A pressure shift. Like stepping into deeper water.
"We just crossed a boundary of some kind," Mariah said.
Tessa frowned. "Barrier?"
"Veil," Mariah corrected. "And it seems to be Active."
The map updated, blinking as its outer layers distorted.
"A mana-based concealment field," Mariah continued. "Designed to obscure a location from standard perception. Basically cutting contact with the outside. If you don't know what you're looking for, you walk through it and never realize anything has changed."
Tessa's expression darkened. "So we're already inside the problem."
"Yes," Mariah said. "And it wasn't here an hour ago."
Jeremiah's gaze sharpened, senses pressing outward. The world felt… muted. Sound dampened. Mana drawn inward instead of flowing freely.
Someone had wrapped the annex in silence.
Mariah slowed the vehicle. "From here on everyone is battle ready."
Jeremiah and Tessa nodded.
The annex rose ahead—And somewhere inside, Nxy Althaea was no longer alone.
Nyx
The veil finished sealing with a sensation she felt more than heard.
The air shifted—subtle, like a breath being held too long. Mana tightened around the annex, folding inward muting the presence.
She lifted her head slowly, violet eyes drifting from the open page on her desk to the far wall. The wards embedded in the library walls hummed beneath her senses, their rhythm just the same as usual.
The library was quiet the way it was meant to be—but something about it was wrong. Nyx had felt this before. The sensation settled over her like déjà vu, as if the moment had already happened once and was simply choosing to repeat itself, and the realization sent a slow chill through Nyx. She could feel the mana thinning .
She wasn't alone in sensing it.
Movement stalled across the room. A few practitioners paused mid-page, brows knitting as they felt the flow of mana falter. Someone shifted in their seat, uneasy, hand hovering near a focus artifact without quite knowing why.
Nyx's gaze drifted across the library and stopped.
The instructor was already looking at her.
There was no alarm in his expression, no flicker of curiosity. It was a dead, empty stare that made her stomach tighten.
Her breath caught. She had seen that look before—just a flash of it, long ago enough to have been dismissed until this exact moment gave it shape. The memory slid into place with a quiet, chilling certainty.
Fear settled in then, heavy and cold in her chest. This wasn't a possibility anymore; it was reality.
Nyx's fingers curled at her sides. It was happening.
She didn't hesitate. The moment her eyes locked with the instructor's dead stare, she was already moving. She shoved back from the desk and grabbed her bag in one fluid motion, slinging it over her shoulder as she bolted for the exit.
Chairs scraped harshly against the floor. Someone shouted her name, but she was already gone, bursting through the library doors and into the hall.
Behind her, the instructor's expression finally shifted.
It darkened.
His gaze tracked her retreating form through the glass, and the air itself seemed to shudder—then break.
He stepped out after her, mana flaring openly now. A green core wind mage, power coiling tight and violent around him. A Peak expert. His name flickered through her mind—Professor Vaelor—and it did nothing to make this better.
Nyx hit the steps at full speed and didn't slow.
She vaulted the railing, body going weightless for a breath as she dropped two stories, wind ripping past her cloak. She landed hard, rolled, and came up sprinting left into the outer courtyard.
There was silence.
Too much of it.
The annex grounds beyond the library were a ghost town. Nyx didn't stop to wonder where everyone had gone; she was too busy listening to the frantic thumping of her heart and the ragged echo of her own breath.
Then, a sudden weight of pressure slammed down from above.
Nyx skidded to a halt and looked up. Vaelor was hovering atop a low administrative building, his robes snapping in a wind he controlled effortlessly. Behind him, four figures stepped out of the empty air—masked, tall, and heavily armed.
Their demon-tribalmasks were carved in warped, jagged patterns, their blades and axes gleaming as they caught the midday sun.
Nyx's face was drained of color.
She felt them immediately. Counting the instructor, there were two GreenCores mages—strong enough to kill her with a thought—and three Experts. Their YellowCores were weaker, but to Nyx, they were lethal.
Vaelor's voice cut through the air with chilling ease. "Lady of Light. We are here."
That was all she needed to hear. Nyx whipped around and bolted. "Nope."
She wasn't athletic. She hated running, hated training drills, and loathed every physical activity known to man. She especially hated every instructor who had ever told her that cardio built a strong foundation. She was built for research and development, for quiet labs and steady hands—not for sprints.
But adrenaline didn't care about her preferences.
Behind her were 4 creepy looking masked figures with gleaming blades and axes catching the sunlight, and a deranged instructor whose mana pressed down like a storm. Fear fueled mana burned hot flooding her limbs, dragging speed out of her muscles she didn't know she had.
Nyx ran—lungs screaming, legs aching, heart pounding—faster than she ever had in her life.
She could feel them now—pressure bearing down from every direction, their mana signatures clawing at her awareness. They weren't subtle. They didn't need to be.
Her orange core burned as she ran. Strong for her level, but nowhere near enough for what was chasing her. Worse still, beneath the strain, she felt it—the truth she never spoke aloud.
The three cores she awakened.
That was why they wanted her; it had to be.
The wind howled.
A blade of compressed air screamed past her shoulder, slicing clean through a row of windows. Glass detonated outward in a cascading explosion, shards raining across the courtyard. Nyx ducked, skidding across stone as the ground behind her buckled—two walls of earth surging up, trying to close her in.
She slid under one as it slammed shut behind her, stone pulverizing itself from the force. Another gust of wind hit the adjacent building, ripping the exterior from the frame, sending debris crashing down behind her.
The cafeteria loomed ahead, its glass façade gleaming in the sun like a promise.
Just get there, she told herself, pouring every ounce of strength into her legs.
The ground flared with a sudden, violent surge of mana. Stone erupted upward, reshaping itself mid-air into massive, hand-shaped constructs. The earth-hewn fingers snapped shut exactly where she had been a second before.
Nyx swerved hard, her boots skidding on the grit. She ducked low as a second stone hand swept over her head, then leaped sideways as a third slammed down behind her, pulverizing the pavement into a spray of stinging shrapnel.
She landed wrong. A sharp, hot pain flared up her calf, but she didn't slow. She couldn't not if she wanted to survive.
Her breath tore at her lungs, her chest burning as she twisted, rolled, and ducked. Every desperate movement was driven less by skill and more by raw survival instinct. To keep her body moving just fast enough to outpace the ground beneath her, she began to bleed mana directly into her limbs.
Most people would have collapsed by now.
She could feel her three cores pulsing—overlapping channels of energy feeding into one another. They provided a reservoir of power deeper than anyone at her level had a right to possess. It didn't make her a warrior, but it gave her more mana to burn through than her enemies anticipated.
It kept her alive.
A final stone hand erupted directly in her path. Nyx dropped into a slide on one knee, feeling her skin tear through her leggings as she skidded across the rough stone. Before the fingers could close, she kicked off the palm of the construct, using its own momentum to launch herself forward into a full sprint.
The cafeteria doors were finally within reach.
Wind screamed past her shoulder, shattering windows along the building's side as she dove forward—and crashed through the doors.
Glass exploded inward.
Nyx hit the floor rolling, momentum carrying her across polished tile as alarms finally began to scream behind her. She came up gasping, legs shaking, but moving.
Inside, everything was still.
The cafeteria wasn't crowded—just a scattering of students and a few instructors—but the explosions had reached them first. Conversations died the instant Nyx burst through the doors, glass detonating inward as she crashed into the room. Shards skittered across the tile.
Students froze, someone screamed then panic hit all at once.
They scrambled for exits, chairs scraping and tables tipping as the shock finally caught up to them. Instructors were already moving—hands lifting, mana flaring instinctively as they turned toward Nyx, trying to understand why she was here and what had followed her inside.
Nyx didn't slow.
She shot them a single look as she passed, breath ragged, eyes filled with exhaustion and terror. "Run if you want to live."
That was all she spared them.
She cut left, boots pounding across tile, and took the stairs two at a time as alarms finally began to wail. Behind her, instructors shouted orders, ushering students away from the blast zone.
Nyx didn't look back.
The roof access was all that mattered now.
Nyx took the stairs hard, boots hammering against stone as she climbed.
Behind her, voices rose—sharp, urgent commands from instructors, mana flaring as they rushed to intercept whatever had followed her inside. She felt it more than heard it, the sudden surge of power rippling through the annex like a held breath.
"Instructor Vaelor—!"
"Vaelor, wait—!"
Both voices cut off at once.
A final flare of mana spiked—bright, frantic—
Then vanished.
Another flared bright—then vanished. The last flickers of familiar mana signatures winked out beneath her feet.
The silence that followed was hollow.
Fear hit her then—cold and heavy, settling deep in her chest. The quiet, awful understanding that the people who should have been able to stop this… hadn't. That whoever was coming for her had already decided how this ended.
For half a second, her legs threatened to give out. Then something bright and stubborn sparked in her chest.
*No.*
Not like this.
Nyx shoved the fear down, grabbed onto that raw, burning refusal, and ran. She hit the rooftop door hard, bursting through into open air as the wind tore at her and the annex fell away behind her.