The hall didn't settle after the spar.
People moved, but not the way they had before. Conversations stayed low, clipped short whenever James passed within earshot. A few looked his way, then quickly found something else to focus on.
No one came up to him.
That alone said enough.
Leon stood nearby, rolling his wrist, opening and closing his hand like he was testing it.
"It's fine now," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Then he looked at James. "But that wasn't normal."
James didn't answer.
He was still replaying it.
The moment before contact.
The shift.
The way it slipped past him.
"You felt it too," Leon said.
James gave a small nod. "...Yeah."
Leon let out a breath. "Then you need to figure that out fast."
The doors at the far end of the hall opened.
Not loud.
Still, the sound carried.
Two people stepped inside.
They didn't look like trainees.
Dark uniforms. Clean, structured. No visible markings, but nothing about them felt casual.
They didn't glance around.
They walked straight toward the instructor.
The room grew quiet without anyone asking for it.
James felt it before he understood why.
That same sensation from earlier brushed against his awareness again.
Stronger this time.
Closer.
Leon noticed the change in him. "What is it?"
James kept his eyes on the two figures. "...I don't know. But it's them."
The instructor met them halfway.
A few words passed between them.
No raised voices.
No gestures.
But the instructor didn't wave them off.
Didn't question why they were there.
One of them turned slightly.
Their gaze moved across the room—
and stopped on James.
Distance didn't dull it.
He felt it land.
"James."
The instructor's voice cut through the silence.
"Step forward."
Every eye followed him.
He walked.
Each step felt heavier—not from weight, but from attention pressing in from every side.
He stopped a few paces away.
Up close, the difference stood out more.
They didn't carry tension.
Didn't try to impose it either.
They just stood there, as if the outcome had already been decided.
"This is him," the instructor said.
One of them studied James for a moment.
Then—
"Show us."
James frowned slightly. "Show you what?"
"The interference."
A ripple passed through the room.
Leon shifted behind him. "...You reported it?"
"I didn't need to," the instructor replied.
James's fingers tightened at his side.
"How do you even know about it?"
The second figure answered.
"We track irregular manifestations."
The words settled heavily.
"Demonstrate," the first one said.
Not loud.
Not forceful.
But final.
James hesitated.
Not out of refusal.
He didn't know if he could control it.
"Use me."
Leon stepped forward, picking up his practice sword again.
"If they're here, might as well show them properly."
The instructor didn't stop him.
James exhaled once.
Then nodded.
They took position.
The rest of the hall faded into the background.
Leon moved first.
Clean. Direct.
James met him.
Contact.
The spark snapped into place—
and the pressure followed.
It spread faster than before.
Leon's reaction slipped immediately.
His next strike dragged behind his intent. He forced it through, correcting mid-motion—
James stepped in.
The space between them tightened.
Leon's footing broke rhythm.
He caught himself, but the sequence had already fallen apart.
They separated.
Leon shook his head once. "That. It happens right there."
Silence stretched.
"Again," one of the figures said.
James didn't move.
Something felt off.
The pressure hadn't faded.
It stayed.
Low. Constant.
"...Wait," James said.
Leon frowned. "What?"
James focused on it.
This wasn't how it worked before.
It didn't build toward contact.
It was already there.
His chest tightened.
"...It's still active."
That drew a reaction.
Not from Leon.
From them.
"Continue."
The word landed harder this time.
James hesitated for a fraction of a second—
then moved.
Leon met him.
Their blades touched—
The pressure surged.
Far stronger than before.
Leon's movement collapsed outright.
His body lagged behind his own command—
And then—
It turned.
A sharp jolt shot up James's arm.
His grip faltered.
The floor tilted for a split second.
He stepped back hard, breaking contact.
The pressure snapped.
Gone.
Silence followed.
Leon stood still, breathing unevenly.
"...That was worse."
James steadied himself.
That jolt hadn't come from Leon.
The two figures stepped forward.
Closer now.
"Enough."
One of them looked at the instructor.
"We'll take it from here."
The words hung in the air.
The instructor didn't answer immediately.
His gaze shifted to James, then back to them.
"...On what grounds?"
"Uncontrolled interference affecting another individual's function."
Leon straightened. "He didn't lose control. It just—"
"Step back."
Leon held his ground for a moment.
The instructor raised a hand slightly.
That was enough.
Leon stepped back.
Silence settled again.
"This isn't a formal incident," the instructor said.
"No," the figure replied.
"Not yet."
The meaning was clear without explanation.
James felt it settle in.
This had moved past training.
The first figure turned back to him.
"You'll come with us."
Not a request.
James didn't answer right away.
The room stayed still behind him.
Everyone listening.
He ran through everything that had just happened.
The interference.
The moment it slipped.
The way they stepped in and took control of it.
No discussion.
No say.
His hand tightened at his side.
"...And if I don't?"
A brief pause.
"You will."
No change in tone.
No attempt to convince him.
That made it heavier.
James held his gaze.
And understood.
This wasn't about what he wanted.
It never had been.
His fingers curled slightly—
and the faint buzz under his skin stirred.
Not fading.
Responding.
For a brief moment—
the air around him shifted.
Subtle.
But not unnoticed.
One of them stepped forward immediately.
"Control it."
James didn't move.
Because he felt it.
Not the spark.
The pressure.
Spreading.
Wider than before.
The man's eyes narrowed slightly.
"...It's already expanding."
Silence snapped tight across the room.
James exhaled slowly.
"...I'm trying."
"Try faster."
That was when it clicked.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
Something colder.
If he didn't control this—
They would.
The pressure tightened—
just for a second—
then snapped back into him.
Gone.
The room stayed still.
"...You're coming with us," the man said again.
This time—
it wasn't just a statement.
It was final.
James didn't argue.
But something in his chest shifted.
Quiet.
But firm.
This wouldn't happen again.