"Pass! Pass! Pass!"
"Ben, go deep! Go deep!"
Jack could hear the distant shouts of the rugby players carrying over the field.
Slosh-slosh.
The rhythmic waves of the lake water hit the shore.
Jack pulled his knees against his chest. The cool breeze rolling off the water did nothing to settle his racing pulse.
"I believe this theory for one very specific reason," Liam added, his voice growing incredibly quiet.
Jack looked at him, his brow furrowing. "Which is?"
"The media," Liam said softly, his eyes locked onto the shimmering surface of the lake. He dragged his index finger through the shallow water near the bank, sending a series of small ripples outward.
"Think about the pure logistics of it, Jack. A traumatized thirteen-year-old boy shows up at a local police precinct claiming his entire house literally disappeared overnight. He claims his grandparents look right through him and don't recognize his face. His middle school suddenly has absolutely no record of his enrollment."
Liam pulled his dripping finger out of the water, watching the ripples expand across the surface.
"In a normal, functioning world, that is the exact definition of a bizarre, viral news story. That is the kind of mystery that breaks the internet."
Liam turned his head slowly, looking directly into Jack's eyes.
"A local reporter should have been all over that precinct within hours," Liam whispered.
He reached slightly behind him, picking up a handful of loose earth and letting it fall slowly.
"There should have been news vans parked outside. There should have been cameras shoved in my face. There should have been a dozen sensationalized newspaper articles about the 'Boy Who Doesn't Exist'."
He paused. The wind filled the silence with a soft whoosh.
Liam suddenly slammed his palm down flat against the small pile of dirt he had just dropped, pressing it hard into the earth.
"But there was nothing. During those entire few days of intense police investigation, not a single journalist ever walked through the doors of that station. Not a single article was ever written, not even in a local tabloid. It was a complete, total media blackout."
Jack felt the hairs on his arms stand up, goosebumps forming along his skin. A cold shiver that had nothing to do with the setting sun ran down his spine.
"You think the people who erased your family—"
"—the entity, or syndicate, backing the man in the black coat," Liam interrupted, his tone dropping to absolute ice.
He slowly lifted his hand, leaving a deep, compressed handprint in the damp mud.
"They possessed the sheer political, financial, and systemic power to completely erase my family's civil records, rewrite government property deeds, and silence an entire police precinct just to keep a missing child case off the news."
Jack looked down at his own hands. His fingers were trembling slightly against his kneecaps. He clenched them into fists, trying to steady himself, but the sheer, overwhelming scale of the enemy was suffocating. He realized that they were hiding from a massive, invisible system—an empire that completely controlled the institutions of the outside world.
"Ms. Amelia and Mr. Vidot might have known exactly what kind of monster they were dealing with," Liam reasoned.
He plucked a thick blade of grass and slowly tore it straight down the middle.
"They must've figured it out," he said quietly, dropping the torn pieces onto the ground. "The moment my face hit a screen, that organization—whatever you want to call it—would've traced the broadcast. Found me in minutes."
He exhaled slowly.
"Skipping the police that night… it wasn't just about hiding abilities." His voice hardened. "It kept all three of us alive till morning."
Jack didn't respond. He just sat there, staring at the torn pieces of grass, letting the heavy reality sink in.
After a long moment, he asked, "That man in the black coat…" His voice came out thinner than he expected. "Did you ever find out who he really was?"
Liam let out a slow, weary exhale. He looked older than his years in that moment.
"No one knows his name, Jack. And no one probably ever will. But here's the most terrifying thing…"
Liam reached over and gathered a small handful of tiny, scattered pebbles from the shoreline.
"…after I came to this Academy, after I spent years talking to other students from all over the world, I realized he wasn't unique."
Liam turned to face Jack completely, holding his open palm out to show the collection of stones.
"As I told you earlier, almost every single student here has a story like ours. Everyone has been targeted, haunted, or hunted by someone in the dark."
He pointed to one stone, then another.
"In my case, it was a man in a black coat who tore apart a forest. In yours, it was that kidnapper in Canada. For others, it was an extraction team, or a sudden ambush in their own homes."
Then it clicked in Jack's mind. "It's not just random attacks."
"Exactly," Liam nodded grimly.
He slowly tilted his hand, letting the pebbles drop one by one into the dark water.
Plip. Plop.
"We've realized that this isn't the work of one or two rogue individuals looking to make a quick profit. It's a massive, cold-blooded operation. It's highly organized, it's entirely global, and its reach covers major portions of the civilized world."
He let the last few stones slide off his palm.
Plunk.
"We aren't just dealing with a few scattered criminals, Jack. We are being actively harvested. To them, we aren't human beings. We are nothing more than valuable assets."
Jack felt a wave of nausea hit him. The idea of being 'harvested' made his skin crawl. He wrapped his arms tighter around his legs.
"But didn't anyone ask the teachers?" he pleaded, his brow furrowed in desperate confusion. "They are adults and are incredibly powerful. They must know more than they're telling us. Why aren't they stopping it?"
"We asked," Liam replied, his voice laced with a bitter sort of resignation.
He rubbed the remaining dirt off his empty palms.
"And their answer was even more unsettling than the mystery itself. The teachers believe that the world is simply shifting into something incredibly dangerous."
Liam looked back out at the vast, rippling lake, watching the waves push against each other.
"They say that with the sudden rise of ability users across the globe, the emergence of syndicates and well-funded terrorist groups is not just logical—it's inevitable. They told us it would be far more unusual if something like this wasn't happening."
Liam looked out over the water. A dry, hollow sound—heh—escaped his throat.
He reached down, digging his fingers into the wet earth near the waterline. He quickly rolled two messy lumps of mud, pinching the tops so they roughly looked like crude, lopsided people.
He placed them on a flat stone between him and Jack.
"Think about human nature, Jack," he said. "Just look at standard history."
He picked up a broken yellow weed and dropped it between the two mud figures. He pushed them together with his thumbs until they mashed into each other with a damp squish.
"Normal humans have committed the most horrific atrocities throughout the centuries just for a piece of bread… a plot of land, or a drop of oil."
Liam wiped a streak of mud off his thumb. The bitter amusement completely left his face.
"Here? The stakes are infinite."
He picked up a smooth pebble from the bank and flicked it into the lake, the stone hitting the surface with a sharp plink. The reality of calm water fractured instantly, the spreading ripples violently distorting the reflection of the setting sun.
"We are talking about god-like abilities. The power to reshape reality…"
Liam turned his attention back to the flat stone. He grabbed another handful of wet earth, carelessly dropping half a dozen more shapeless mud figures onto the rock. Then, he picked up a large, heavy stone from the grass.
"...generate endless energy, or…"
He brought the heavy rock down with a loud thwack, instantly flattening the entire group of mud figures into a single, dirty smear.
"…decimate entire armies."
Liam tossed the rock aside. He wiped his dirty hands on his trousers, his dark eyes locking onto Jack.
"To the rest of the world, we are the ultimate gold mine. And people… people will always kill for gold."
Liam kept his tone even, his voice cutting clearly through the chill of the breeze. He dragged a dirty fingernail across the flat stone, scratching a crude, lopsided circle into the smeared mud.
"There's a name the teachers brought up during a global dynamics lecture… The Orion Syndicate."
Jack frowned, staring at the rough shape on the rock. "Orion."
"Every time there's a massive, unexplained terrorist attack involving abilities, or a sudden, highly coordinated corporate buyout of rare resources…"
Liam picked up a small, jagged pebble and pushed it right into the center of the mud circle. He pressed his thumb down hard, forcing the stone deep until it was completely swallowed by the dark earth with a wet schlick.
"…their name is buried somewhere in the headlines."
Liam let out a slow breath, his eyes scanning the amber surface of the lake.
"The teachers suspect most of these organized hunters—including the man in the black coat who took my family—are part of Orion. They operate entirely in the gaps between international laws."
He leaned forward and plunged his hand into the murky, shallow edge of the water. The dark lake instantly hid his fingers from view. He twitched them slightly beneath the surface, sending out small, unnatural ripples that disturbed the water.
"We can't officially confirm it yet, but we all feel it. They are the hand inside the glove… pulling the strings from the dark."
Jack stared down at the flat stone. He looked at the crushed mud figures and the jagged pebble buried deep in the dark earth. He took a slow, shuddering breath. He finally understood.
The world outside these walls was a sprawling, invisible chessboard, and players like Orion were making their moves in the dark.
He pressed his shoe hard into the damp grass, feeling the solid ground beneath him. This academy wasn't just an elite school. It was a fortified bunker keeping them safe from an enemy that already owned the outside world.
"Look," Liam said softly, breaking the heavy, suffocating tension.
Jack blinked, pulling himself out of his dark thoughts, and raised his head.
The sun dipped below the distant tree line. The bright sky fractured into streaks of deep orange and bruised purple. The light reflecting off the rippling artificial lake shifted from piercing gold to a soft, burning amber, painting the campus in long, stretching shadows.
A sharp breeze suddenly came off the water, biting through Jack's thin undershirt. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering mildly.
Liam slapped his thighs with a loud smack and pushed himself up from the damp grass. He stretched his long arms high over his head, his spine popping with a dull crack. He rubbed his palms together, vigorously brushing the dried mud and dirt off his hands.
In an instant, the grim, analytical seriousness vanished from his face, dusted away with the dirt. He was replaced, once again, by the calm, slightly tired demeanor of a helpful senior.
"It gets cold out here incredibly fast once the sun sets," Liam said, offering a strong hand down to Jack. "Grab your bag."
Jack took the hand, letting the older boy pull him to his feet. He brushed the loose grass off his green trousers and slung the strap of his heavy messenger bag over his shoulder. The weight of it pressed securely against his side, a physical reminder of where he was.
"We're heading back to the dormitories," Liam said, walking toward his parked cycle and swinging his long leg over the seat. The machine chimed a soft note and lifted silently off the pavement with a low, magnetic hum.
"You've had a massive day, Jack. You've learned things most people go their whole lives without knowing. You must be completely exhausted by now, and honestly, I'm pretty tired myself. Let's get you to your room."
Jack walked over and gripped his own handlebars, the cool metal steadying his slightly trembling hands. As he twisted the grip, his cycle vibrated to life with a quiet purr, hovering steadily above the ground.
He took one last, lingering look at the flat rock and the amber, rippling water. The shadow of the Orion Syndicate lingered in his mind, dark and formless, but for the first time since he was kidnapped in Canada, he didn't feel entirely alone.
He leaned forward, smoothly twisting his throttle as he followed Liam's sleek black cycle. They merged onto the main path, gliding silently away from the lake, heading straight toward the safety of the dormitories.