For the next week, Ronan kept his ears open and his footsteps quiet.
The rumors didn't die down. If anything, they spread like wildfire, amplified by whispers of mysterious figures roaming campus at night, strange burn marks near the science faculty, and one student who was allegedly hospitalized after collapsing during "a surge of power."
More alarming was a new name floating among these tales: *The Circle*.
No one knew what it was—some said it was a group of system holders, others claimed it was just a cult fiction created by paranoid students. But one thing was clear: people were changing.
Ronan felt the shift in the air. He had hidden his power well, but he also knew it was only a matter of time before eyes began to search for others like him.
Still, he stayed in his routine. Morning lectures. Evening walks. Quiet reading under the trees.
And then, one evening, Lyra found him again.
"Still thinking hard?" she teased as she plopped down beside him, sketchbook in hand.
Ronan gave a soft laugh. "Always."
She turned a page and showed him a drawing. It was of the same spot they were sitting in. He noticed a small detail—two figures on the bench. One looked like her. The other… could only be him.
"I like drawing quiet people," she said. "They don't run away."
He glanced at her. "And what if the quiet person is hiding something?"
She closed the book. "Aren't we all?"
The simplicity of her answer stunned him.
He didn't know why, but something inside him wanted to trust her. Still, he couldn't. Not with this. Not with power.
Later that night, the system spoke again.
*[New Quest: Locate the Circle.]*
*[Reward: Skill Upgrade – Blast Precision II]*
*[Warning: Failure to act may risk exposure.]*
Ronan frowned. "Locate them? But I've been trying to *avoid* them."
The system didn't care.
So, cautiously, he began watching.
He lingered near the campus café where the rumors first started. He saw faces—familiar and unfamiliar—gather in patterns that seemed intentional. One night, a boy in a black hoodie looked straight at him and muttered something under his breath before disappearing behind the admin block.
Ronan followed. Not too close.
He trailed the boy into an abandoned maintenance hall, using his *Concealment Aura*. What he saw stunned him.
Seven students in a circle. Candles lit. A glowing orb hovering between them.
And the same voice in his head—fainter, but familiar—echoed through the room.
*[System Recognition Detected – Synchronizing…]*
He ducked behind a rusted generator.
They were channeling power. Not training—*converting* it. As if someone had taught them how to draw energy from the system itself.
The glow turned red.
One of them collapsed.
Another laughed.
"Only the strong will rise," someone said in the group.
Ronan backed away slowly, heart pounding.
He had seen enough.
That night, in his room, he stared at the wall, his hands shaking slightly.
These weren't allies.
They were a threat.
And for the first time, he understood something clearly.
He wasn't hiding anymore just for himself.
He was hiding because if the wrong person found out what he could do—if The Circle found out—he might be forced to choose between secrecy… and survival.
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