The air felt heavier than usual, like the world itself was holding its breath. After what Ronan saw in the abandoned hall—The Circle, the ritual, the terrifying release of corrupted energy—his mind hadn't rested for a moment. And then there was Lyra.
She had been there. Watching.
Not interfering. Not panicking.
Just... there.
And now, that changed everything.
The next day, he didn't wait for her to find him.
He found her first.
She was sitting at their usual bench near the back of the library, the sun barely piercing through the cloudy sky above them. Her sketchpad rested in her lap, and her pencil moved with focused precision. She didn't notice him at first.
Or maybe she did, and just didn't care to show it.
Ronan sat beside her without a word. She didn't look up.
"You were there last night."
"I know."
He paused. "Why?"
Finally, she stopped sketching and met his gaze. Her eyes, normally soft with curiosity, were sharp. Not hostile—just alert. "Why were *you* there?"
"I asked first."
She tilted her head. "I was just watching. That group's been gathering at night. I wanted to know what they're doing. I didn't expect to see you there, though."
Ronan didn't answer. He studied her face, but she didn't look like someone who had power. No glow, no pressure, no energy signature that his system usually detected from distortions. She wasn't hiding power.
She simply *didn't have any.*
"You've been tracking them?" he asked finally.
"Not actively. Just noticed things. People acting strange. Some of my classmates—one of them collapsed in class after muttering something about a 'great awakening.' Another said they hear voices at night. It's like a sickness, and no one's talking about it."
Ronan's jaw tightened. She was right. The Circle wasn't just experimenting—they were spreading something. Something unnatural.
"And you?" she asked. "You just happened to be nearby?"
"No," he replied. "I've been watching them too."
"So, we're both nosy."
He looked away. "Not exactly."
She frowned, sensing the tension. "You know more than you're saying."
He stayed quiet.
Lyra closed her sketchpad and stood. "You're scared. Not of them—but of being known. You carry something, Ronan. I don't know what, but it's heavy."
He stood, facing her. "Then stop digging."
"I'm not digging," she said calmly. "I'm trying to understand. Because whatever's happening—whatever that group is doing—it's getting worse. And you're the only person I've seen who doesn't look surprised by it."
He didn't answer. His silence was confirmation.
She sighed and stepped back. "You don't have to trust me. But you're not invisible. And whatever you're hiding... be careful. Some things break when you carry them alone."
With that, she turned and walked away.
---
That night, Ronan sat on his bed in the dark, staring at the glowing system panel before him.
*[User Status: Stable]*
*[Energy: 118/200]*
*[Blast: Lv. 3 | Concealment Aura: Lv. 2 | Observation: Lv. 1]*
*[Active Quests: Track the Circle – 50% Complete]*
He had power. But power wasn't the hard part.
Control was.
Secrecy was.
And now, Lyra—*ordinary, perceptive, dangerously honest* Lyra—was close to stumbling into a world she had no part in.
He couldn't allow that. The system was his alone. And the Seiko—whoever they were—were still out there. Watching.
Ronan lay back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
He would keep his secret.
Even if it meant pushing Lyra away.
Even if it meant standing alone.
Because this wasn't a story about heroes.
It was about surviving the unseen war before it broke into the open.
And Ronan was the only one equipped to fight it.
---