Kael sat alone in the courtyard as twilight swallowed the last warmth of the sun. The cracked stone beneath him still radiated a faint heat, but the air had cooled, sharpened. Around him, the training field was empty save for the flicker of lanterns swaying with the evening wind.
He watched the stars begin to puncture the veil above—silent, eternal. For the first time in years, he didn't envy their stillness.
Today had changed everything.
Not because he had awakened power. But because now, they knew.
Kael reached inside his robes and withdrew the slip of paper tucked against his chest. A standard cultivation transcript, stamped and sealed by the Examination Council. He opened it with the same hesitation he had felt a dozen times already.
"Tier: Undefined."
It wasn't a rank. It wasn't even a disqualification. It was a statement that he did not fit anywhere.
No reaction to the devices. No measurable qi signature. And yet, the assessor had stared at him with narrowed eyes, then simply nodded, as if the results confirmed a private suspicion.
He remembered the exact words:
"There's something coiled in you, Saran. Something the system refuses to name."
At first, Kael thought it was pity. Now, he wasn't so sure.
Footsteps approached from the rear archway. Not soft ones. Not cautious.
"Kael."
It was Misa.
He turned without speaking. She wore her academy uniform still, though the sash hung loose and her braid was half undone. She looked like she'd been running through decisions too long and too fast.
"You didn't come to the announcement hall," she said.
"I didn't need to."
Misa folded her arms. "The others are saying you bribed the assessor. That you tampered with the device. That you're playing sick to avoid public failure."
Kael stood. "Did you come to say that too?"
"No." Her voice lowered. "I came to ask what really happened."
He hesitated.
The seed inside him—the presence, the pulse—had grown louder since the exam. It whispered in his sleep, flared in his thoughts. It was not destructive, but it was alive.
And he wasn't ready to tell anyone. Not even her.
"I failed," Kael said. "That's all there is."
Misa stepped closer. "You know that's not true."
He held her gaze.
And then she did something unexpected—something that threw him off balance more than any insult would have.
She placed her palm gently on his chest, right over the place where the ancient seed had first stirred.
"I felt it," she said quietly. "Back at the ranking hall. When you touched the relic stone. Something responded."
Kael's breath hitched.
"I thought it was just a trick of the light," she continued. "But… it felt like the air shook. Like everything paused for a beat."
He stepped back. "You're imagining things."
"I'm not." Her hand dropped, but her eyes didn't waver. "There's something happening to you. And if you don't figure it out soon, Kael… others will."
A long silence stretched between them.
Then she turned and walked away, leaving him with the paper, the silence, and the stars.
But now, even the stars felt like they were watching him back.