Gray walked back to his room in silence. The corridors of the Academy seemed longer at night, stretching endlessly beneath the pale glow of the ceiling lamps. Each step echoed softly against the marble floor, fading into the empty halls behind him. His hands were still cold. Lucian's words clung to his thoughts like smoke that refused to clear.
When he reached his door, he paused for a moment before entering. The faint hum of the Vyre lines in the walls filled the quiet, steady and low like the rhythm of breathing. Inside, his room was dim, a single lamp burning beside his bed. He sat down slowly, running a hand through his hair, and leaned back until he sank into the mattress.
Three days. That was all the time left before they were sent out again. Another expedition. Another hell.
He closed his eyes, breathing out through his nose. The thought of it brought a familiar pressure to his chest. New monsters. New challenges. Another unknown territory effect that could twist their surroundings into something unrecognizable. The memories of Glacierfang were still fresh enough to sting. He had almost died there, more than once. They all had.
He turned his head toward the ceiling, watching the flicker of the lamp against the smooth surface. "Three days," he whispered, as though saying it aloud would somehow make it feel less heavy.
He thought of Lucian again. The way his eyes had shifted to that blood-red hue, the sudden chill that had filled the room. There was no more pretending now. Lucian had made it clear. He was planning to take him out during the expedition. The way he said it, calm and certain, made Gray's stomach twist.
A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "He'll have to get in line," he murmured. Monsters would probably kill him before Lucian got the chance.
Still, he knew Lucian's strength was something not to be taken lightly. His presence carried a kind of weight that reminded Gray of the abyss. His Affinity, whatever it was, had to be powerful. And those eyes… they were not the eyes of an ordinary student.
But what unsettled Gray most wasn't the threat of death. It was Lucian's other words. You're chasing answers you shouldn't. Answers that will kill you.
Gray stared blankly at the ceiling. Dangerous answers. Maybe Lucian was right. But that didn't matter. He had made it this far by refusing to turn away. He would figure it out. All of it. The whispers. The Wither strain. The reason he was given this second life. He wasn't going to die until he understood it all.
His mind drifted to the man above the clouds—the figure he had met in that divine-looking realm. The man who had given him another chance. His voice still echoed faintly in the back of Gray's mind, calm and unreadable. You will find the answers when you're ready.
Gray smiled faintly. "Guess I owe you one," he whispered. "Still not sure if it was a blessing or a curse."
He lay there for a long time, letting his thoughts wander. Sometimes he wondered if any of it was real. If he had just dreamed it all while lying in some hospital bed back in Ironhold. It was hard to believe how much his life had changed.
Just months ago, he had been nothing more than a broke kid, trapped in the slums of a city that never slept. He used to count coins just to buy stale bread, used to stare at the neon glow of Ironhold's skyline and wonder what it would be like to escape. Now here he was, lying in a bed made of silk, in a place so grand it felt unreal. A city built upon clouds, lit by Vyre lines that glowed brighter than the stars.
He smiled quietly to himself. Life had turned into something strange, beautiful, and cruel all at once.
He still didn't know why he was alive, or what he was meant to do. But he was searching for it. That had to mean something.
The warmth of the lamp began to blur at the edge of his vision. His body finally gave in to the exhaustion that had been waiting all day. The last thought that crossed his mind before sleep took him was a quiet one, almost a whisper.
"Thank you," he said to the empty room. "For giving me another chance."
Then everything faded.
***
When Gray opened his eyes again, sunlight was streaming through the curtains. He blinked against the brightness, confused for a moment as to how he had even fallen asleep. His dreams were gone, slipping away before he could catch them.
He sat up, rubbing his face and letting out a slow breath. His room was still, the air fresh but cold. The world outside the window shimmered faintly with morning mist. He pushed himself up, stretched, and left the room.
The corridors were quiet, but the distant hum of conversation echoed faintly from the direction of the canteen. When he entered, the first thing he noticed was how empty it felt. Most of the long tables were deserted. Only a few figures remained.
Renn, Korr, Adel—and Lira, who had finally joined them.
They were seated near the window, sunlight spilling across the table. The air smelled faintly of roasted grain and spiced tea.
Gray walked over, and Renn waved him over eagerly. "Hey, you're finally up! Come sit."
Gray sat down quietly. Adel offered him a bowl, but he shook his head. "Not hungry."
"You should eat," Lira said without looking up from her plate. "We'll need our strength soon."
Gray smiled faintly. "You sound very calm and composed."
"Why wouldn't I be?" Lira replied.
Korr leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "So. Three days, huh?"
"Yeah," Renn said softly. "Three days until we're back out there."
Adel frowned, staring at her food. "I still don't understand why they keep sending us out so soon. We just barely got back."
"It's to test us," Lira said. "The Director said as much. They want to see how we adapt."
Korr scoffed. "Adapt? More like how long we survive."
The words lingered in the air. Gray watched the light shift across the table. None of them wanted to admit how scared they were.
After a long silence, Adel finally spoke again. "Do you think they'll tell us what kind of place it is this time?"
"No," Lira said. "They never do. But there's always a dominant strain in every territory. That much we can guess."
Renn nodded. "Yeah. Glacierfang was Lumen but clearly influenced by the Wither strain. I still dont understand it though...just how did the corruption find itself in a Lumen dominant territory?"
Korr let out a low whistle. "Does it matter? They're both just as bad as each other."
That earned a weak laugh from Adel. Yet no one else.
Adel's expression softened. "Lira," she said quietly, "why did your parents even let you join this? You could have refused, couldn't you?"
Lira froze for a second before answering. "They didn't ask," she said simply. "It's mandatory for all royals to participate in the expeditions. Tradition, they say."
"That's aweful, tradition my ass." Adel muttered.
Lira smiled faintly. "They say it's how we prove our worth. To our people, to our ancestors. To ourselves, maybe."
Gray studied her for a moment. There was a weight behind her words, something she didn't say. Something like resignation.
Korr stretched his arms. "Anyway," he said, breaking the silence. "You all heard about the team setup, right?"
"What setup?" Renn asked.
"Three people per group," Korr replied. "They confirmed it this morning. No exceptions."
Adel nearly dropped her spoon. "Three? That's...insane."
"It's not great," Gray admitted. "Small teams mean less coverage, less defense."
Renn groaned. "So who's our fifth? We are going to be forced into two groups, not ideal."
Korr glanced toward the door. "Our best bet is Aurelle. He just left the canteen."
Gray didn't even hesitate. He stood up. "Then I'll go talk to him."
"Wait, Gray—" Lira started, but he was already walking.
Gray exited the canteen and followed the faint thread of Vyre through the corridors, faint yet distinct, cold and precise like a wire drawn through glass. Aurelle's Vyre always felt that way—detached, razor-sharp, perfectly controlled.
The halls were quieter here, lit by the pale glow of morning that streamed through the windows. His footsteps echoed softly, a steady rhythm against the marble floor. He turned a corner, caught sight of the dark figure ahead, and called out.
"Aurelle!"
No response.
He quickened his pace, reaching out and catching Aurelle's shoulder before he could disappear into the next corridor. The other boy turned, calm and unflinching, his sapphire eyes cool and unreadable. The light hit them just right, making them glimmer like polished crystal.
"What do you want, Gray?"
Gray caught his breath, realizing how fast he had run. "Join us," he said, voice low but firm. "For the expedition."
Aurelle blinked once, slow and deliberate. Then he said, "No."
Gray's jaw tightened. "You didn't even think about it."
"There's nothing to think about," Aurelle said. "I prefer to work alone."
Gray frowned. "This isn't something you can do alone. You know how dangerous these expeditions are. You were there last time—you helped us."
Aurelle's expression didn't change. "I only helped you because you begged me to. Fewer people means fewer idiots that I have to worry about."
The quiet that followed cut through Gray like a blade.
He stared at Aurelle, trying to read something behind those cold words. "You think isolating yourself will make you stronger? Better?"
Aurelle looked away. "It makes it simpler."
Gray stepped closer, lowering his voice. "No, it doesn't. It just makes it emptier."
That made Aurelle pause. He didn't move, but something flickered in his eyes—brief, uncertain.
Gray exhaled softly. "I used to tell myself the same thing," he said. "Back when I was still in Ironhold. I thought I was better off keeping everyone out. That way, no one could disappoint me, no one could leave." He smiled faintly, though it carried no warmth. "Turns out loneliness isn't strength. It's just another kind of weakness we get used to."
Aurelle didn't reply, but his hand tensed at his side. The silence stretched thin between them.
Gray continued, voice quieter now. "You don't have to like us. You don't even have to talk much. Just… don't shut yourself out again. Not when you know what's coming. Whatever this next expedition is, it's not going to be like the last. You know it too, don't you?"
Aurelle's gaze drifted back to him. "You talk like you know what's waiting for us."
"I don't," Gray said honestly. "But I know we won't survive it alone."
For a long time, Aurelle said nothing. He looked at Gray as though studying something fragile he didn't understand. Then, quietly, he asked, "Why me? There are plenty of others you could ask."
Gray's answer came without hesitation. "Because I see myself inside of you, even if it's just a sliver."
That drew a faint twitch from Aurelle's lips—not quite a smile, not quite a frown.
"I'm not the person you think I am, Gray."
"I don't care," Gray said simply.
Aurelle's eyes softened just slightly, though his tone stayed even. "You really don't know what you're asking for."
"Maybe not," Gray admitted. "But it's best to walk into hell with a friend, right?"
That silence again. But this time, it felt different.
Aurelle looked down at the floor, then back up. For the briefest moment, something vulnerable flickered in his eyes—something like exhaustion, or memory.
Finally, he sighed. "Fine," he said. "But on one condition."
He pointed to the nearby wall, where a poster hung—the Tournament of the Academy. The golden letters gleamed beneath the morning light.
"I'll join your group if you enter that tournament after the expedition," Aurelle said. "And win it for me."
Gray frowned. "Win it… for you?"
"Yes." His voice was calm again, but quieter. "There's something the victor gains. Something Important. Something that I want."
Gray thought for a moment, then smiled.
He extended his hand.
"Deal?"
Aurelle hesitated. He looked at Gray's hand for several seconds, as if unsure whether to accept it. "You shouldn't trust me so easily," he said.
He took Gray's hand. His grip was cold but steady.
"Fine," Aurelle said. "You've got yourself a deal."
The sunlight spilling through the window caught them both, washing the corridor in a warm golden hue. Dust floated lazily in the air, glowing in the light.
Gray met his eyes. "We'll make it out of this, you know."
Aurelle gave a faint smile—almost invisible, but there. "We'll see."
Their hands parted slowly. The warmth of the moment lingered between them, fragile and bright. For that brief second, it felt like the world had paused.
Two broken souls standing in the light—each pretending they didn't need it, yet finding it anyway.