Corren had been threatened with eviction, dragged across the city, and deposited in front of the most elite academy in the Empire, all before breakfast.
The gates of Astralis Academy loomed before him: black iron worked with gold, inscribed with words he'd only ever read in books. "Only the worthy endure."
He tugged at his factory uniform. Oil stains on the cuffs. The fabric reeked of yesterday's humiliation and this morning's desperation.
"This is insane," he muttered.
Lyra's eyes stayed fixed on the gates. "You say that a lot."
"Because I do a lot of insane things."
"Then what's one more?"
Before he could answer, a sleek black car rolled up to the entrance. The door opened, and Darius stepped out, dressed in crimson robes embroidered with the Flamesworn sigil. Even his posture radiated superiority, shoulders back, chin high, like the world owed him its attention.
His gaze swept over the crowd of hopefuls, then landed on Corren.
He grinned. "Lyra. I see you brought your charity case."
"Corren's taking the trial," Lyra said, not missing a beat.
Darius's grin faltered. "You're joking."
"Do I joke?"
His eyes slid to Corren, the oil-stained uniform, the Fragile Veil barely shimmering at his edges like dying embers. The grin returned, sharper. "Well. This'll be entertaining."
Corren forced a crooked smile. "I live to amuse."
Darius brushed past him, trailing heat. "Try not to break before the first test. I'd hate to miss the show."
Lyra's hand found Corren's wrist. "Ignore him."
"I'm trying. It's not working."
They followed the stream of initiates through the gates and into the Grand Hall, a cathedral of stone and steel that could've swallowed Corren's entire district. Chandeliers of crystallized Veil energy hung from vaulted ceilings, casting fractured light across over a thousand faces. Some looked barely sixteen, fresh from their Awakenings. Others were older, nineteen or twenty, veterans of smaller academies hoping to rise higher. Nobles clustered in groups, their Veils already visible: shimmering auras of flame, ice, metal, light. Commoners huddled at the edges, trying to look confident and failing.
Corren felt every eye that landed on him. The Fragile. The one who shouldn't be here.
A voice cut through the murmurs, resonant and absolute.
"Welcome to Astralis Academy."
The crowd fell silent.
A man stepped onto the stage at the far end of the hall. Tall, broad-shouldered, with silver hair swept back and sharp eyes that seemed to catalogue everyone in an instant. His presence filled the space like a drawn blade.
Corren recognized him immediately. Gladius. The youngest person to ever achieve an Absolute-grade Veil. The man who'd single-handedly cleared a Chaos-class Rift five years ago. Every Veil user in the Empire knew his name.
"I am Gladius," he said. His voice didn't rise, but it carried. "Veil Theory specialist. And for the next hour, the man who will decide whether you belong here."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"Yesterday, some of you Awakened your Veils. Others Awakened years ago and have been honing your craft. Some of you discovered strength. Others discovered… limits." His gaze swept the room, lingering just a fraction longer on the commoners. "Today, you will learn that your Veil is not your destiny. It is your starting point. What you do with it, how you refine it, master it, weaponize it, that is what separates the worthy from the weak."
Corren's jaw tightened. Easy for him to say. He wasn't Fragile.
"This trial has three phases," Gladius continued. "A written exam on Veil Theory. A test of physical aptitude. And finally, survival in a controlled Rift." He smiled, cold and sharp. "But we'll begin with a filter. Call it… an appetizer."
He raised his hand.
"Do not panic. Those who fail will simply find themselves outside the gates. Your bodies are perfectly safe. This is merely a test of your Veil's integrity."
His Veil flared to life, pure, crystalline light that refracted into a thousand colors. The air hummed. Reality bent.
Corren's stomach lurched.
The walls folded inward. The ceiling collapsed into impossible geometry. The floor beneath his feet felt like it was falling and rising at the same time.
The light intensified. Lyra stepped away from him, her metallic Veil gleaming like polished steel. The brilliance reflected off her aura, doubling back toward Corren in a wave of searing radiance.
He gasped as the redirected light slammed into him.
And then the people around him, hundreds of hopefuls, vanished.
Not faded. Not dimmed. Erased, as if they'd never existed.
Corren staggered, gasping. His Veil flickered at his skin, weak and cracked. The light burned against the fractures, trying to tear through.
But then the fractures opened.
Light poured into the gaps, drinking in Gladius's power like a sieve swallowing water. The glow didn't strengthen his Veil. It passed through him, diffusing into the air in pale threads that bled away into nothing.
He looked around, panicked. The hall had shrunk. Where there had been over a thousand, now there were maybe two hundred and fifty.
Lyra stood several feet away now, her metallic Veil still gleaming. Darius remained near the front, his flame Veil burning steady. Clusters of nobles. A handful of terrified commoners.
And Corren.
"Interesting," Gladius said, his gaze sweeping the survivors. "I tuned that to eliminate anyone with a Veil below B-grade. Efficient, wouldn't you say?"
Murmurs rippled through the remaining students.
Gladius's eyes found Corren. Lingered. Then moved on without comment.
But the damage was done.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
"How did he survive?"
"His Veil's Fragile. I saw it at the ceremony."
"Gladius said B-grade minimum…"
"Maybe it was a mistake."
Corren stood frozen, his Veil still glowing faintly with residual light from Gladius's ability. He could feel the stares drilling into him. The confusion. The suspicion.
Darius turned, his expression caught between disbelief and irritation. Lyra glanced back at him, her eyes thoughtful.
Gladius raised his hand again, and the murmurs died.
"Congratulations," he said, his tone flat. "You've passed the first filter. Whether by strength, luck, or…" His gaze flicked to Corren for half a heartbeat. "...anomaly. It doesn't matter. You're still here. That means you're worth testing."
He gestured toward the doors at the back of the hall. "The written exam begins in ten minutes. I suggest you prepare. Failure is still very much an option."
The crowd began to move, shuffling toward the exam hall. Corren didn't move. His legs felt like lead.
Lyra appeared at his side. "What just happened?"
Corren shook his head. "I don't know."
"Your Veil..."
"I don't know," he repeated, sharper than he meant to. He forced a breath. "It… reacted. To his ability. I felt it drink the light. But I don't know why."
"When I stepped away..." Lyra's voice was careful. "My Veil reflected his light back at you. You should've been hit twice as hard. You should've been eliminated first."
Corren stared at her. "What?"
"But instead, your Veil just… absorbed it all." She studied him for a long moment. Then she nodded. "Figure it out later. Right now, you need to pass that exam."
"Right." Corren swallowed. "The exam. Easy."
"You worked at the Record Hall for two years. You know theory better than half these nobles."
"Theory doesn't help if they think I cheated."
"Then don't give them a reason to think that." She started toward the doors, then paused. "And Corren?"
"Yeah?"
"Whatever your Veil is… it's not Fragile. Don't let them convince you otherwise."
She walked away before he could respond.
Corren stood alone in the emptying hall, his Veil still flickering faintly at his edges. Around him, the fractures pulsed like cracks in glass.
And through those cracks, for just an instant, he felt it again.
That place. Waiting in the dark.
He clenched his fists and followed the others toward the exam hall.