The morning fog clung to the Academy grounds like a thin veil, blurring the edges of stone towers and spires. Even in the soft light, the Rift above pulsed faintly, streaks of violet and silver tracing across its jagged surface. The air smelled of ozone and damp stone, and Ren could feel the faint hum beneath his skin—the pulse that had become almost a second heartbeat.
He moved toward the training yard with deliberate steps, trying to ignore the nervous tightening in his chest. Today wasn't just another sparring session. Something about the air told him this day would push him further than any drill or lesson.
Lucien was already there, as always. Hands clasped behind his back, expression calm, uniform impeccable. Public Lucien, golden-boy perfection. But Ren knew the truth lurking beneath the mask—the subtle twitch of shadows at his feet, Eidros coiling faintly like a serpent waiting for the right moment.
Ren's pulse jumped. "You're everywhere," he muttered under his breath. "Do you ever… leave?"
Lucien's storm-gray eyes found his across the yard. Calm. Cordial. And yet… shadows shifted just enough to reply to Ren's teasing tone. "I do when necessary," he said softly, voice carrying only for Ren. "But today… you'll need guidance."
Ren swallowed hard. Guidance. From him. His chest tightened.
The instructors lined the yard, their gazes sharp, hands crossed over combat suits. A special drill had been organized: a controlled Rift breach, designed to simulate an attack and test the Manifested. Ren had been hesitant to join, but there had been no room for hesitation.
A portal shimmered near the edge of the courtyard, jagged and unstable. From it emerged a Rift creature—not the towering hunter-class he'd faced before, but smaller, faster, wiry, its eyes black and intelligent. It slashed at the air, testing the ground as if seeking weakness.
Ren froze. The warmth beneath his skin pulsed like a living thing, alert, insistent.
"You'll be fine," Lucien said quietly, stepping beside him. Shadows slid around the edges of his boots, protective but unobtrusive. "Focus on the pulse. Don't force it. I'll guide you."
Ren clenched his fists, fingers twitching. "Guide me… or babysit me?"
Lucien didn't answer immediately. Just tilted his head, storm-gray eyes assessing, calculating. "Both, if necessary."
Ren's lips twitched. Both, huh? The teasing impulse surged despite the tension. "I see. So… my personal shadowy mentor, then?"
Lucien's mouth twitched faintly, imperceptible to anyone else. "Call it whatever helps you concentrate," he said. And then, almost silently, he added: "Or survive."
The Rift creature lunged. Fast. Sharp. A blur of sinew and teeth.
Ren's heart hammered. Warmth surged, instinctive, reaching toward the nearest injured trainee. But the creature moved faster than expected, striking again and again. Ren stumbled back, gasping, the energy in his hands burning, pulsing, trying to find a connection.
Lucien was there in an instant. Shadows wrapped around the creature like living chains, deflecting claws, absorbing strikes. Eidros flickered, coiling, responsive to both their energies.
"Breathe," Lucien said quietly, low enough only for Ren. "Do not push. Feel it, let it flow. I am here."
Ren's fingers twitched. He hesitated, then let the warmth expand—not outward like a wave, but inward, focused, tethered to the pulse of the wounded, the broken, the hurt. Muscle knit, skin sealed, color returning to cheeks drained by fear.
The Rift creature hissed, recoiling. Shadows tightened around it, Lucien guiding with precise gestures. "Now," Lucien murmured. "Combine. Just once."
Ren exhaled sharply. A single pulse, concentrated, threaded through the shadows, wrapping the Riftbeast in warmth that seared without killing, mending without mercy. The creature shrieked, twisting, then dissolved into Rift mist.
The yard was silent. Students and instructors alike gawked. Lucien's shadow edges retreated, leaving only the golden-boy perfection everyone expected.
Ren staggered back, sweat and Rift energy prickling his skin, heart hammering. He forced himself upright, trying to appear composed.
Lucien stepped closer, just enough that Ren felt the pull of shadows brushing his sleeve, almost protective. "Do not strain yourself further," he said quietly. "You did well."
Ren's throat went dry. He let a teasing edge slip, though his voice trembled slightly: "And here I thought I could impress my personal… shadowy guardian. You know… save the day with style."
Lucien's storm-gray eyes flicked toward him, corner of his mouth twitching faintly, shadows curling like a soft acknowledgment. "Style is irrelevant," he said. Calm, controlled. Public Lucien. And yet… the private edge lingered, just enough for Ren to feel it.
Ren's chest tightened. He noticed. He always notices.
Later, in the empty rooftop yard, Ren flexed his fingers again. The pulse beneath his skin was steady now, warming but not burning. Lucien stood a few feet away, shadows pooling lightly at his boots. Silent, watchful, a presence that was more comfort than intimidation.
"You handled that well," Lucien said softly. "Stronger than I expected."
Ren let a small, mischievous smirk curl his lips. "Stronger than you thought, huh? I'll have to keep proving myself."
Lucien's mouth twitched faintly, almost a smile. "Perhaps," he said. "But remember… every surge has a cost. Learn it, or it will control you."
Ren's pulse thundered. The bond under his ribs hummed, threading tighter, stronger, responsive to Lucien's voice. "I'll keep that in mind," he said quietly. And then, with a teasing glint in his eye, he added: "But… I think I like it when you… guide me."
Lucien's eyes flicked toward him. Shadows shifted subtly. For a heartbeat, private and undeniable, he lingered near. "I am here," he said quietly. And then, almost instantly, the golden-boy façade returned. Cordial. Polished. Untouchable. "Always."
Ren swallowed hard, chest tight, knowing the bond had deepened. That he could no longer hide what stirred beneath his ribs—not the warmth, not the pulse, not the way his heart jumped when Lucien was near.
And somewhere in the distance, beyond the Rift and the world, Xylos watched.