The late afternoon sun painted the Academy's stone spires gold, but the warmth did little to calm the tension threaded through the grounds. Reports of Rift disturbances had multiplied, faint tremors of energy pulsing through walls, floors, and the air itself.
Ren walked toward the practice yard, satchel slung carelessly, trying to keep his expression neutral. The warmth beneath his skin throbbed faintly—an insistent pulse, aware of the unrest beyond the Academy walls. Today would not be just another drill.
Lucien was waiting, leaning against the railing at the rooftop practice area. Public Lucien: perfect posture, calm expression, everything the students expected. But shadows coiled lightly at his boots, responding to Ren's presence and the ripple of Rift energy around them.
"You feel it too," Lucien said softly, eyes flicking toward the jagged Rift above.
Ren exhaled sharply. "Yeah… something's coming."
"Be ready," Lucien said. "I'll be beside you. Do not stray from the pulse."
Ren smirked faintly, teasing in spite of the tension. "My very own shadowy guide, huh? Lucky me."
Lucien's eyes flickered, corner of his mouth twitching. "You're lucky if you survive without following instructions."
The signal came suddenly—a flare of violet energy at the western barrier. A Rift breach shimmered violently, unstable, jagged edges slicing through the calm of the Academy grounds.
From it emerged the agent: sleek, humanoid in shape but corrupted, eyes black and glowing faintly with Riftlight. Its presence radiated malice, power laced with cunning. It moved with preternatural speed, cutting toward a group of students on patrol.
Ren's pulse surged. The warmth beneath his skin reacted instantly to the wounded, the frightened. Muscles tensed, energy flowing outward—but his hands shook. He had never tried to channel his pulse this aggressively in combat before.
"Ren!" Lucien's voice was low, sharp, guiding. Shadows coiled around the Rift agent, forcing it to hesitate. "Focus on the pulse. Control, not instinct. I am here."
Ren swallowed hard, centering himself. Breath in, breath out. The warmth pulsed, threading through the shadows, reaching toward the wounded students. Cuts sealed, bruises eased, pain dimmed—but the agent retaliated, striking toward Ren with impossible speed.
Lucien intercepted, shadow edges wrapping around his arms, deflecting the blow. "Do not overextend," he murmured, close enough for Ren to feel the warmth of his presence, the pull of Eidros coiling in tandem with Ren's pulse. "I will not let you fall."
Ren exhaled sharply, letting the energy flow through his hands, guiding it carefully into the agent. Sparks of Rift energy flared as his pulse clashed with its corruption, searing without killing. Sweat pricked his brow; the exertion was intense.
"You're doing well," Lucien said softly. "But maintain your tether. Do not let the pulse run wild."
Ren forced a small smirk. "Always my bodyguard, huh?"
Lucien's storm-gray eyes flicked toward him, shadows tightening just slightly. "Always," he said quietly. Cordial for anyone else. Private acknowledgment for Ren alone.
The agent screeched, faltering under the combined assault of Ren's pulse and Lucien's shadows. With one precise move, Lucien sent it flailing back into the Rift portal, which shimmered and collapsed. Silence returned, the yard heavy with the residue of Rift energy.
Ren sank to one knee, chest heaving, hands still tingling with residual warmth. Lucien stepped beside him, shadows retreating just enough to let him breathe, his calm demeanor unwavering.
"You managed your pulse under real combat," Lucien said softly. "You healed, defended, and controlled. Few could do that on their first direct engagement."
Ren tried to stand straight, brushing off the exertion. "And here I thought I was just… improvising."
Lucien's mouth twitched faintly. "Improvisation with skill is still skill," he said. "But know this—your pulse drains more than energy. Your body will remind you if you push too far."
Ren flexed his hands, feeling the subtle ache creeping into his chest. "Noted. Mostly."
Lucien's storm-gray eyes lingered, shadows coiling faintly. "Mostly is not enough when the Outworld tests you again."
Ren's pulse quickened—not from Rift energy, but from the proximity, the attention, the unspoken bond threading tighter between them. He swallowed, forcing a teasing edge into his voice. "Well… I do like having someone nearby to… keep me in line."
Lucien's lips twitched faintly, just enough for Ren to see, then the shadows tightened around him in a protective sweep. "I will always be here," he said quietly. Public Lucien. Polished. Cordial. Private Lucien… everything Ren needed and wanted to see.
And as the Rift pulsed above, silent but watching, Ren realized the world was changing faster than he had anticipated. The Outworld's agents were coming. The trials were only beginning.
And he would not face them alone.