The Academy's training yard smelled of ozone and scorched stone. Students moved with urgency, shadows and energy flickering around them as instructors barked orders. The Rift above pulsed faintly, ominously, as if aware of the disturbance that had yet to fully reveal itself.
Ren tightened his grip on his satchel strap, chest pounding with anticipation and nerves. The warmth beneath his skin pulsed faintly, alive, aware. Today's test wouldn't be controlled simulations. Today, the Outworld would push them—and him—to the edge.
Lucien appeared at his side, silent, shadows at his boots twisting like living ink. Public Lucien: calm, composed, untouchable. Private Lucien: the thread that always reached for Ren's pulse, guiding, tethering, protective.
"You feel it," Lucien said softly, just for him, eyes flicking toward the western barrier. "Something more intelligent than yesterday. Be prepared."
Ren swallowed, smirking faintly despite the tension. "Lucky me… my own shadowy guide, again."
Lucien's storm-gray eyes flicked toward him, corners of his mouth twitching faintly. "Do not mistake guidance for babysitting."
A ripple of Rift energy tore through the barrier. Unlike the previous agent, this one moved with deliberate intelligence. Humanoid, but with elongated limbs and a face like fractured glass. Its black eyes scanned the yard, calculating, searching—not just for students, but for weaknesses, for opportunities.
Ren's pulse flared involuntarily, sensing the fear and pain of nearby students. He exhaled sharply, letting the warmth flow outward, but this time the energy felt heavier, more resistant. Every fiber of his being pulsed in rhythm with the threat, and he realized that this agent was different—it tested not only reflexes but the limits of control.
Lucien stepped closer, shadows curling protectively around Ren. "Do not force it," he murmured. "Control, precision. I am beside you."
Ren's hands shook slightly. "You really enjoy hovering, don't you?"
"Always where you need me," Lucien replied, storm-gray eyes steady, shadows responding to Ren's pulse and the agent's energy alike.
The agent struck. Fast. Too fast. Ren's pulse surged instinctively, flowing toward the nearest injured student, knitting wounds and easing shock—but the strain hit immediately. His chest burned, muscles trembling, energy thundering like a storm beneath his skin.
"Too much," Lucien said sharply, stepping forward. Shadows swept around the agent, deflecting blows aimed at Ren while maintaining a tether of control over the pulse. "Breathe. Anchor your energy. Let it flow through you, not overwhelm you."
Ren exhaled sharply, teeth gritted. He focused, threading his warmth into the shadows, combining precision and empathy. The agent shrieked, faltering as Ren's pulse seared without killing, guided perfectly by Lucien's shadow tether.
"You're improving," Lucien murmured, just enough for Ren to hear. "Faster control. Stronger application. But feel the cost. Do not ignore it."
Ren smirked faintly, despite the pounding of his heart. "Noted… mostly."
Lucien's mouth twitched. "Mostly is dangerous."
The battle escalated. The agent adjusted, sensing the bond between Ren and Lucien. It attacked with calculated precision, testing their reactions, probing for weaknesses. Ren's pulse flared again, threading into the shadows, mending wounds, dispersing energy, holding back chaos. His muscles screamed, his chest ached, but Lucien remained beside him—tethering, guiding, protecting.
Finally, with a coordinated surge, Lucien's shadows enveloped the agent while Ren's pulse struck at its core. The creature convulsed, energy flaring, then dissolved into Rift mist. Silence fell over the yard, heavy, tense, charged with residual Rift energy.
Ren sank to his knees, chest heaving, sweat prickling his brow. Lucien stepped beside him, shadows receding, hands steady.
"You held your pulse under pressure," Lucien said quietly. "Controlled fear, healed, defended, and endured. Few could manage that with such precision."
Ren forced himself upright, smirking faintly despite exhaustion. "And here I thought I was just… improvising."
Lucien's storm-gray eyes lingered on him, private acknowledgment threading between them. "Improvisation with skill is still skill," he said. Shadows curled lightly at his boots, protective, responsive. "But every surge has a cost. Learn it. Or it will control you."
Ren's pulse thrummed under his skin. He swallowed, teasing despite the weight of the day. "Well… I like having someone nearby to… keep me in line."
Lucien's lips twitched faintly, shadows curling like a soft acknowledgment. "I will always be here," he said quietly. Public Lucien, polished. Private Lucien… everything Ren wanted and needed to feel.
Above, the Rift pulsed, watching. Xylos' shadow lingered just beyond sight. The Academy had survived another day—but the real trials were only beginning.