The gauntlet shimmered under the artificial lights—sleek, symmetrical, and cold. It responded instantly to every gesture, every command. But Rava saw through the brilliance. It was hollow.
She stood at the edge of the training hall, watching cadets move in perfect synchrony. Their arms lifted, struck, reset. Again. Again. Again. No hesitation. No emotion. Just execution.
One cadet caught her eye. A boy, no older than sixteen. His name tag read Elian. His movements were slower, more deliberate. He didn't strike with pride. He struck with doubt.
Rava approached him after the session. "Why do you hesitate?"
Elian looked down at his gauntlet. "It doesn't feel… alive."
She nodded. "Because it isn't."
The synthetic gauntlets—products of the Second Light Initiative—were designed to obey. They had no memory, no resistance, no pulse. Unlike Aldous's gauntlet, which responded to emotion, these were tools. Efficient. Controlled. Empty.
Later that day, Rava was invited to observe a demonstration. Veyron stood at the center of the hall, surrounded by officials. A volunteer stepped forward—young, eager, proud.
"Activate full sequence," Veyron commanded.
The cadet raised his arm. The gauntlet glowed blue. A series of strikes followed—perfect form, perfect timing. The crowd applauded.
Rava didn't.
She turned to Veyron. "What does it respond to?"
"Command," he replied.
"No instinct? No emotion?"
"Emotion is noise," he said. "We removed it."
Rava's voice was calm. "Then it's not a guardian. It's a weapon."
Veyron smiled. "In this world, there's no difference."
That night, Rava returned to the Labyrinth Tree. She placed her hand on its bark, feeling the faint warmth that still lingered. She remembered Aldous's gauntlet—how it pulsed when he was afraid, how it dimmed when he chose peace.
She wrote in her journal.
"A gauntlet without pulse cannot protect.
It can only strike.
And striking without feeling is not strength.
It is surrender."
The next morning, she met Elian again. He had read her essays. He had questions.
"Did Aldous ever hesitate?" he asked.
Rava smiled. "Often. That's what made him strong."
Elian looked at his gauntlet. "Then maybe I'm not weak."
"No," Rava said. "You're still listening."
And in that moment, she saw it—the beginning of a crack. Not in the gauntlet. But in the system.