Morning at Ironclad City High came like a blade slicing through fog. The sky was pale, clouds strewn like broken glass across the horizon, and the city buzzed with its usual rhythm—students rushing to class, instructors walking with purpose, and ranks displayed like trophies in every hallway.
Kael Dominus moved quietly through the corridors, mop in hand, performing his Rank-E duties with mechanical precision. Every sweep, every step, every echo of movement felt heavier than usual. The whispers from yesterday still lingered, subtle but unavoidable.
"Did you hear?" someone muttered as he passed."He calmed the rogue beast… without a beast of his own."
Kael ignored it. He had learnt early: words were harmless if you didn't let them pierce you. But the pressure inside him reminded him of something far more important than whispers. Something watching. Waiting.
The Sovereign Interface remained faint at the edge of his vision. No notifications. No alerts. Only presence. Patient, measured, aware.
Recognition Threshold: Increasing
By mid-morning, Kael found himself in the medical wing. A routine assignment—transporting supplies, assisting nurses with paperwork. He was about to turn a corner when a voice stopped him.
"Kael?"
He froze. The voice was soft but clear. Delicate. Almost musical.
He turned.
There she was. A girl from Class Seven—Rina Veyra. Her hair cascaded in chestnut waves, her eyes were sharp yet cautious, and a faint scar ran across her left cheek, a mark no one noticed except him. She held a tray of medical supplies, and her posture was rigid, almost defensive.
"You're… Rank-E, right?" she asked, tilting her head.
Kael didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied her carefully. The scar, the cautious tone, the way she held herself—it was unusual for someone so composed to approach a Rank-E alone.
"Yes," he said finally. "And you are?"
"Rina Veyra," she replied. "Class Seven. I… I wanted to see if you were really the one who calmed the rogue beast yesterday."
Kael's chest tightened slightly. Recognition. Authority. Observation. She had noticed.
"Does it matter?" he asked.
Rina paused, frowning. "It matters to people like me. To understand what… what's happening."
The air between them was quiet. Not awkward, not tense—curious. Both aware of the invisible wall separating them from the rest of the school, yet strangely connected through it.
Hours later, Kael found himself assigned to night patrol. It was part of the auxiliary schedule: cleaning, repairing, and overseeing the perimeter of the campus. Most students dreaded it. Kael didn't.
He moved silently along the moonlit corridors, the weight of the Sovereign presence settling comfortably inside him. The city below slept, unaware of the subtle tremors of authority passing through its foundations.
Then he saw her again. Rina.
She was standing near the fountain, alone. Hands clasped behind her back, eyes scanning the shadows. When she noticed him, she smiled faintly.
"You're always working," she said softly.
Kael shrugged. "Rank-E duties."
"Most Rank-Es are invisible," she replied, stepping closer. "You… aren't."
Something in her voice struck him. Not admiration. Not fear. Recognition. She saw beyond the numbers, beyond the system, beyond the laughter.
Kael didn't respond. He simply watched her. She tilted her head, studying him as if trying to measure what could not be measured.
Why do you see me? he thought.
And then, almost imperceptibly, she whispered, "It's like the system doesn't matter to you."
He didn't answer. He didn't need to. The thought echoed in his mind, a silent acknowledgement of something greater.
That night, as the patrol ended and Kael returned to his dorm, the Sovereign Interface pulsed faintly. A soft shimmer of silver appeared, edges glowing against the darkness of his vision.
Directive Update: Observation Recommended
Kael exhaled slowly. He didn't need a command. He knew. The city, the school, the students—they were all pieces of a larger game. The system measured everything, yet it could not measure him. It had never seen a Rank-E like him before.
And yet, the presence inside him was patient. Calm. Watching.
He thought of the rogue beast, of yesterday, of the way it had obeyed without question. And he thought of Rina, of the recognition in her eyes—the same understanding, almost accidental, almost intuitive.
Recognition… authority… both obey without being forced.
A quiet smile tugged at his lips.
The following day brought whispers, rumours, and cautious glances. Students avoided him in hallways, instructors studied him from afar, and screens flickered with incomplete system data. Some faculty members even questioned the legality of his Rank-E status again.
Kael ignored it all. He focused instead on observation—watching, learning, understanding.
During lunch, Rina appeared beside him. She slid a small notebook across the table.
"Thought you might need this," she said. "Notes from Beast Theory class… it's more useful than the lecture."
Kael glanced at it. Holographic scribbles, diagrams, and annotations about beast hierarchy and authority manipulation. He accepted it silently, no words necessary. The gesture alone conveyed understanding.
"Why are you helping me?" he asked softly.
Her eyes met his. "Because I can. Because I want to understand."
There was no pride in her voice, no judgement. Only curiosity. Only recognition.
Kael looked down at the notebook, then back at her. And for the first time in weeks, he felt… lighter.
Night fell again. Kael lay in his bed, the room dark except for the faint glow of the city beyond the window. The Sovereign Interface shimmered faintly, quiet and patient.
He thought about Rina, about yesterday's rogue beast, and about the whispers in the hallways.
The world ranks power by beasts…
And yet, here he was. Rank-E. No beast. No system approval.
And yet… I command.
The pressure within him pulsed softly, as if in agreement. Waiting. Patient.
Kael closed his eyes.
Tomorrow… we find out how far this can go.