The morning sun rose over Ironclad City High, casting long shadows across the awakening hall. But the light brought no warmth—only scrutiny. Kael Dominus felt it immediately. Every eye in the school was on him. Whispers, sidelong glances, system warnings flashing in muted hues on hovering monitors.
Yesterday's arena chaos had left more than stunned spectators; it had left a trail of questions, and some of them demanded answers. Kael had challenged every expectation: Rank-E commanding without a beast, manipulating the battlefield, and bending authority itself. For some, it was awe. For others… a threat.
Threats that could get you expelled—or worse, Kael reminded himself, stepping through the halls with deliberate calm.
By mid-morning, he was summoned to the Disciplinary Council. The council room was vast, its walls lined with monitors displaying Kael's every action from the arena, system logs, and rank comparisons. A semicircle of senior instructors, adorned in silver crests and rank-one authority badges, awaited him. Their gazes were sharp, measuring, and relentless.
"Dominus", the principal began, voice crisp and controlled, "your actions during the Inter-Academy Trials have raised serious concerns. The system flagged multiple anomalies—unauthorised authority usage, arena disruptions, and interference with higher-ranked students."
Kael's expression remained unreadable. He did not flinch, though every sense in him was alert. Authority pulsed quietly beneath his skin, patient, restrained, yet aware of the scrutiny.
"You are aware", the council continued, "that the consequences for such behaviour may include suspension or permanent expulsion from Ironclad City High?"
Kael's reply was calm and deliberate. "I am aware."
A murmur ran through the council, and the principal's gaze sharpened. "You do not seem concerned. This is not a matter of attitude, Dominus. The system may not have accounted for your actions, but the rules remain."
Kael inclined his head slightly. "Rules are only as effective as those who enforce them. And I do not interfere with enforcement—only with injustice."
The council deliberated for hours. They analysed every movement, every anomaly, every deviation from system expectations. Rank-E was not supposed to influence Rank-A and Rank-One students. The system had no record of Kael's sovereign authority. Logically, he should have been expelled immediately.
Yet the council hesitated. There was something unquantifiable about Kael Dominus. Authority moved around him, subtle, silent, and undeniable. No system could measure it. No rank could define it. And while the council debated, Kael waited, patient, observing, aware of every flicker of hesitation in their eyes.
Finally, the principal spoke. "Dominus… we have decided. You will be suspended, effective immediately. However, your status as a student remains. You are to leave Ironclad City High until the system recalibrates your rank. Any further disruptions will result in permanent expulsion."
The words struck the room like thunder. Students whispered, some relieved, others curious. Kael's expression betrayed nothing, but inside, the Sovereign Authority stirred with restrained satisfaction. The system had acted, but it had underestimated him—again.
Suspension… exile… a chance to learn without oversight, he thought.
Opportunity disguised as punishment.
Kael gathered his belongings quietly, ignoring the stares, the whispers, and the subtle weight of curiosity that followed him down the hallways. As he passed, Rina appeared, concern etched across her features.
"Kael", she said softly, "where are you going? What will happen to you?"
"Temporary leave", he replied. "The council thinks they can contain me with absence. They can't. And neither can the system."
Her eyes softened. "You're not alone, you know."
Kael offered a faint, almost imperceptible smile. Recognition, trust, and quiet solidarity—the kind that did not require system approval.
The train station awaited him, a sleek metallic conduit moving silently between districts. The city passed by outside, familiar and strange, watching him with indifferent eyes. Kael found a seat, alone, and allowed himself a brief moment of thought. Suspension, exile, the system's limits—it was all part of the game. And Kael had always played by his own rules.
Ironclad City may rank power by beasts, by visible authority, or by system approval, he mused.
But none of those measures me.
The train rattled on, taking him to the outer districts—a place of abandoned ruins, deserted streets, and forgotten power. It was a place the system rarely monitored. A place where a sovereign could grow unseen.
He stepped off the train into the deserted metropolis, the shadows long, the streets empty, and silence broken only by distant echoes. Here, Kael could move freely, learn, and understand the depths of his authority without interference.
If the system sees only what it wants, Kael thought, eyes scanning the horizon, then I will teach it to see beyond it.
In the quiet of the ruins, Kael began his exercises. Not with a beast—he had none—but with raw authority. He extended subtle waves of command, observing how matter, energy, and unseen forces responded. Buildings trembled faintly. The wind shifted without cause. Even the few stray animals in the streets obeyed patterns of his will without knowing why.
Hours passed. Days passed. Each movement, each experiment, strengthened the connection between Kael and the Sovereign Authority within him. And yet, patience remained. He did not rush. He did not expose himself. He only observed, learnt, and prepared.
Until the shadows moved.
Figures emerged from the ruins—rogue guild members, scouts, and whispers of the Black Talon network. They circled, measured, and recognised him. Kael did not startle. He had expected them. Authority pulsed subtly, a calm beacon of power beneath the surface.
"You are the one the system cannot see," one of them said, stepping forward. "We've watched. We've waited. Now… we need to know your loyalty."
Kael studied them. Recognition, awareness, patience. Authority does not shout. It observes, tests, and waits.
I answer to no one. Yet I understand all who watch.
The group exchanged glances and subtle nods. They had expected fear. They had expected weakness. Instead, they found calm. Control. Presence.
Kael did not speak. He only allowed the smallest pulse of authority to ripple outward. And that was enough.
By the end of the day, Kael sat atop a ruined skyscraper, overlooking the forgotten city, contemplating the path ahead. Suspension from Ironclad City High was not defeat—it was freedom. The system had underestimated him. Guilds had underestimated him. The world, ranked by beasts and numbers, had underestimated him.
He smiled faintly, a promise to the unseen, to the waiting, and to the city itself.
I am not a beast. I am not your rank. I am the command that the world cannot measure.