Eleven months passed.
They didn't pass gently.
They passed in bloodless alleys, silent Rifts, and sleepless nights.
By the time winter gave way to early spring, he had cleared more than fifty low- and medium-tier outbreaks for the Night Sweepers. His movements were sharper. His reactions faster. His body no longer felt fragile.
He was still sixteen.
But he no longer felt like a child.
Every morning began the same.
He woke before sunrise.
Ran through empty streets.
Did strength drills in abandoned lots.
Then practiced control—sitting still, eyes closed, reaching inward.
The presence inside him was no longer foreign.
It had become familiar.
Quiet.
Patient.
He didn't let it grow freely. He learned restraint. Learned how to pull back before it surfaced. Learned how to fight using only his body when necessary.
He had to.
At the academy, any abnormal fluctuation could expose him.
So he trained like a normal human.
And killed like something else.
That afternoon, he stood in front of the mirror in his small apartment.
His frame had filled out slightly. His eyes looked calmer. Harder.
He barely recognized himself anymore.
On the table beside him sat a plain academy uniform.
No markings.
No rank.
Just fabric.
Two days.
In two days, he would walk back through those gates.
Back into the system that had labeled him Unawakened.
Back among students who believed power only came from Universe Energy.
He exhaled slowly.
"I'll stay invisible," he whispered.
No displays.
No strange movements.
No unnecessary kills.
Just enough to survive.
Just enough to pass.
Later that evening, Raven contacted him.
Her voice came through the communicator, as cool as ever.
"Academy enrollment starts in forty-eight hours."
"I know."
"You'll stop active missions once you enter."
He frowned. "And the Rifts?"
"We'll handle them with other Sweepers."
A pause.
"Your job changes."
He waited.
"You're going inside their world now," Raven continued. "Observe. Learn. Identify promising Awakened."
"And?"
"And watch for anything unusual."
He understood what she really meant.
Watch for people like him.
"Don't draw attention," she added. "No solo heroics."
He gave a quiet acknowledgment.
Before the call ended, Raven spoke again.
"Remember. If scanners ever detect something abnormal—"
"I disappear," he finished.
"Yes."
The line went dead.
That night, he stood on the rooftop of his building, looking toward the distant glow of the upper district.
The academy was somewhere beyond those lights.
He thought of his uncle.
Of the alley.
Of the first monster he killed alone.
So much had changed.
And yet, this moment felt heavier than any mission.
He closed his eyes.
"I'm not going there to prove myself," he said quietly.
"I'm going to learn."
He opened them again.
"And when the Rifts come…"
His fists tightened.
"I'll be ready."