Night at Asterin did not bring silence.
It brought whispers.
James stood at the balcony of his assigned residence, overlooking the lower platforms of the Academy city. Lights flickered across bridges. Shadows moved where they shouldn't.
This place never slept.
It watched.
"You feel it," the voice inside him murmured.
"Yes."
"Predators."
James' fingers rested lightly on the silver pendant Elia had given him. The Vault calmed slightly.
Then—
Something changed.
The air shifted.
Not magically.
Instinctively.
Students on nearby walkways slowed.
Conversations died mid-sentence.
Laughter cut off.
Even the night wind seemed to hesitate.
James' gaze lifted.
A figure walked alone across the highest bridge.
No guards.
No escort.
No insignia.
A third-year uniform — black trimmed with silver.
Long coat.
Loose posture.
Hands in pockets.
Brown hair slightly unkempt.
Nothing about him looked imposing.
And yet—
Every Desire Core James could see…
Dimmed.
Like candles before a storm.
"What is that?" James asked internally.
The voice answered slower than usual.
"…A singularity."
James narrowed his eyes.
The man stopped at the edge of the bridge and leaned casually against the railing, looking down at the city.
Then—
He turned his head.
And looked directly at James.
Not searching.
Not scanning.
Direct.
As if he had always known James was there.
The Vault screamed.
Not hunger.
Warning.
James' breath slowed instinctively.
The man smiled faintly.
Not mocking.
Not threatening.
Amused.
Then he raised one hand—
And waved.
James did not move.
Did not react.
Did not bow.
Good.
The man nodded once, approvingly.
Then continued walking.
The pressure lifted immediately.
Students resumed breathing.
Someone nearby whispered shakily—
"…That was him."
"Who?" another asked.
"The one above the rankings."
James turned slightly.
"Explain."
The student swallowed.
"That's Lucien."
A pause.
"Third-year."
Another pause.
"…Undefeated."
James' eyes sharpened.
"Rank?"
The student laughed nervously.
"There is no rank for him."
James watched the empty bridge.
"Why?"
The student hesitated.
"Because he already broke the system."
Interesting.
"Tell me everything."
The student lowered his voice.
"They say Lucien entered as a nobody. No royal blood. No title. No backing."
James listened.
"He climbed the rankings in a month."
The Vault pulsed faintly.
"He defeated heirs. Prodigies. Assassins."
James' interest sharpened.
"And the instructors?"
The student hesitated longer.
"They stopped testing him."
James finally turned fully.
"Why?"
The student met his eyes.
"Because the last time they did…"
"…he killed the examiner."
Silence.
James felt it.
Lucien's Desire Core.
Not bright.
Not dark.
Not chaotic.
Empty.
No hunger.
No ambition.
No pride.
A void.
"What is his desire?" James asked internally.
The voice was quiet.
"…None."
James exhaled slowly.
A man without desire.
That was impossible.
Desire was power.
Unless—
He looked toward the Grand Arena.
Unless Lucien had already consumed his own.
A chill crawled up his spine.
Not fear.
Recognition.
That man was not a rival.
Not yet.
He was a ceiling.
And James hated ceilings.
From another balcony—
Seraphine Varhen stood watching the same empty bridge.
Her fists were clenched.
Her Pride burned sharply.
She hated one thing more than failure.
Being ignored.
And Lucien had ignored everyone.
Including her.
James turned back into his room.
Closed the doors.
Locked them.
The Infinite Vault churned.
Hungry.
Curious.
Calculating.
"A man without desire…" James murmured.
The voice answered softly:
"Is either free."
A pause.
"Or finished."
James smiled faintly.
"Then I'll be the one to find out which."
Outside—
Asterin waited.
Above—
The one who had broken the system walked alone.
And below—
A Greedy Prince began planning how to consume the impossible.