Ishara Veyl knew something was wrong before anyone said a word.

The Citadel didn’t change its schedule.
No alarms rang.
No orders were revised.

And yet—

The air felt tighter.

She noticed it during morning drills, when her Shuryoku refused to settle into its usual rhythm. Every breath felt slightly delayed, like the world itself was hesitating.

She paused mid-motion.

That hesitation cost her half a step.

Someone else might have ignored it.

Ishara didn’t.

She straightened, eyes scanning the hall. Cadets moved as usual. Instructors spoke in calm tones. Nothing looked different.

But something had arrived.

She finished the drill without error, dismissed herself cleanly, and walked the outer corridor that overlooked the Citadel’s upper levels. From there, she could see most of the rooftops.

She didn’t know why her gaze stopped where it did.

But it did.

Royushi Kairo wasn’t there.

That alone wasn’t strange.

What was strange was the faint echo she felt—like pressure had passed through and left an afterimage behind.

She closed her eyes and breathed.

Focus, she told herself.
What changed?

The answer came uninvited.

He’s been spoken to.

The realization landed fully formed, without logic or proof. Ishara hated when that happened. Intuition was unreliable. Feelings made poor evidence.

Still—she trusted them more than silence.

She found Royushi near the lower stairwell later that day, sitting on the railing, a bottle of water balanced loosely in one hand. He looked… off.

Not shaken.

Not panicked.

Decided.

That scared her more.

“Hey,” she said.

Royushi looked up, startled, then relaxed. “Oh. Hey.”

“You skipped drills,” she said.

“I did,” he replied.

She waited.

“…I needed air,” he added.

“That’s a lie,” Ishara said calmly.

He smiled weakly. “Yeah.”

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Someone spoke to you.”

Royushi froze.

Just for a second.

It was enough.

“…Who?” he asked.

She met his eyes. “That’s my question.”

He hesitated.

Behind his gaze, something flickered—memory, tension, a choice still settling.

“Someone who knew my name,” Royushi said.

Ishara’s jaw tightened.

“Did they threaten you?”

“No.”

“Did they offer you something?”

“…Yes.”

That was worse.

She crossed her arms, posture sharp now. “And you didn’t tell anyone.”

“I’m telling you,” Royushi said quietly.

She studied his face. He wasn’t hiding. He was… sorting.

“Was it Sevran Axiom?” she asked.

Royushi blinked. “You know that name?”

“Everyone important does,” Ishara said. “They just pretend not to.”

Royushi looked away. “…Yeah. It was him.”

The world did not end.

But Ishara felt something inside her lock into place.

“Did he touch you?” she asked flatly.

“No.”

“Did he interfere with your Shuryoku?”

“No.”

“Did Echo—” She stopped herself.

Royushi glanced at her. “You almost said something dangerous.”

She ignored that. “Did anyone else see him?”

“No.”

That answer unsettled her the most.

She took a breath, steadying herself.

“You understand what this means,” Ishara said.

“That hiding won’t work anymore?” Royushi replied.

“That watching won’t either,” she corrected. “Once Sevran looks at you, the Citadel follows.”

Royushi frowned. “He said the Citadel learned from him.”

Ishara’s lips thinned. “That tracks.”

She looked out over the yard. “They’ll test you soon. Officially.”

“Position offers,” Royushi said.

Her head snapped toward him. “He said that?”

Royushi nodded once.

Silence stretched between them.

“You don’t have to accept anything,” Ishara said.

“I know.”

“Do you?” She turned fully toward him. “Because when people like Sevran speak, refusing feels like rebellion.”

Royushi met her gaze. “Then I guess I’m bad at obedience.”

That almost made her smile.

Almost.

“You’re not alone,” Ishara said instead. “No matter what he implies.”

Royushi hesitated. “You sure about that?”

She didn’t answer immediately.

Then: “Yes.”

The certainty in her voice surprised even her.

“I don’t know what Echo’s plan is,” she continued. “And I don’t care. What I care about is that you don’t let someone else name you before you do.”

Royushi exhaled slowly. “That sounds like advice.”

“It’s a warning,” she corrected.

He laughed softly. “You’re consistent.”

“Someone has to be.”

They stood together in the stairwell, the Citadel humming around them like a machine pretending to be neutral.

“Royushi,” Ishara said quietly.

“Yeah?”

“If Sevran comes back—if the Citadel corners you—don’t disappear.”

He looked at her. “I wasn’t planning to.”

“Good,” she said. “Because I don’t chase ghosts.”

A pause.

“…That was aimed at Echo, wasn’t it?” Royushi asked.

“Yes.”

He smiled faintly. “I’ll stay.”

She nodded once.

That was enough.

As she walked away, Ishara felt it again—the sense of pressure shifting, of pieces moving.

Someone powerful had stepped onto the board.

And for the first time, Royushi Kairo wasn’t just reacting.

He was being reacted to.

Which meant the next move wouldn’t be quiet.

And Ishara intended to be standing right there when it happened.