I should be relaxing. Celebrating. We just aced a tactical simulation against one of the hardest Rift scenarios they’ve thrown at us. Even Rei, who still barely tolerates my breathing pattern, followed my lead like we’d trained together for years.

  But that feeling doesn’t leave me.

  Eyes. Always watching.

  Later That Night – KISA Dormitory, Common Room

  The vending machine is losing a fight with Riku, which given that it doesn’t have arms makes this feel more tragic than funny.

  “I pressed the steamed buns option!” he shouts. “Why did I get—who puts miso paste in a drink pouch?!”

  Ren sips his tea, totally unfazed. “A rare L. Accept it.”

  I’m half-laughing when I notice Rei slip out of the common room without a word. Typical. But the weird thing is she didn’t seem annoyed for once.

  Maybe something about the last few simulations shifted things between us.

  Or maybe she just didn’t want to kill me for a full twenty-four hours.

  Either way, I’ll take it.

  The Next Morning – Buddies Chat

  Riku: BREAKING NEWS: I declare today “No Death and Snacks” day. Ren: You’re not in charge of anything. Rei: Do NOT put my name on that group activity plan. Lynn: ...We’re still going though, right?

  Essentia District – Seoul

  It’s... alive. In a way the sterile halls of KISA could never be.

  Runes pulse beneath ancient cobblestone. The smell of spiced oils and grilled meat hits me like a jutsu to the face. And everything everything hums with faint essentia currents. This place isn’t just for buying food. It’s where sensitives go to feel real again.

  “I’m telling you,” Riku says, leading us through a narrow alley, “this place will change your life.”

  “It’s dumplings,” Rei mutters.

  “They’re sentient dumplings,” Riku insists.

  I laugh. Harder than I have in weeks.

  And for a moment, everything’s normal.

  We find an open-air table beside a tiny ramen cart lit with paper lanterns. The cook doesn’t even look up when we order—just nods and gets to work like he’s been expecting us. Like this is what we’re supposed to be doing.

  I lean back against the bench, letting the ambient chatter of the street roll over me like warm rain.

  “So,” Ren says after a pause. “Why’d you really come here?”

  The question hits harder than I expect.

  Not because I haven’t asked myself that—hell, I ask myself every day but because it’s the first time someone else has.

  I shrug, half-smiling.

  “Honestly? I want to be strong. Strong enough to matter. Strong enough to stay standing when everything else falls apart.”

  “Damn,” Riku mutters. “Could’ve just said ‘to impress girls,’ but alright.”

  “That too,” I add, smirking.

  “Classic,” Ren says, raising his cup.

  But something shifts at the table. Subtle.

  Rei’s posture straightens slightly. Her arms aren’t crossed for once. She looks at me—not with judgment, or suspicion. Just... watching.

  Measuring.

  Evening – Same Street, Lanterns Flickering

  We walk slowly. No rush. No mission.

  “Do you think we’ll get sent out soon?” I ask.

  “We’re not ready,” Rei says automatically.

  “Speak for yourself,” Riku grins.

  “The instructors are still observing,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “They’re gathering data, I think. Seeing who cracks.”

  “Or who breaks the rules first,” Ren adds. “There’s chatter—upperclassmen say there’s a hidden program. Some kind of special ops fast track. They call it the Ash Vault.”

  “Sounds ominous,” I say.

  Rei doesn’t answer.

  But I see the way her hand drifts toward her weapon casually, unconsciously. Like she’s ready for whatever’s coming.

  And maybe she’s not the only one.

  The following morning hit like a hammer.

  I hadn’t even stepped out of the dorms before our KISA-issued tablets pinged with an updated schedule.

  NOTICE: Apex Red and Black joint session scheduled. Location: Rift Strategy Observation Hall. Required: All ranked students.

  “Joint session?” I muttered, scrolling through the file as we made our way down the corridor. “That’s new.”

  “It’s probably about the rankings,” Ren said, sipping his ever-present tea. “They want to shake the tree. See what falls.”

  “Or who cracks,” Rei added.

  “I hope there’s a duel,” Riku grinned. “I wanna throw someone across the room before breakfast.”

  “You're always like this in the morning?” I asked.

  “Every day is an opportunity for chaos.”

  Observation Hall – 3rd Floor Combat Wing

  It was the first time we’d seen the Apex Red Division in person.

  They looked different.

  Tighter uniforms. Less combat padding, more tech embedded. Several of them had advanced gear sensor modules, interface gloves, a few even carried data rods instead of weapons. But what stood out most was how quiet they were. They moved like they already knew how this all worked. Like this wasn’t new.

  That’s when I saw her.

  She stood slightly apart from the rest, leaning against the far wall with her arms folded and one boot kicked up behind her. Long platinum hair braided over her shoulder, high-collared crimson uniform perfectly pressed. She had this… frostbitten calm to her, like you could touch her skin and your fingers might go numb.

  Her eyes were light blue. Piercing. Watching everything.

  And when her gaze landed on me?

  Something passed between us—quick and sharp, like the echo of a drawn blade.

  I didn’t even need the HUD ping to know who she was.

  #2 – Kyra Voss, Apex Red

  “She’s the second highest in Red?” I murmured to Ren.

  “Mmhm,” he replied. “Word is she’s a control-type. Absolute lockdown precision. Rift anomaly suppressor.”

  “Something tells me that’s not all she can do.”

  I turned my attention back to our side of the room… just in time to see our #2 walk in.

  Aki Jang.

  She walked with a quiet confidence that didn’t demand attention—it commanded it. Mid-length black hair, straight and tucked behind one ear, with streaks of icy silver at the tips. Her uniform was crisp, but her gloves were already off, tucked into her belt—like she was always ready to throw down if needed.

  Her expression was calm. Maybe even distant.

  But when she passed by our squad and caught my eye, she offered the smallest, briefest smile.

  “Kurosaki,” she said with a nod. “Good work on the last simulation.”

  Her voice was level. Low. Measured.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Didn’t realize we had fans in the upper ranks.”

  “We don’t,” she replied flatly then paused, lips curling slightly. “But you’re interesting.”

  And then she walked away.

  Just like that.

  Rei glanced at me. “You attract weird people.”

  “Yeah,” I said, exhaling. “I’m starting to notice.”

  Minutes Later – Lecture Begins

  Specter entered silently followed by a Red Division instructor I didn’t recognize, all sharp angles and cybernetic implants. No words. Just motion. The wall behind them lit up with maps, charts, and surveillance clips.

  “This is your competition,” Specter said. “This is your future. Learn. Or be replaced.”

  I tried to focus.

  But I couldn’t shake the weight of those two women in the room.

  Kyra cold as ice, eyes always calculating. Watching us. Watching me.

  And Aki controlled, composed, but just human enough to feel real beneath the armor.

  Something told me this joint session wasn’t a fluke.

  Something bigger was about to begin.

  The Observation Hall felt like walking into a pressure chamber.

  I’d never seen the Red Division up close. They weren’t just disciplined—they were different. Sharper. Cleaner. Their gear was more advanced, their formations tighter. Even the way they stood in line looked rehearsed.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  That’s when I noticed her.

  She wasn’t standing in line like the rest. She was leaning casually against a support pillar like she owned the oxygen in the room.

  Long platinum-silver braid. Crimson uniform with a single black trim. No visible weapons—just a slim terminal clipped to her wrist like an afterthought. Her eyes were a shade of blue I didn’t think occurred naturally—icy, almost reflective. The moment our eyes met, a static charge crawled down my spine.

  #2 – Kyra Voss. Apex Red.

  I knew her by reputation. A suppressor-type specialist. Rift neutralizer. Precision incarnate.

  She didn’t smile.

  She didn’t blink.

  She just stared at me like I was a threat she hadn’t fully classified yet.

  “Don’t make it weird,” Riku whispered, stepping beside me.

  “What?” I blinked.

  “You’re staring like you’re trying to melt her with your eyes. Not that it would work.”

  “She started it.”

  “Of course she did,” he muttered. “She looks like a vampire general.”

  Before I could reply, another figure stepped into the room—calmer, quieter, but no less commanding.

  Aki Jang.

  Unlike Kyra, she didn’t draw attention. She earned it. Her walk was smooth, deliberate. Every movement measured. She had black hair streaked with silver at the ends, pulled into a simple knot, and her dark eyes scanned the room like a strategist taking in the first turn of a board game.

  She didn’t waste time with theatrics.

  She just approached our group, nodded politely, and said, “Kurosaki.”

  I blinked. “That’s me.”

  “I watched the tactical sim replay,” she said. “Nice work.”

  Her voice was soft, but firm. Not cold… just practiced. Like she’d learned to keep people at arm’s length because they expected too much.

  “Thanks,” I said. “You’re #2, right?”

  “Only for now,” she said, not as a boast—just a truth.

  Then she gave the faintest smile. The kind that could vanish at any moment.

  “You're different than I expected.”

  “Let me guess: less smart, more impulsive?”

  “No,” she said. “Just thought you would be an asshole.”

  Then she walked away like it was just another line in her notebook.

  Riku leaned close again. “You’re collecting a fan club.”

  “Can’t tell if they want to recruit me or kill me.”

  “Can’t it be both?”

  Specter entered without a word, followed by an unfamiliar Red Division instructor tall, augmented, surgical in motion. The air in the hall snapped into silence.

  The walls lit up with tactical maps, combat clips, energy readings.

  “These are your rivals,” Specter said. “Learn from them. Compete with them. Because when the real missions start… only the elite remain.”

  And as Kyra glanced at me again from across the room, I realized something:

  This wasn’t just a joint session.

  It was a declaration of war.

  They didn’t wait long to throw us in the fire.

  Specter’s lecture ended barely five minutes ago before the floor of the Observation Hall began to shift beneath our feet. Tiles realigned. Walls lowered. A projection dome flickered to life above us, feeding in the tactical data of a new environment.

  “Joint-squad evaluation begins now,” the Red Division instructor announced. His voice was mechanical, half-synth. “Objective: Rift breach containment in simulated urban terrain.”

  The room shivered as terrain mapping took shape—an old cityscape with crumbling towers, tight alleyways, collapsed bridges. Perfect for ambushes. Terrible for ego.

  “Black Squad Kurosaki, Rei, Riku, Ren,” the instructor continued, “you’ll be paired with Red Squad Leader Kyra Voss and Aki Jang. Lead rotations will shift mid-simulation. You have fifteen minutes. Begin.”

  I didn’t even get a chance to blink before Kyra was standing directly in front of me.

  That same firey look. Like she was examining a weapon, not a person.

  “You’re not what I expected,” she said.

  “You’re not the first to say that.”

  “That wasn’t a compliment.”

  I met her gaze evenly. “Didn’t sound like one.”

  She stepped closer, her voice still level but edged with something sharp and cold.

  “There’s a difference between drawing attention and earning position. Just because they’re watching you doesn’t mean you belong here.”

  “I’m not here for permission,” I said. “Neither are you.”

  Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but she didn’t reply. Instead, she turned and walked away, cape swaying behind her.

  “This is going to be fun,” I muttered.

  “Define fun,” Rei said from behind me.

  “Tense teamwork with people who might stab me in my sleep.”

  “Sounds like middle school,” Riku added.

  Simulation Begin – Urban Breach Map

  We dropped in as one cohesive team. Or… something pretending to be one.

  Kyra took immediate command, dispatching orders like a machine—quick, efficient, but no warmth. Aki followed calmly, supplementing her commands with clearer unit support strategies. She was sharp, quiet, but not condescending.

  We were supposed to follow.

  Except her first plan almost got Ren pinned by simulated Riftborn the size of a tank.

  “Back left sector is exposed!” I shouted, redirecting Ren. “We don’t need to push forward until we stabilize that blind corner!”

  Aki turned, raising an eyebrow but she didn’t argue. Instead, she adjusted her own call.

  “Reassigning Kyra’s sweep route. Kurosaki’s right we’re overextended.”

  Kyra’s voice came over the comms, clipped. “You have a better formation in mind?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Pull us tighter. Riku and Ren set an L-shaped trap here, with staggered pulse mines. Rei and I bait the next wave.”

  There was a pause then Aki again:

  “Executing his plan. Let’s see how it runs.”

  The second wave hit harder than expected—but we flattened it.

  No injuries. Maximum score efficiency. Time: 27 seconds.

  Kyra didn’t speak for a long time.

  Later – Simulation Debrief

  I stepped off the platform, sweat prickling at the back of my neck. I could feel the looks. From the instructors. From Red. From her.

  Kyra approached again, arms crossed.

  “You led. They listened.”

  “Was that a problem?”

  “No,” she said. “It’s… surprising.”

  She studied me a little longer less like prey, more like a puzzle.

  “You should watch your pace, Kurosaki. The faster you rise, the harder the system pushes back.”

  And then she turned and left before I could ask what the hell that meant.

  Elsewhere – Observation Room

  Behind mirrored glass, two instructors sat reviewing the footage.

  “Kyra’s interest is increasing,” one said.

  “So is Aki’s. Kurosaki is disrupting the control structure more than projected.”

  “Send the report to the Ash Vault committee.”

  “Already did.”

  Back in the Hall

  Rei leaned against the wall beside me, watching Kyra walk away.

  “You handled that better than I thought,” she said.

  “Which part?”

  “All of it.”

  She didn’t smile. But her voice had less steel in it than usual.

  Maybe, just maybe, I was starting to earn her trust.

  The Observation Hall’s lights dimmed, instructors filed out, and our mixed squads dispersed into the humming arteries of KISA. Riku bragged the whole way back to the dorm (“We pasted Red in 27 seconds—tell your friends!”), Ren mumbled about needing “triple-strength existential tea,” and Rei… Rei just walked beside me, silent but not withdrawn, like she was still weighing everything that had changed between us.

  Whatever tomorrow brought—the whispers of the Ash Vault, Kyra’s warning, Aki’s measured interest I could feel the next shift coming. And for the first time since I’d stepped off that plane from Oklahoma, I felt ready to meet it head-on.