Attention was a dangerous thing.
Kael Draven felt it the moment Iron Resolve stepped back onto academy grounds.
Not cheers. Not applause.
Eyes.
Too many of them.
Students paused mid-conversation. Some pretended not to stare and failed badly. Others didn't bother hiding it at all. Even instructors—people who had once dismissed Iron Resolve with a glance—watched more closely now.
Measured. Judging. Recalculating.
Iron Resolve walked in silence.
Their uniforms were torn from the mission, stained with dirt and dried blood. Their steps were heavy, exhaustion clinging to them like a second skin—but they didn't slow.
Kael walked at the front.
Not because anyone told him to.
Because that was where he belonged now.
Lyra noticed it too. The way people's gazes followed him. The way whispers shifted when he passed.
That's him. The one without Aether. The one leading Iron Resolve.
Her fingers curled slightly.
For reasons she didn't fully understand yet… she felt proud.
---
The Board Changes Again
The Star Board stood tall at the center of the courtyard, its surface glowing faintly.
Kael stopped.
So did everyone else.
Names rearranged themselves slowly, light rippling across the stone like liquid.
Iron Resolve.
One more black star dimmed.
Then—
A gold star ignited in its place.
Not flashy. Not dramatic.
But unmistakable.
A murmur spread through the crowd.
"They did another one…" "That was a real mission." "They weren't even supposed to be frontline."
Kael stared at the board, breathing steady.
One star.
Only one.
But it wasn't luck. It wasn't mercy.
It was earned.
Eron Hale stepped beside him, arms crossed. "You realize what this means, right?"
Kael didn't look away. "They won't underestimate us anymore."
Eron snorted softly. "No. Worse. They'll start trying to break you."
Kael nodded once.
"Good."
---
Rival Lines
Across the courtyard, Team Valeris stood near the front ranks.
Perfect uniforms. Perfect posture. Perfect stars.
Rion Valeris watched Iron Resolve without expression.
His team laughed quietly at something one of them said—but Rion didn't join in.
His eyes were on Kael.
Not with arrogance. Not with disdain.
With calculation.
Kael felt it.
The moment their eyes met, the world seemed to narrow.
No words passed between them.
They didn't need to.
This wasn't hatred.
This was inevitability.
Rion turned away first.
Not because he feared Kael—
But because he had acknowledged him.
And that alone sent a ripple through the academy.
---
Instructor Vale's Warning
Later that day, Iron Resolve was summoned.
Not to the training grounds.
But to the observation hall.
Instructor Vale stood alone at the center, hands clasped behind his back.
"You've drawn attention," he said calmly.
Taren shifted. "That's… bad?"
Vale's eyes flicked to him. "It's dangerous."
He turned to Kael.
"From this point forward, your missions will not be lenient. You will be tested harder. Watched closer. Pushed further."
Kael met his gaze. "That's fine."
Vale studied him for a long moment.
"No," he said. "It's not fine. Because pressure reveals cracks."
Silence followed.
Then Vale added quietly, "And enemies don't always come from outside the battlefield."
Lyra stiffened.
Mira's eyes narrowed.
Kael didn't react—but he listened.
---
A Quiet Shift
That night, Iron Resolve gathered in their dorm.
No loud celebrations. No boasting.
Just silence… and shared exhaustion.
Mira sat cross-legged, cleaning her gear. "Do you ever notice how everything changed the moment Kael started standing in front?"
Taren shrugged. "Hard not to."
Joren leaned back against the wall. "Feels like the academy's holding its breath."
Lyra glanced at Kael, who sat near the window, staring out at the distant lights beyond the walls.
"Kael," she said softly. "Does it scare you?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"Yes."
The word surprised them.
"But not enough to stop," he continued. "If being watched is the price of moving forward… I'll pay it."
Lyra felt something settle in her chest.
Not fear.
Trust.
---
Elsewhere
Deep beneath the kingdom, where Aether twisted unnaturally and shadows breathed like living things—
Malrik Noctis stood before a pulsing crystal.
Images shimmered across its surface.
A boy. No Aether. Leading others.
Malrik's lips curved faintly.
"So the powerless one gathers followers," he murmured. "Good."
The crystal darkened.
"Leaders fall harder."
---
Iron Resolve slept that night unaware of how many eyes now followed their steps.
But one thing was certain.
They were no longer invisible.
And once the world starts watching…
It never looks away again.