Faint echoes of footsteps mixed with the scent of clean metal in Elysium Academy's dining hall. A hush lingered, heavy, where students moved without speaking. The air held more than just lunch - it carried stillness laced with unspoken strain. Light gleamed off tabletops, cold and untouched by warmth. Each breath drawn there tasted slightly thin, like silence had weight.
Lunchtime started just moments ago when the initial public conclusion emerged.
A figure from Class C stood still by the central podium - narrow frame, spectacles sliding forward. Light from his tablet spilled out, red and flat: Balance: 0.00. A quiet tone followed, gentle as someone excusing themselves mid-sentence. Talk in the room did not cease - it dipped slightly, much like silence falling across a pack once one stumbles.
Through the speakers came the moderator's voice, steady yet faintly broken. A pause followed - cool, deliberate, almost artificial in tone.
"Student 47-892, Elias Marrow. Insufficient points detected. Immediate recalibration protocol initiated. You have sixty seconds to vacate the premises. Non-compliance will result in permanent record erasure."
Elias opened his mouth. No sound came out at first. Then a small, cracked laugh. "I - I paid the fine yesterday. The debate loss was rigged. Liora admitted it in the group chat - "
A tone sounds again. This time, minus five hundred for claiming something untrue.
Down went the boy's legs, collapsing beneath him. From above, two smooth dark spheres split away, each dragging slender mechanical limbs behind. Contact was unnecessary. It wasn't required. Backward staggered Elias, his glance flickering across people he had known as companions. Not one looked back.
A still figure in the dim edge of the room, Kairos Vale observed from beside the darkened doorway.
A single figure filled the silence, seated where five others might have been. The meal waited - gray patty, clear goo in a cup, plain water - not touched once. Strands of black hair drifted sideways, masking part of his face. One visible eye stayed fixed forward, motionless. Light from the screen reflected in that gaze, showing ranks shifting down a digital list. Up top, names from Tier One claimed every high mark through number forty. Near the end, nearly off the chart, those ranked lowest carried tags stamped D. Last among them bore his identifier.
Kairos Vale held a total of 4,872 points.
Average. Exactly - by design - ordinary.
Overhearing the comment, a student from Class B shifted closer to her peer - her words clear but hushed. That boy won't last long unless he steps up, she implied without naming him
Kairos stayed silent. Always had. Never one to respond.
Flying machines moved toward Elias. From one, a slender probe emerged - meant not to injure, but to implant. For the chip. He tensed when it touched just behind his ear. A quiet signal sounded. Above, words lit up: Identity delinked. Record expunged.
Out of nowhere, Elias Marrow vanished from the academy's records. One moment present, the next - erased without trace. Not removed, not archived - simply gone. The system held no sign, no error note, no flag. Absence took its place quietly, like a name never entered at all.
Though his chest rose and fell, though tears slipped without sound, across records, logs, school files - he did not exist.
The machines guided his path to the exit. Silence filled every corner. Assistance did not come from anyone present. Life in the eating hall restarted - steady, unchanged, like nothing more than an absence had passed through.
A single bite was enough for Kairos. Cardboard bitterness coated the tongue, underlaid by a sharp tang of metal.
On his feet now, he carried the tray forward, moving beyond the vacant podium - eyes fixed ahead, never turning. The space where someone might have spoken stayed silent behind him.
Beneath two floors down, Class D gathered in a room without windows - harsh overhead lights casting flat shadows across blank walls. Rows of desks stood like soldiers, perfectly aligned. A stale tang lingered under every breath: sharp ozone mixed with something sour, long forgotten.
Kairos settled into his spot again - back-row, tucked in the distant edge. Against the wall, just out of sight. Few could see him there.
Into the room stepped the instructor, precise to the minute - Dr. Halver, around forty-five, wearing a faint smile that didn't touch his gaze. A single tap came from his finger against the podium. Above his head, the class record appeared in midair. Though quiet, the moment carried weight.
"Placement Trials begin in seventy-two hours," he announced. "This year's format has been adjusted. Hidden variables will be introduced at random intervals. Points awarded or deducted accordingly. Class ranking determines resource allocation for the next quarter. Questions?"
Silence.
His eyes moved across the space, then stopped, just for a moment, at Kairos.
"Vale."
At that moment, people looked up. A small tilt of Kairos's head shifted everything.
"Your current contribution to Class D is… negligible. Care to explain?"
Kairos spoke without expression, as if uninterested. "Meeting the bare minimum is what I'm doing," came the reply
A handful of quiet laughs. His grin grew rigid.
"Minimum is for those who intend to remain minimum. The Trials will expose deficiencies. Yours appear structural."
Kairos said nothing.
Halver moved on.
Once the bell sounded, groups of students moved quickly toward the door. Only after most had left did Kairos stand. The classroom quieted, almost hollow, just then.
Waiting in the corridor stood Jax.
Facing him from across the room, he stood with arms folded, a raw cut above his left eye oozing slowly. Downward streaks of red marked his collar, soaked through fabric. As if walls fought back now - this one clearly won.
"Nice of you to show up," Jax muttered.
Kairos paused just short of reaching her. Blood marked the ground beneath you, he noted without surprise
"Thorne's dogs. Said I was 'harboring suspicious behavior.' Wanted to know why you never talk, why you never lose points in the side bets, why Class D's deficit isn't worse with you dragging us down."
Kairos examined the incision - neat, exact, skillfully done.
With a breath, his voice broke the quiet. "It's time," the man added.
Silence filled the hall as they moved toward the dorm wing. Inside, Kairos's room waited - tight, bare. A narrow bed stood against one wall, a desk near the window, just one chair pulled close. Nothing hung on the surfaces. Not a photo, not a book left open. This was a place meant to hold nothing, ready to vanish fast when orders arrived.
Down sank Jax into the seat. A sharp breath followed when fingers met skin.
From beneath the bed came the small med-kit, pulled out by Kairos. Silence filled the room. Using antiseptic, he wiped the cut clean - then butterfly strips followed, placed carefully. Gauze pressed down after, held firm without a sound.
Throughout, Jax kept his eyes fixed on the man.
"You could've stopped them," he said finally. Low. Angry. "You see everything. You always know what's coming."
Kairos increased pressure on the bandage. A sharp breath escaped Jax.
"I see," Kairos answered. "That doesn't mean I act."
"Then what the hell are you doing here? Sitting in last place like it's a strategy?"
Kairos tied off the last knot in the cloth. Paused a moment. The task stood complete
A single laugh escaped Jax - sharp, laced with doubt. "That idea? It's madness." Then silence fell again
"Maybe."
Jax stood. Towered over him. Not threatening. Just frustrated. "They're going to kill me to get to you. You get that, right? Thorne's not playing academy games anymore. He wants blood."
Kairos looked at him. His gaze did not waver. Expression gave nothing away.
"Then bleed somewhere else," he said quietly.
Jax stood motionless, eyes locked ahead. A slow shake of his head followed, almost reluctant. The hint of a sour grin pulled one corner of his lips upward. "Vale," he said, voice low, "you've got ice in your veins." His words landed without force, yet carried weight. Silence stretched after them, thin and sharp."
"I know."
Jax walked out, silent. Behind, the latch settled into place.
Kaios stayed on his feet, motionless, for what felt like ages.
After that, he took a seat by the desk. His tablet came on without delay. The hidden ledger appeared - only ever meant for his eyes. Lines of figures moved down the screen. Movement of value marked in points. Secret exchanges buried deep. Losses mapped ahead of time. Variables shifted quietly.
He tapped once.
A payment moves more than twelve hundred dollars toward Jax Harlan - origin unknown. Details emerge without a name attached, leaving only figures behind.
Untraceable.
The book was shut by him.
Faint glimmers of light still clung to the edges of the campus as dusk settled in. Beyond the barrier, urban brightness sparkled - sharp, scattered, restless.
Kairos eased into the chair. His eyelids dropped shut.
Across the room, thoughts moved fast. Not just plans - shapes of them, sharp at the edges. Elara began clean, precise, almost cold. Then came Thorne, pushing through without grace but with weight enough to shift everything. While others waited, measured each breath, she stayed silent, thinking two steps ahead. Jax broke forward before anyone could stop him.
On the edge - forever on the edge - he shifted fragments people had never noticed before.
Out of nowhere, a memory surfaced. It arrived without warning.
Flickering light fills the space. He is small, just eight years old. Wires stick to his head like tiny anchors. From somewhere beyond sight, a sound urges him forward - pushing, repeating, demanding speed now
Pain like lightning behind the eyes.
It was silence instead of tears.
He had learned.
The memory faded.
Kairos opened his eyes.
A quiet beep came from the device. A note arrived without a name attached. Silence followed.
"I know what you are."
Sender: masked.
Kairos paused, eyes fixed on the letters - silence stretching between each breath. A moment passed before anything shifted. The page stayed still under unblinking focus. Not a sound broke through. Then again, nothing needed to.
After that, a single response was composed by him.
Good.
The post vanished after he removed it.
Stood.
Standing at the window, he looked through thick, mirrored glass - clear on his side, hidden from outside. Sight moved outward only; vision from beyond did not return. From within, the world appeared open. To those outside, nothing showed. His view remained unblocked while theirs stayed blind.
Beneath, across the open courtyard, Elara Voss gathered with her closest allies. To one side stood Thorne, to the other Liora. A remark from Thorne brought laughter - her head tipping upward, neck bare in the moment's ease.
Quietly, like a player sure of the game's outcome. A stillness settled in their hands, shaped by certainty long before the last move.
Seventy-two
Five hours remain before the Trials begin.
He had time.
Time never seemed to run out when he was around.
Far beyond dominance, progress relied less on pace. Victory lived elsewhere.
Accuracy mattered above all else.
Still, Kairos Vale always hit the mark.
[End Of Chapter 1]♥️