There was no wind. No warning.
Just silence.
Too sudden.
Captain Drachmour sensed it before he saw it—his body freezing mid-step on the upper terrace of the eastern barracks.
He turned slightly, eyes narrowing.
The night was still. Moonlight painted pale silver across the stone... and there, in its center, stood a figure that hadn't been there a breath ago.
Black cloak. No footsteps. No aura.
But the presence was undeniable—so absolute that even the shadows seemed to pull away.
Drachmour's hand hovered just above his weapon, but he didn't move. His voice cut low and hard through the stillness:
"So you're here."
Noctis said nothing.
He stood unmoving. The very stillness around him felt unnatural—too still, as if time had forgotten to pass.
Then—
He stepped forward.
The stone cracked beneath his foot—not from force, but from presence. A wave of invisible pressure rippled outward, dense and suffocating. The terrace shifted subtly, as though even the structure recoiled from his existence.
And in the blink between one heartbeat and the next—
He was closer.
No sound. No motion.
Just suddenly there, a breath away from Drachmour.
The captain didn't react outwardly, but the pulse in his wrist surged. The pressure was different this close—too real. Too heavy. Like standing beneath a storm that didn't announce itself with thunder, only the knowing of being utterly small.
Still, he didn't back away.
For the first time, Noctis spoke.
"You and I, we have great magic unlike any other… but everyone had their own way of achieving it. What was your way?"
Drachmour didn't expect the question. His eyes narrowed just slightly—not in offense, but in calculation.
"Why," Drachmour said, his voice quiet but steady, "would someone with more magic than anyone I've ever seen… care about how I earned mine?"
Drachmour paused, realizing the figure hadn't come for a fight—but for something else. Something he wanted to know.
"I broke what resisted," Drachmour replied. "Tore through until something gave."
Noctis held his gaze a moment longer. Then—
"There is no law where I stand."
The words were calm, unshaken.
Not defiance. Not arrogance. Just truth.
Drachmour stared into that empty, unknowable gaze.
"What are your intentions?"
Noctis didn't answer at first.
Then—
"Tell me… what would you do with this much power?"
Noctis took one small step back. Just enough to break the unspoken boundary between them.
He turned his head slightly, enough that the moonlight caught the edge of his jaw. The air remained still, waiting.
"It will all come to light," he said quietly. "Soon."
A pause.
"Your name," Drachmour said as a sign of acknowledgement.
Noctis turned, only slightly.
The moon caught his profile.
"…Noctis."
And in the next breath—he vanished.
No gust. No sound. Just absence.
Leaving behind a cracked floor and a silence that now felt deeply aware of itself.
Drachmour stood alone, the moonlight reaching over his shoulders like cold hands.
He didn't speak again.
But his expression had changed.
For the first time in years—he was curious.
---------
Sunlight filtered softly through the stone-framed windows of the eastern dorms. Kael stood near the mirror, wearing the crisp blue uniform of the Research Division. He adjusted his collar with calm precision, movements deliberate and quiet.
Veila sat nearby, loosely braiding her hair. Mira stood next to Kael, hands on her hips, watching him with a mock-critical expression.
"You'd think someone who stares this hard wouldn't miss a fold," Mira teased, pointing at his sleeve.
Kael didn't react. He simply shifted the fabric slightly, perfectly straightening it without a word.
Veila stretched, letting her braid fall over one shoulder. "Mira, he's not going to respond. You could say the moon's falling and he'd probably just blink."
Mira laughed. "It's like dressing a statue."
Veila glanced between the two of them with a subtle grin. "Careful, Mira. Keep looking at him like that and Barnes might start asking questions about his sister's taste."
Mira blinked, then swatted playfully at Veila's shoulder. "Oh, shut up."
Veila smirked, satisfied. "Just saying."
Just then, the door opened.
Altherion stepped in, dressed in the deep red of the Attack Division uniform. His expression was relaxed, though his posture, as always, was composed. The moment he entered, the atmosphere shifted slightly—more grounded.
"Red suits you," Veila said, like it wasn't the first time the thought crossed her mind.
Altherion gave a soft half-smile. "Thanks."
"Looks like I'm not the only one ready early," he added, his tone easy.
Kael turned slightly and gave a small nod.
"Didn't want to keep you waiting," Kael replied simply.
Altherion walked over, glancing at the sharp lines of Kael's uniform. "Not bad."
Then, placing a firm hand on Kael's shoulder, he added quietly, "You'll hold your own."
Kael met his eyes briefly. "I always do."
The two boys stepped out, side by side. The door closed softly behind them.
As their footsteps faded down the hall, Mira leaned closer to Veila, whispering just loud enough.
"You saying red suits him wasn't subtle at all."
Veila rolled her eyes. "Don't start."
Mira grinned. "I'm not starting. I'm just pointing."
Veila gave a short laugh and shook her head. "You're impossible."
They shared a quiet laugh together, and for a moment, everything felt weightless — the still peace before the day truly began.
---------------
The corridor stretched in calm silence, early sunlight spilling across the polished stone. Kael and Altherion walked side by side — one in the blue of the Research Division, the other in the deep red of the Attack Division. Their steps echoed lightly, steady and unrushed.
They passed a few recruits along the way, but no one approached. There was a quiet respect to the moment — or perhaps, hesitation.
After a few turns, Altherion spoke first.
"You ready for the next phase of training?"
Kael gave a small nod. "I was ready before it began."
Altherion gave a short exhale, almost a laugh. "Confident. I like that."
Kael didn't respond.
A few more steps passed between them before Altherion added, casually, "You get much free time during the break?"
"Some," Kael said. "Stayed close to Veila and Mira most of it."
"Yeah, Mira…" Altherion slowed just a bit. "You interested in anyone?"
Kael glanced at him briefly, expression unreadable. "No."
Altherion smiled. "What about Mira? You seem to get along with her."
There was a pause.
Kael didn't look at him when he finally answered.
"She's kind. Cute, I guess. I just don't know if I see her that way."
Altherion nodded thoughtfully. "Fair enough."
He didn't press.
But after a beat, he added a quiet smirk, "As for me… I've got my eye on someone."
Kael didn't ask who. He didn't have to.
Altherion didn't offer a name either.
They walked on, side by side, each with thoughts unspoken—and intentions yet to unfold.