The Walk

  The next morning came too fast.

  Kael hadn’t really slept. Just laid in bed after putting the lockbox away, staring at the ceiling until his alarm buzzed like it was pissed off at him. His limbs felt heavy, like the ground itself didn’t want to let him go.

  He got dressed without thinking—hoodie, black pants, scuffed boots—and moved through the apartment like a ghost. Marek had already left for work. A note on the counter said: Don’t forget to eat.

  He didn’t.

  Not because of the note. Just... habit.

  By the time he stepped outside, the city was wide awake. Skytrains buzzed overhead. Nexus billboards flashed highlights from top-ranked Academy students. People in polished uniforms moved in perfect rhythm.

  Kael cut through it all like he didn’t belong to any of it.

  Annabelle’s house was only two blocks away. Small, overgrown garden in the front. Paint starting to chip on the edges. He knocked once and waited.

  She opened the door already in her uniform—neatly buttoned coat, dark hair tied back, Nexus ID clipped to her collar. Calm as always.

  “You look like you didn’t sleep,” she said.

  Kael grunted. “Morning to you too.”

  She grabbed her bag and stepped out, locking the door behind her.

  “You know I can teleport, right?” she said as they started walking.

  “Yeah.”

  “And that walking two blocks is wildly inefficient?”

  “Mmhm.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Annabelle glanced sideways. “So why do we still walk together?”

  Kael shrugged. “Because it’s quiet.”

  That got the smallest smile out of her.

  Their route to school wasn’t exciting. Same cracked sidewalks, same half-broken traffic drones, same grumpy old vendor on the corner yelling at pigeons like they owed him money.

  But the silence between them wasn’t awkward. Never had been.

  Annabelle spoke again as they neared the gates. “You feel... off.”

  Kael didn’t look at her. “Do I?”

  “Yeah. Something’s shifted. I don’t know what, but it’s there.”

  He didn’t answer.

  Because she was right. And he didn’t know how to explain the book. The spiral. The pressure in his chest.

  “Nothing happened,” he said anyway.

  She didn’t believe him. But she didn’t push.

  That was what made Annabelle different.

  The school loomed in front of them—tall, gray, humming faintly with low-level Tenra energy. It wasn’t the main Academy, but it fed into it. The last step before the serious tests began.

  They entered through the central plaza, where students were already grouping off by class rankings, recent evaluations, and clout.

  Kael ignored them.

  Emma waved from across the yard, energy high as ever. “Yo!” she called. “You both look like you crawled out of a bunker!”

  Daniel popped up beside her with a grin. “Sleepover in the apocalypse?”

  Kael gave them a lazy nod. “Morning.”

  Annabelle added, “Try not to set anything on fire this time, Daniel.”

  “No promises.”

  They talked for a bit, but when the bell rang, Emma and Daniel veered left—Class B.

  Kael and Annabelle headed right—Class A.

  Same year. Different paths.

  Class A was smaller, quieter. Less explosive personalities, more strategy types. People who either already had dangerous Imprints or were so academically sharp the system couldn’t ignore them.

  Kael was neither. Officially.

  He slid into his usual seat near the back. Annabelle sat beside him. She always did.

  Their instructor entered—a tall woman with buzzed hair and an air of strict patience. Miss Halden. Ranked Tier 2. Imprint unknown. No nonsense.

  “Today,” she said, voice clipped, “we’ll be preparing for your Evaluation Week. If you haven’t already heard, practicals begin in three days.”

  A few students groaned.

  Kael didn’t react.

  “Whether you’re ranked or not,” Halden continued, “your participation is required. Your future placements depend on it. That includes support roles, tactical analysts, and non-Imprint personnel.”

  Her eyes lingered on Kael for half a second. Not hostile. Just... curious.

  Kael met her gaze. Didn’t blink.

  She moved on.

  Annabelle nudged him under the desk.

  He glanced over.

  “You good?” she mouthed.

  Kael nodded.

  But deep in his chest, the pressure hadn’t eased. If anything, the room felt heavier.

  Like the building itself was pressing down.

  Like something underground was waiting for him to notice it again.