Kaz forced himself to focus, shoving aside how weird Elsie had been acting. In front of him stood a moderately sized building, plain and blocky. To its right, two fields stretched out—one lined with numbers and markings, obviously for some sport. The other looked more like a resting area, scattered with those weird tables that had chairs stuck to them. Kaz didn't know what they were called, and he didn't care. Labels didn't matter. Learning how to survive his next Rift did.
He stood before the heavily fortified gates, painted a muted blue, flanked by turrets on either side. The place looked more like an armoury or a military outpost than anything else. But it made sense. With thousands—maybe hundreds of thousands—being marked by the Curse, the world needed structure. Control.
Kaz stood at the edge of the school grounds. Beside him was a boy who looked about his age. Kaz glanced over, trying to get a better look. The boy's short silver hair stood out—strange, almost too clean. No... it looked natural, down to the roots and edges. Maybe a result of his first Rift. Kaz had heard the stories—survivors sometimes came back changed. Physically. But this guy looked like he'd undergone a full transformation. The hair. The eyes. Bright amber, almost glowing. Unsettling.
The boy looked up. He seemed to be listening to something through his earbuds. When he turned around, his expression was blank, as if nothing fazed him. He sighed quietly, his dull amber eyes settling on Kaz. There was no recognition or curiosity—just a tired sort of awareness, like he'd already seen too much.
"Do I have something on my face?" he asked, voice flat but not unfriendly.
Kaz instantly became flustered.Shit, did he notice me staring?
It threw him off—he was usually good at going unnoticed. Or at least, he liked to think so. He'd lied about his age to keep a job, kept his performance steady—never too good, never too bad—just enough to stay under the radar. So why now? Why was he suddenly seen?
He stumbled over his words, embarrassed. "Sorry, I... noticed your hair."
It came out awkwardly. The silver-haired guy probably thought he was some kind of weirdo. But instead of mocking him, the boy just touched his hair, then pointed at Kaz's.
"Speak for yourself," he said.
Kaz blinked. What's that supposed to mean?
Was his hair... a different colour?
Kaz frowned. He hadn't noticed. He'd been too focused on learning his Trait, and once he got home, he hadn't bothered to look in a mirror. So now he had no idea what colour his hair even was. Hopefully, it wasn't anything weird.
Silver would be cool. Or black—black would be safe.
He was just about to ask the silver-haired boy when he realised the guy was already walking through the massive gates, earbuds back in, not looking back.
Kaz stood there for a moment, wondering what the academy would be like. How was it set up? What kind of people would be inside? Important questions—ones he should've been thinking harder about.
But then, out of nowhere, a wave of exhaustion hit him.
Weird. He'd gotten more than eight hours of sleep last night, and it wasn't like he'd done anything too draining this morning. Still, his limbs felt heavy, his eyes dull. He blinked it off and decided not to dwell on it.
Shrugging it away, Kaz stepped through the gate.
He tried to recall the classes Elsie had signed him up for. He hated to admit it, but she probably knew what she was doing. He needed those classes. The Rift worlds were dangerous—unforgiving. If he didn't learn how to survive them, he wouldn't last long.
Kaz walked through the academy's bright hallway, eyes flicking over the clean walls and polished floors. He'd have to admire it some other time—right now, he needed to focus.
This was his first time in a school-like setting in a long while. No idea where to go. So he made a quick decision: follow the silver-haired boy. It was either that or risk getting completely lost. And becoming a laughingstock? Not an option.
If he was being honest, Kaz didn't want to be noticed at all. But if everyone here were as sharp as that guy, he might be in trouble.
He just hoped the other teenagers weren't too hard to deal with. The Truth was, he didn't know how teens acted.
Back in the Rift, Ryuma had been the only person close to his age, and even he didn't act like a teenager. Ryuma fought and hunted monsters like it was all he knew. No jokes. No drama. Just survival.
That was the real reason Kaz felt so uptight and awkward.
He was pretty sure the silver-haired boy had noticed him following—but the guy didn't say anything. Didn't look back. Didn't even react.
Maybe he just didn't care.
There was something robotic about him. Like if he didn't perceive you as a threat, you simply didn't register. No reason to engage. No reason to worry.
At least, that's what Kaz told himself.
They finally arrived at their destination.
It was massive—maybe a gym? Kaz wasn't sure, but whatever it was, it was packed. Dozens of people stood in clusters across the room, all around his age. But there was something… formal about them. The way they stood, the way they talked. Confident. Controlled.
Probably clan kids, Kaz guessed. Born into this madness. Trained for it.
He was scanning the crowd when his stomach dropped.
Leaning against the far wall, eyes closed like he didn't have a care in the world, was someone Kaz had hoped to never see again.
The white, spiky hair with a blood-red patch on the right side. Pale, almost ivory skin. Even relaxed, he gave off a pressure that made Kaz's instincts scream.
Ryuma.
Kaz's uneasy ally. The one who had nearly gotten him killed halfway through the Rift. The one who fought like a weapon pretending to be a person.
If Ryuma was here… Kaz would have to be careful. Very careful. He couldn't afford to be noticed. Not by him.