Lucien Falkner never allowed himself to relax. Not even in a school filled with ordinary students.
He had been trained to recognize patterns—movements, shifts in behavior, subtle cues that most people ignored. And right now, he could feel the shift. The way certain gazes lingered too long. The way some students moved as if pretending not to notice him when, in reality, they were paying attention.
Something was off.
Not just because of last night's encounter with his old rival, but because he could feel the weight of unseen eyes watching him.
---
Evelyn Mercer had always been sharp. She prided herself on being able to read people, to notice things others overlooked. But Lucien was unreadable.
And today, he was different.
She tapped her pen against the edge of her book, pretending to focus on her notes, but her eyes flicked toward him. He sat at the back of the classroom, silent as always, but there was a tension in his posture. His movements, usually fluid and effortless, were more controlled—like a blade that had been drawn but not yet swung.
"You've been looking at him all morning."
Lena's voice broke her focus. Evelyn turned, seeing her friend smirking knowingly.
"Just observing."
"Right, 'observing' Lucien Falkner. Sounds like a hobby at this point."
Evelyn rolled her eyes, shutting her book. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm just saying." Lena leaned on her desk. "You ever get the feeling that he's hiding something?"
Evelyn hesitated, just for a second.
"I don't think he's just hiding something. I think he's running from something."
And for the first time, Lena didn't laugh.
---
After school, Lucien didn't head straight home. Instead, he took a detour.
A quiet alley, away from the crowded streets. He leaned against the cold brick wall and pulled out his phone. The number he dialed was one he had memorized long ago. He rarely used it. Only when necessary.
The call connected.
"Report."
"I had a visitor last night."
A pause. Then, the voice on the other end spoke again, calm but sharp.
"Identify."
"Someone from before. Not a threat… yet."
Another pause.
"Do you require assistance?"
Lucien's grip on the phone tightened slightly.
"No. I'll handle it."
The call ended.
Lucien exhaled slowly, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He had expected that response, but something about it didn't sit right.
"They're keeping their distance. Why?"
He had a feeling he wouldn't like the answer.
---
That night, Lucien kept to his usual routine. A jog through the quieter streets, a stop at the empty park, movements designed to clear his mind. But tonight, he wasn't alone.
He had noticed the presence earlier. Someone was following him. Carefully.
Most would've missed it. The slight change in the air. The faintest shift in sound. But Lucien was trained to notice.
So he didn't react. Not immediately.
He let them think they had the advantage, waiting until the perfect moment—
Then he moved.
Spinning on his heel, he struck out with lightning speed, aiming for where his pursuer should've been.
But they were fast.
Lucien's strike was blocked effortlessly, his wrist caught in a firm grip. He barely had time to take in the attacker's form before they retaliated, a precise kick aimed at his ribs.
He dodged, countering instantly. Their movements were sharp, disciplined. This wasn't a common street thug.
This was someone trained.
The fight was quick, a series of rapid exchanges, both of them testing the other. Until, suddenly, the attacker leaped back, landing with cat-like grace.
Then, they laughed.
"Still sharp as ever, Falkner."
Lucien didn't lower his guard. His eyes remained locked on them, muscles coiled, ready.
"Who sent you?" he asked.
The figure tilted their head, almost amused. "Oh, I think you already know."
Lucien narrowed his eyes.
This wasn't just about him anymore.
His opponent smirked, stepping back into the shadows.
"Be seeing you, Falkner."
And just like that, they were gone.
Lucien exhaled, rolling his shoulder. His pulse was steady, but his mind wasn't. He had fought countless battles before, but this one felt different.
Not because of the fight itself—but because of what it meant.
Whoever sent that person wasn't just testing him.
They were warning him.
And Lucien didn't take warnings lightly.
End of Chapter 20.