The black limo purred smoothly as it pulled away from Cresthaven Academy, dust from the road still swirling in the air behind them.
Inside, Marcus leaned forward, gripping his phone with one hand while frowning at the screen.
The restaurant security footage—the one they'd dissected in the camera room—was playing again, the hooded figure flickering in and out of the shadows with almost unreal speed.
Lena, sprawled across the leather seat with legs stretched and arms crossed, watched him sideways, fidgeting with her fingers on her elbow like she was bored.
Marcus paused the video right as the dart shot toward Lena and turned his head to her.
"Hey, Lena," he said, voice deep with a hint of disbelief, "did that kid really clock where the assassin came from just watching this once?" He scratched his white beard with his free hand, eyes still glued to the screen.
"Yeah," she replied, tone dry but solid. "Caught it at normal speed and all. Even pointed out the shadows before the guards had a clue what was up." She paused, glancing out the window for a sec before facing her grandpa. "Weird, but handy."
Marcus let out a low whistle, slumping back as he turned off the phone screen and shoved it into his jacket pocket.
"Then that kid's got some serious chops," he said, voice turning graver. A small grin tugged at his face, and he crossed his arms, eyeing Lena with a raised brow. "The good kind of talent."
Lena frowned, tilting her head.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked, curious but with a dash of impatience. She straightened up a bit, dropping her fidgeting to give him her full focus.
Marcus stroked his beard again, thoughtful, before answering.
"Look," he said, leaning forward with elbows on his knees, "think about it. He pulls that off without breaking a sweat…"
He paused, pointing at her for emphasis.
"Spotting tiny details that zip by, stuff the average eye wouldn't catch—that's not normal. That kid's got razor-sharp sight. Reflexes, perception, whatever you wanna call it, it's way above average."
Lena blinked, caught off guard, and sank back with a sigh.
"Not normal?"
She crossed her legs and ran a hand through her white hair, letting it flop messily over one shoulder.
"I figured, I dunno, coming from a clan, that'd be standard. Don't you think it's some kinda training?"
Marcus chuckled low, shaking his head.
"Don't know many folks with that level of natural knack, but speaking of clans… I dug a little into him after he showed us those pills."
Lena shot upright again, golden eyes going wide.
"What?" she yelped, voice pitching up as she leaned toward him. "What'd you find?" Her hands gripped the seat, squeezing the leather as she stared him down.
Marcus raised a hand to settle her, grinning a bit at her excitement.
"Easy, kiddo," he said, voice warm but firm. "Didn't get much, but looks like Rian got the boot from his clan."
"Kicked out?" Lena echoed, tilting her head like she couldn't buy it. "Why? What'd he do?"
Marcus shrugged, scratching his beard with a slow drag.
"Not sure," he admitted, voice dipping. "Records are fuzzy. But what I did dig up is that someone at Cresthaven footed the bill to get him there. Seems they spotted his talent and yanked him outta wherever he was."
Lena blinked again, chewing on that.
"But why'd his clan let him go?" she asked, tone turning serious. She edged forward, eyes glinting with interest. "If he's that talented, wouldn't they wanna keep him?"
"That's the part I can't figure," he said, voice pensive. "Could be a bunch of things: clan drama, something he pulled, or maybe…"
He paused, frowning as he glanced out the window for a beat.
"Those red pills for controlling his powers… there's something off about 'em. Even the docs couldn't pin down what they are after testing."
"What do you mean by that?" she said, voice rising as she leaned closer. "What's weird about the pills?"
◇◆◇
The sun had already dipped behind Cresthaven's buildings, leaving the sky a dark gray.
Rian sat on a wooden bench near the main entrance, legs crossed.
The cool breeze tousled his hair, and the distant chatter of students filled the quiet.
Across from him, Javier—the burly guard in the blue uniform—stepped out of a nearby booth, holding a couple things in his hands.
"Here you go," Javier said, voice deep but rushed.
He handed Rian an ID card with his name and a folded paper, bending slightly as he spoke.
"Sorry for the wait—had to double-check everything. Welcome to Cresthaven."
Before Rian could reply, the guard was already turning, scratching his neck and muttering something about "too much work" as he hustled back to the booth.
Rian blinked, staring at the card and paper in his hands. Then he scratched his cheek before unfolding the paper carefully.
The print was small but clear:
[Dormitory 17-B. Orientation ceremony: tomorrow, 8:00 a.m.]
A hand-drawn map sat at the bottom, with crooked lines tracing the path from the entrance to the dorms.
'Guess crashing after stuffing my face wouldn't hurt…' Rian thought, glancing up at the academy buildings.