The Obsidian Court was soaked in shadow and morning mist.
Black stone tiles, lacquered with condensation, reflected the colours of dawn: faded gold, trembling violet, muted blue. Hundreds of cadets stood in formation—silent, armourless, exposed beneath the gaze of the six Academy banners flapping high above them.
At the front of the procession, the Cohort Leads called names.
Rainmothers in sea-glass robes stood alongside Thoughtshapers stiff with discipline. Qi-Forged cadets hummed breathwork into silence. Glyphseers traced faint symbols against their palms.
The Hybrids stood last.
Ten of them, spaced farther apart than the others, some flanked by med-bots or resonance monitors. One had an implant shimmer at the back of their neck, blinking crimson. Another twitched with suppressed magic—barely audible to Kai, but there.
And then there was him.
Kai "Soulfire" Mercer, chin tilted just slightly upward, eyes forward.
If this was performance, he would not flinch.
A sudden shift in the atmosphere. Not magic. Expectation.
From the eastern archway, President Li Wei emerged—tall, robed in unmarked grey, the Luminary Accord's emblem hanging like a scar across his chest. At his side marched three more figures: Deputy Commander Amina Okoro of the Echobinders, Vice Commander Hao Ling of the Qi-Forged, and Vice Commander Orion Mercer of the Hybrid Program.
Orion's eyes slid past Kai like he didn't exist.
A bell tone struck—no source visible—and all cadets dropped to one knee in perfect sync. Except Kai.
For a breath, he hesitated—then lowered, matching the others. A second too late.
Orion noticed. So did Jian Li, who said nothing, but held Kai's delay like a fault line in his gaze.
President Li's voice rose:
"The world you stand in is not united. Not by nation. Not by history. Not by war. Only by resonance. And you."
"Each of you awakened differently. Some by blood. Others by legacy. Some, like those behind me..."
He turned, glancing once at Orion.
"...by other means."
"But all of you now bind yourselves not to bloodlines. Not to Orders. To one thing alone—the Accord."
He lifted a hand, and the wind dropped. The banners stopped fluttering.
"Repeat after me. In truth. Or leave now."
Hundreds of voices joined, staggered but rising.
"I swear to uphold the Accord."
"To shield the line."
"To carry resonance where it breaks."
"To remember what we were, and shape what we must become."
Some cadets spoke with reverence. Others with precision.
Nandi stammered twice, caught between syllables. But her final line vibrated through the air like truth strained into form.
Amara said the vow without flinching—each word like ink pressed into stone.
Izel whispered hers, half-lost to ancient memory.
Jian's voice was faultless—too practiced.
Sarika's was soaked in storm.
Kai's voice was the last—quiet, burning, and not for them. For himself.
Li Wei lowered his hand.
"Stand."
They did.
"Dismissed."
But Kai didn't move.
Because something under the court shifted—just a tremble, just for him.
A rhythm. From beneath the stone.
Like something waiting... for the next word.