The Academy dorms were dark.
The windows were empty, the courtyards silent, the usual bustle of students and faculty reduced to a ghostly stillness.
The emergency lights along the pathways cast long, distorted shadows across the grass, and the only sound was the distant hum of generators and the occasional cry of a bird.
Hoshimi stood at the edge of the tree line, his body pressed against the rough bark of an ancient oak.
His mana signature suppressed to a whisper, his physical form nothing more than a faint shimmer in the darkness.
Beside him, Neila crouched low, her white coat abandoned in favor of dark, practical clothing.
"Third floor," she murmured. "That window. The one with the crack in the frame. I left it unlocked the last time I snuck out."
"When did you even sneak out?"
"Months ago."
"Are you sure it hasn't been fixed?"
"The maintenance staff is lazy. They never check the windows."
The campus sprawled before them, a maze of Gothic architecture and modern additions, its familiar landmarks rendered strange by the shifting shadows of a crescent moon.
The main hall. The training grounds. The courtyard with its shattered fountain, still unrepaired from the battle that had nearly destroyed it.
She glanced at him. "Your invisibility. How long can you maintain it?"
"Indefinitely as long as I don't use my mana for anything else."
"At the very least, you'll be useful for this."
He turned to face her. "I'll go in through the front. Use my ability to bypass any guards. Get Kira. You take the window."
She moved before he could respond. Her small frame darted across the open space between the tree line and the dormitory wall, her footsteps silent on the frost-covered grass.
She reached the base of the building and began to climb, not using the drainpipe or the window ledges, but the air itself; certain imperfections in the wind act as footholds when mana is applied.
Hoshimi watched her ascend.
She moved like water, like shadow, her body finding purchase where there should have been none.
Within seconds, she had reached the third floor. The cracked window slid open with a soft hiss, and she disappeared inside.
[Holy shit, she's so fast]
Hoshimi turned toward the front entrance.
His body dissolved into absence. The world shifted, colors muting, edges softening.
He moved through the front entrance. The doors were locked, but the keycard he'd stolen from Reina's office months ago still worked. The lock clicked open with a soft, mechanical sound, and he slipped inside.
The corridors stretched before him, familiar and strange all at once. The same chrome doors.
The same humming fluorescent lights. The same scuff marks on the linoleum that he'd memorized during countless walks during the Zenith.
He passed closed doors. Empty rooms. The ghosts of students who had fled after the invasion and never returned. The Academy felt like a tomb. A monument to everything that had been lost.
Kira's room was at the end of the hall.
The nameplate was still there. KIRA AAMON in neat, silver letters. He raised his hand to knock, then stopped.
Instead, he let his invisibility fade, just slightly, just enough to be visible, and tried the handle.
It was unlocked.
The door swung open.
Kira was sitting on her bed.
Her knees were drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, her dirty brown hair falling across her face in tangled strands.
The room around her was a mess, clothes scattered across the floor, books piled in corners, the remnants of half-eaten meals on the desk. The curtains were drawn.
The lights were off. The only illumination came from the small lamp on her nightstand, casting the room in shades of gold and shadow.
Her eyes fluttered open. Her expression shifted, moving from blank to confused to alert to something else entirely. Something that looked almost like hope.
"Hoshimi?"
"Hey." He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."
She was off the bed in an instant. Her arms wrapped around him, her face pressed against his chest, her whole body trembling with the force of something that might have been relief or might have been fear or might have been some impossible combination of both.
"You're okay. You're okay. I thought- something happened to you."
She stopped. Her hand found his sleeve and gripped it tight, as if she was afraid he'd dissolve if she let go.
"I'm here," he said quietly. "I'm here."
She nodded frantically. "Okay. Okay. Good. That's good. I was so scared. I didn't know where you we-"
"Anyways, I knew it," she breathed. "I knew you'd come back. I knew it. I knew you wouldn't leave me. I knew—" Her voice cracked. "I knew you wouldn't leave me behind."
His hand found her hair, his fingers threading through the tangled strands with a gentleness that felt foreign. He smiled at her, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes but were tugging at his eyelids.
"I know what she said." He placed his hand over hers. "I need to tell you something."
She looked up at him. Her eyes were wet, but they were steady. "What is it?"
"The government is going to declare me a rogue. Maybe they already have. The families are coming for me. I can't stay here. I can't stay anywhere that's safe. I'm leaving. Tonight." He met her gaze. "I want you to come with me."
She didn't hesitate.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay. I understand." She stepped back, her hands falling to her sides. "When do we leave?"
Hoshimi studied her face. "You're not asking any questions."
"I don't need to."
"Kira." He reached out, his hand finding her shoulder. "Do you understand what this could mean?" He paused. "Your life here will be over."
Her expression didn't change. "I know."
"Then why are you so willing to come?"
"Because you're giving me a choice."
The words hung in the air between them.
"You're giving me a choice," she repeated. "I don't see how that could be worse than living here, at the very least being there with you… I don't know what to say, I don't know what I was trying to say. But my choice is to be with you." Her voice was steady now. Clearer than he'd ever heard it.
Her eyes met his. "I want to be in control of myself, I don't want to be a liability, I want to control my own decisions. I want to do things myself."
He was silent for a long moment. The fluorescent lights hummed. The curtains rustled in a breeze he couldn't feel. Somewhere in the distance, a door opened and closed.
He said quietly. "I need you as a bargaining chip. We need to contact the Leviathans, and your connection to your father—"
"I know." Kira's voice was calm. "I will help you as much as I can, it's my choice and I'll do what I want to."
"You don't have to."
"I don't care, I want to do this." She reached out and took his hand. Her grip was warm, steady. The grip of someone who had finally stopped trembling. "I want to choose. And I want to choose to be with you."
Hoshimi stared at her. Her eyes were clear. Her voice was steady. Her hand in his was warm and real and utterly, completely certain.
"Pack what you can carry," he said finally.
She nodded and disappeared into her room. He heard the sound of drawers opening, of fabric rustling, of the small, frantic movements of someone gathering the pieces of a life she was about to leave behind.
He turned away, giving her privacy.
His hand hovered over the door to his own room.
He stopped. His eyes fell on his own room. Room 307. The door was slightly ajar.
He pushed it open. The room was exactly as he'd left it.
The bed was unmade, the desk was cluttered with papers and books and the accumulated debris. And in the drawer of the nightstand, still hidden, still waiting, was the black box.
He crossed to the desk. His hand hovered over the drawer where he'd hidden Audrey's black box.
He closed the drawer.
Neila was waiting for them outside. She'd changed into traveling clothes, dark pants, a heavy coat, a bag slung over her shoulder that bulged with documents and valuables.
Her blonde hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail, and her blue eyes were bright with something that might have been excitement or might have been adrenaline.
"Got everything?" Hoshimi asked.
"Everything I could carry. The rest will have to wait." She glanced past him, at the open door and the empty corridor beyond. "Where's the girl?"
"Here." Kira appeared behind him, a small backpack slung over her shoulders. Her face was pale, but her eyes were steady. "I'm ready."
Neila studied her for a moment. Then she nodded, a single, sharp motion. "Good. Let's go. We've already stayed too long."
They climbed out the window, one by one. Neila went first, her movements swift and practiced. Kira followed, her fingers trembling but her resolve unwavering. Hoshimi came last, his body dissolving into invisibility as he dropped to the grass below.
They met at the edge of the tree line.
"Vert's still at the safehouse," Neila said quietly. "We need to get back before dawn. The patrols will be heavier during the day."
"I grabbed what I could. The rest can burn for all I care." She glanced at Kira. "Good. Let's move before—"
"Before what?"
The voice came from the darkness.
Reina stepped out. Her ginger hair was wild around her face, loose and tangled, she stood atop a roof, staring down with her cold eyes. Colder than he'd ever seen them.
"Miss Reina," he said. "We ne-"
"Hoshimi." Her voice was different. Cold. Flat. The voice of a stranger. "I knew you would come back here. This will just make things easier"
Her voice was flat. Empty. The voice of someone reading from a script. She raised her hand, and the light that gathered in her palm was not the warm, golden glow of healing.
"Hoshimi Shirogane. By order of the Witch's Department, you are to be executed."
The words hung in the air between them.
"Why?" The word came out before he could stop it. His voice cracked on the single syllable. "You raised me. You trained me. You told me—" He stopped. Swallowed. "You told me that before your position, you were my-."
"I am a government agent." Her voice was steel wrapped in ice. "Before I am your mother. I am a tool of the state. That is my purpose. That is my function. That is what I am." Her gold eyes met his violet ones.
He stared at her. At the cold, empty mask of her face. At the light burning in her palm.
[This must be a bluff, there's no way-]
Bang.
Crimson.
Black Scene.
Blood ran down his arm, from his shoulder, to his wrist.
The revolver in her hand was smoking from its barrel.