After the "incident" in the training room, life at the Academy settled into a rhythmic, deceptive calm.
For Kaelen, the daily routine became a focused grind of metal and energy.
Metallic assimilation was no longer a terrifying ordeal; it became a habit.
After ingesting the red-core liquid, the amount of effort required to process metals reduced drastically.
Every morning started with the intake of refined slugs, and every evening ended with his Crimson Threads weaving through the Star-Silver stored in his abdominal cavity to make it more familiar with his ribbons.
The "hunger" of Redveil was kept at bay, pacified by the constant flow of high-grade materials that reinforced his internal slots.
The Year of the Titan
Kaelen threw himself into his training with a silent, relentless intensity.
While other students played or socialized, Kaelen was in the gravity chambers or at his father's forge, swinging the Pulsar Hammer to vent his excess pressure.
By the end of his second year, the results were undeniable:
Cultivation Level: He surged from Level 15 to Level 30.
The Band's Diminishing Returns: The high-yield energy band he had won in the previous year—once his most prized possession—had become a relic.
The annual competition came around again, but as a senior of the junior block, Kaelen couldn't participate.
Without his "accidental" dominance, the spotlight shifted, and a talented student from Blue House claimed the top prize.
Kaelen watched from the sidelines, unbothered; he knew his real progress was hidden beneath his skin.
He helped juniors and seniors create the list of participating students, but he understood that results ultimately depended upon the students themselves.
A Rare Family Reunion
The end of the school year brought a full month of break, and with it, a rare occurrence at the Veyron Tower.
The heavy atmosphere of the house lightened as two legendary figures arrived for a visit.
Kaelen's grandfather, General Valerius, had temporarily left his post at the Aegis Fortress.
Beside him stood a woman of sharp, commanding elegance: Grandmother Elara.
As a high-ranking member of the Federation Council, she was arguably the busiest person in the entire Veyron lineage, her days spent navigating the complex politics of the galaxy.
"Look at you, Kaelen," Elara said, her eyes softening as she patted his shoulder.
She could feel the vibration of the Star-Silver within him, responding to her own high-level aura.
"You're carrying more dense ribbon networks in DNA than most soldiers I see in the capital. You've done well to keep your balance."
"He's more than just balanced, Elara," Valerius boomed, his hand resting heavily on Kaelen's head.
"He's like a mammoth. A little more power and he'll be a beast on the battlefields."
For the first time in a year, the house felt like a home rather than a training camp.
They spent the afternoons in the garden, with Lyra and Elara discussing Council matters in hushed tones while Alrin and Valerius debated the merits of different furnace temperatures.
Kaelen sat between them, enjoying the peace.
However, he noticed his grandmother's eyes frequently darting to the sky, and his grandfather's hand never strayed far from his communication device.
Even here, in the heart of the Federation, the shadows of the Void and the secrets the Ancestors were guarding felt closer than ever to his grandparents.
[PROXIMITY ALERT: FABRIC-LEVEL SIGNATURES DETECTED,] Redveil whispered, sensing the latent power in his grandparents.
[CURRENT ENVIRONMENT: HIGHLY STABLE. ADVISING KAELEN TO UTILIZE THIS CALM TO DEEPEN THE NEURAL ANCHOR.]
Kaelen closed his eyes, leaning into the warmth of the sun.
He was a Level 30 Thread-user with the internal structure of a Dreadnought, surrounded by the strongest people he knew.
For one month, he would just be a grandson.