The evaluation hall hadn't fully recovered from the shockwave of the last impact when silence rolled across the room like settling dust. Students lingered at the edges of the arena, whispers chasing themselves along the walls as Orin stood in the center—breathing hard, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that belied how close he'd come to collapse.
His clothes were torn, his arms bruised, but there was something steadier in his posture. A clarity that hadn't been there before. His senses still felt too sharp, too open, as though some part of him remained half-awake from that surge of instinct that had flared during the fight.
Yoren stepped forward with the resignation of a man who'd witnessed enough chaos for one morning.
"That concludes the evaluation of Orin Slain," he announced. His voice carried through the chamber, stern as ever. "All three combatants have been—"
His eyes drifted toward the far end of the arena, where Kael still lay spread across the floor like an abandoned coat.
Yoren narrowed his eyes. "Kael," he said, voice flattening. "How long do you intend to keep pretending?"
A soft groan rose from Kael's direction. Not the groan of someone who had been thrown unconscious into the ground—just the groan of someone who had been caught.
"…Man," Kael muttered, lifting one hand weakly as if in apology, "I was hoping you'd let me commit to the role."
Starke stared with his mouth wide open. "Ain't—there's no way. You were faking?"
Kael sat up, brushing off his shirt with irritated flicks. "Faking? Nah. I was just… resting with dramatic effect." He rose easily—far too easily for someone who'd supposedly been knocked out cold. "Besides, the kid deserved a moment."
Orin blinked at him, chest still rising with the remnants of exertion. His instincts had been pinging since the moment his palm hit Kael's chest during the slam. There had been strength there—strength Kael hadn't used.
Wake rubbed the back of his neck. "I knew something was off."
"No you didn't," Starke whispered. "You just guessing in the aftermath."
Kael dusted off the last of the arena dirt and approached Orin with a casual, unbothered stride. Gone was the fierce focus he'd shown during the fight. In its place was a relaxed grin—the grin of someone who treated combat like a game he was already winning.
He stopped in front of Orin and extended a hand.
"Good hit," Kael said. "Name's Kael."
Orin hesitated. Only for a breath. Then he took the man's hand.
What happened next didn't happen gradually.
It snapped into place like a blade pulled from a sheath.
Kael's skin rippled beneath Orin's grip—shifting as though the bones underneath rearranged themselves. The air around them thickened with an unfamiliar energy as Kael's hair lengthened into soft brown strands, his muscles restructured, his cheekbones rose, and his entire frame broadened.
His skin turned a smooth, pale gray.
The man who lifted his head wasn't Kael.
He wasn't even close.
"Name's Lyf Vault," he said, grin widening into something bright and mischievous. "Second in command under General Lox. Pleasure."
Starke made a noise that wasn't human.
Wake's brows lifted, inch by inch. "That… is not what I expected."
Yoren let out a slow exhale. "You could have revealed yourself in a less theatrical manner."
Lyf shrugged, spreading his arms. "Where's the fun in that? If I'm going to surprise everyone, I'm going to commit."
Orin didn't speak. He couldn't. His instincts roared to attention—every nerve alive with warning, curiosity, and something else. Recognition. Not of Lyf specifically… but of the kind of presence that stood before him.
A Diamond-tier Monari.
That pressure—soft but unmistakable—felt like standing too close to a wildfire pretending to be a camp lantern.
In the back of Orin's mind, Kahn-Ra snapped awake like claws scraping stone.
What is he?
Orin didn't look away from Lyf. You tell me. Aren't you supposed to sense everything before I do?
Do not mock me now. Kahn-Ra's mental tone was sharp, tense. I sensed nothing. Not even a shadow of him.
Orin's heartbeat stumbled. How—?
There are rare Diamond-born who can conceal themselves from others, Kahn-Ra growled, pacing in Orin's thoughts. It is a mutation of nature itself. I have only known a few of their kind. But this one—this one is skilled. Too skilled.
Orin swallowed. Is that… bad?
I do not like surprises.The statement vibrated with disdain.Especially when the surprise shifts his face like water.
Orin felt sweat prick the back of his neck.
Lyf clapped him on the shoulder. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Relax, kid. I'm still the same charming fellow you slammed into the floor."
Orin stiffened. "Did you… let me win?"
Lyf's grin softened into something sly. "It was an evaluation, not a battle. And you handled the beginning exactly how we hoped you would." He wiggled his fingers. "Besides, I had to let you enjoy your big moment."
Starke leaned toward Wake. "He talks like someone who doesn't care about consequences."
Wake nodded. "Which means he's dangerous."
Lyf turned suddenly—eyes landing on Kahn-Ra sitting by Orin's ankle.
"A Northborn," Lyf said, sounding delighted. "I've heard stories. Thought you would be… bigger." His eyes wandered down Kahn-Ra's small bobcat form. "And scarier."
Kahn-Ra froze.
Orin felt the mental growl vibrate like thunder.
I will bite him.
Please don't bite him, Orin begged.
He dishonors my stature.
You are three feet tall, Orin reminded him.
Size is a matter of perspective.
Orin sighed under his breath.
Lyf tilted his head. "You two talk through the mind, right? Cute talent. Rare."
Orin gave him a flat look. "Is that… normal to you?"
Lyf laughed. "Normal? No. Interesting? Yes."
Wake and Starke stepped closer.
"That's Lyf Vault," Wake said quietly. "I've heard about him before."
Starke nodded, awe and confusion mixing on his face. "If he's here… that means Orin's the real deal."
Lyf, hearing them without showing it, stretched until his joints cracked. "General Lox wanted me to evaluate you," he said lightly. "See if the rumors were exaggerations, or if you were actually worth his attention."
"And what did you decide?" Orin asked.
Lyf jabbed a thumb into Orin's chest. "That you're worth my time. Which isn't easy to earn, trust me."
Orin blinked. "My… your time?"
Lyf took a step back, folding his arms behind his head. "Yep. I'm going to train you. Personally."
Starke sputtered. "You can't just say that like it's nothing!"
Wake frowned thoughtfully. "Why now?"
Lyf's smile thinned into something sharper, something more serious beneath the joking exterior.
"Because I saw a spark," he said. "A rhythm in you. Something primal. Something controlled only by hesitation." He lowered his voice. "You need guidance before that spark becomes a wildfire."
Yoren nodded once. "And you're certain he's ready for your training?"
"Oh, definitely." Lyf winked. "Anyone who slams me into the ground—even when I let him—deserves lessons."
Starke whispered, "He scares me."
Wake replied, "He should."
Lyf reached out suddenly, placing a hand on Orin's cheek—not harshly, but with a strange tenderness that didn't fit his chaotic energy.
"You remind me of someone," Lyf murmured. "Someone stubborn. Someone strong. Someone who needed direction before he burned himself alive."
Orin felt his chest tighten. "Who?"
Lyf smiled. "Me."
Orin blinked.
Wake blinked.
Starke whispered, "He's insane."
Lyf clapped his hands once, breaking the tension. "Training starts tomorrow at dawn. Don't pack heavy." He gestured lazily. "Actually, don't pack anything at all. You won't need it."
Orin frowned. "Where are we going?"
"That's a surprise." Lyf grinned, unhelpful. "You'll like it. Or you'll hate it. Either way, we'll have fun."
Kahn-Ra growled mentally.Fun is not the word I would choose.
Orin muttered silently, Please do not antagonize him.
He insulted my size.
He insulted everyone's size, Orin countered.
That shut Kahn-Ra up.Barely.
Lyf turned to leave, waving a hand over his shoulder. "See you in the morning, kid!"
Yoren called after him, "Vault. Don't break him."
"No promises!"
Starke looked at Orin with a mixture of dread and admiration. "Bro… you just got picked up by a man who can change his whole skeleton like a coat."
Wake placed a hand on Orin's shoulder. "You'll be fine. Probably."
Orin watched Lyf walk away, a strange weight settling in his stomach.
His hand still tingled where Lyf had shaken it.
In the silence that followed, Kahn-Ra gave him one last thought.
I do not trust him.
Orin exhaled slowly, eyes lingering on Lyf's retreating figure.
I don't know if I do either.
And yet, something deep inside him—buried beneath fear, instinct, and uncertainty—whispered the truth.
This was only the beginning.