It wasn't just the temperature now, but the tone of the room had dropped. The failed vote had shortened their time to forty minutes, and Ruben felt the press of every second. It was no longer the quiet patience of a long-haul observation. It was pressure, thick and low, humming under his skin.
He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed as Darius stood rigid across the space, and Anya sat off-center, legs crossed, nervously tracing the seam of her sleeves with her thumb. But even with them in view, Ruben could feel something missing, or more precisely, someone, and the realization came with a delayed jolt, like getting a reminder of something on your phone and then when you open your phone to check it, you forget what you opened your phone for.
Elijah. Still here, still sitting, still wrapped in that dark scarf not revealing himself. Ruben knew about Ego tools. Not a great amount, but from what he knew, some Ego users, instead of gaining a normal Ego like he has, would gain a tool that they can summon, the tool has powers unique to the individual.
And then there were Ego tools like that pen that Elea had dropped for the voting, he didn't know how those came about, but there was so much new in this world that he had to take in minor details like that he thought to leave until he were a Paladin.
But now, he thinks that Elijah's scarf is supposed to be some kind of Ego tool. Because it was the only thing that stood out on his person. It dimmed his presence like smoke drifting across glass. Ruben knew he was there of course, but if he was not actively thinking about him, his attention slipped. It was like Elijah vanished from conscious thought entirely.
Ruben figured it had to be designed to obscure the senses and maybe even cognition itself.
But that brought up another problem, why were the two of them in the same group. He knew that these exams prefer to make sure that people from the same institute were split up, because of reasons like this. Ruben knows that Elijah isn't the Paladin, and Elijah would know that he isn't either. Maybe it was a logistical error.
What mattered was the atmosphere, it was tense, subdued, uncertain. Unlike the last round, there were no outbursts, no finger-pointing, no alliances forming through accusation. The failure had sobered them. Darius now stood with his arms folded, but his eyes roamed constantly, flicking between the others with a guarded suspicion. Anya, by contrast, had retreated into a defensive stillness, her previous composure cracked by the sudden drop in time.
And Elijah… well, Elijah was still unreadable, his form blurred at the edges of Ruben's perception like static on an old screen. Ruben exhaled softly. This couldn't go on in silence. Not this round.
He pushed off the wall and stepped closer into the center of the space. Darius looked up, brow raised. Anya's head tilted, wary. Ruben didn't speak right away. Instead, he looked from one face to the next, gauging the temperature. There was no need for confrontation now.
That tactic had already proven volatile.
Instead, he'd take the quieter path, curiosity disguised as conversation. He caught Darius' eye and gave him the smallest nod. "Why do you want to become a Paladin?" he asked him. A question spoken like one would ask a friend about their favourite food. He was actually interested in this one.
Darius blinked, caught off guard, then smiled. There was no hesitation in it. "Simple," he said with a shrug. "It's the best gig out there. I get to punch stuff, burn off steam, and maybe, if I don't die too early, I might do something grand enough to get my name in the books. That's good for me." He cracked his knuckles absently, like the thought alone made him itch for a fight. Ruben didn't judge it. He had learned that kind of simplicity was far too common. The world needed people who fought because they wanted to.
Ruben turned to Anya next. She tensed slightly, but he didn't press. Just let the silence hang until she filled it. "I… I want to help," she said finally, her voice soft but steady. "I have power now. It only feels right to use it for something good to the people in this nation. To give back. That's what people like me should do." She spoke with conviction, but Ruben felt a twinge of doubt slide into her tone near the end, like the words were ones she had said many times before to others and to herself. Like she was trying to believe them.
It was a noble answer, maybe even a real one, but Ruben felt a familiar discomfort coil in his gut. It was the kind of moral simplicity that society loved to push on Ego users, fit yourself into the archetype of the protector, or else become the villain that many already expect you to be. It was a narrative many pushed, but he had no interest in giving it too much thought right now.
Still he nodded, letting her believe he accepted the answer at face value. Then he turned, slowly, toward Elijah.
The other boy hadn't moved. Still swathed in dark layers, face still half-obscured. But Ruben spoke anyway. "What about you, Elijah?" He asked. "Why are you here?"
It was only when he said the name aloud that the other two noticed him.
Darius straightened, his eyes wide. "Wait… who the hell…" he started, then faltered. Ruben didn't respond. But he heard Elijah sigh, long and annoyed, like someone walking from an uncomfortable nap.
Anya's eyes narrowed. "He's been here the whole time?" She asked, voice tinged with disbelief.
Elijah exhaled again, this time louder. With a fluid motion, he unraveled the scarf from around his head and neck, revealing a sharp, pale face and amused half-lidded eyes. "Took you all long enough," he said with a slow smile. It wasn't arrogance. More like tired satisfaction.
Anya leaned slightly forward. "Why were you hiding?" she asked, suspicion thinly veiled.
He shrugged, folding the scarf across his lap. "Because I don't like being seen. Because I don't like engaging in group activity. I'm here because I have to be."
She gave a noncommittal grunt and tilted her head. "You know, if you want to become a Paladin, you're going to need to get used to people." Her tone was more observation than criticism. "Also where'd you get that Ego tool?"
Darius cut in then, looking at her sharply. "How'd you know his scarf was an Ego tool?" he asked.
Anya blinked. "It's basic," she said. "Anyone who knows the structure of Runes could make one. All it takes is the right combination."
Ruben went still. The statement hung in the air like smoke after a spark. That's all it took. In that one sentence, Anya had given herself away. She wasn't just familiar with runes, she knew how to craft them, how to apply them. That kind of knowledge is only taught to Paladin. Even candidates like them should only know of their existence and even then some still don't.
She had just admitted to possessing knowledge that would only be accessible to active Paladin.
He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
Darius even caught on quick enough. "What institution taught you that?" he asked, his tone was tightening. He then answered his own question. "Doesn't matter, they don't teach that to applicant's."
Anya opened her mouth, but no words came. Darius, fired up now, turned to Elijah. "Then how did you get it?" he asked, gesturing towards the scarf in Elijah's hand.
Elijah raised an eyebrow. "Made it myself," he said in a bored tone.
Ruben stepped in, annoyance flashing under his skin. "He's not a Paladin," he said firmly. He didn't know what Elijah was playing at but he knew that he didn't want to deal with it now.
Darius turned. "How would you know?"
"Because I know him," Ruben replied. "He went to my school. He couldn't have become one in the time we've been away. It's impossible."
Elijah gave a small nod, as if confirming it. That was enough. Darius' expression shifted again. This time, he looked at Anya, really looked. And slowly, inevitably his eyes narrowed. "Then it's gotta be you."
All eyes turned to stare.
Anya froze. Her hands lifted, just slightly, palms up like someone surrendering to bad weather. And then, with a frustrated sigh, she caved. "Fine! Yes, okay. I'm the damn Paladin! This wasn't even my idea, my mentor thought it would be funny to put me in here because I mouthed off last week about wanting to rank up already and for him to hurry up with my evaluation."
So she's a bronze rank.
"Also, that stupid Lumen Box thing was insane and shouldn't even be a thing for rookies, like seriously, who builds a trial that rewards antisocial savants. And Ruben…" she jabbed a finger toward him, "... you played too hard. You should've been out in the first round. This could've gone smoothly for me. It was supposed to."
Ruben guessed her incentive was that evaluation she wanted so badly to go up to silver rank.
Before she could say anything more, Elea's voice interrupted with crisp authority. "Congratulations. You have passed Phase One. The Paladin among your group was Bronze rank Anya Thevenet." Her voice didn't shift, didn't acknowledge the outburst. It simply moved on. "Proceed through the doors ahead and wait for Phase two."
A soft chime sounded, and a door on the opposite end of the room peeled open. Ruben moved to it first, walking forward, his eyes adjusting to the brighter light within the new chamber. There were already eight others waiting. He counted them absently, his mind was elsewhere though. Corbin wasn't among them.
Darius let out a shout of triumph behind him, pumping a fist into the air. Ruben didn't match the energy, but a small smile curved his lips. It was completely out of ego and glee, he felt good winning.
As he stepped into the waiting room, Elijah drifted in behind him, slow and quiet as ever. For the first time, Ruben really noticed how the other boy moved, light-footed, almost ghostly, as if he were only half-tethered to the floor.
Elijah gave him a sidelong glance, lips curling into a faint smirk. "Nice work," he murmured, voice just above a whisper.
Ruben nodded. "You too."
There was something strange in Elijah's tone, something Ruben couldn't quite place. Not sarcasm. Not disdain. But he just knew he was leaving something out. Ruben felt a little bit awkward, they had gone to the same school for two years and Ruben can't remember if they even had a conversation. They'd breathed the same air, stood in the same classrooms, walked the same halls. And not once had Ruben ever tried to talk to him. The absence felt weird now, not knowing someone that you know. However that worked.
***
The observation chamber was far removed from the trial floors below. A long, half-moon table curved beneath a digital projection of the current phase roster, flickering with real-time statistics, data graphs, and live bios. The room itself was minimalist, steel walls, polished flooring, dim lighting offset by the glow of the wall-spanning interface.
Eight people were gathered around the table, their uniforms varied but all bearing Gold Stars on them, marking them as Gold rank Paladin. Elea Mourad stood with her arms behind her back, still in full uniform, cape folded neatly along her shoulders, watching the projection with cool eyes.
"Six groups remaining from our site," said a woman on the far left, her voice crisp, nasal. She tapped at a tablet without looking up. "Five from the sister site. Phase One retention's higher than last year by four percent."
A stocky man beside her, balding, red-nosed, with a voice too loud for the room, leaned forward in his chair. "And quality-wise? What are we thinking?" he asked, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "We got any rising stars in the stew this year, or are they all mush and manners?
"Actually," said a younger man near the center of the table, leaning back with his boots disrespectfully kicked onto the leg of his chair, "one kid stood out big time." He swiped the data with two fingers, rotating the display so the profile expanded. "Ruben Rayo. Look at this. Three Minutes on the Lumen Box."
The woman from earlier raised a brow. "A mental Ego?"
"None recorded. It says here that his ego allows him to manifest dragons."
There was a collective murmur.
"Excuse me?" the loud one said, squinting at the screen. "No Mind-type? None? That's a straight up raw solve?"
"Yes."
"That's a top percentile," another added, a thin man with a reedy voice and long fingers folded under his chin. "Historically, anyone under ten minutes has been… well, special."
"There were a few duds. But in this context yes. Dario Kosta's score was still fifty seconds," said the first woman. "But he is a savant that we will never see again. He has been the record holder for the last fifty years and this is the second closest we have had to him."
"Damn, fifty years?" the younger man added in surprise, blowing air through his teeth. "Most candidates sit in front of the damn thing for fifteen minutes. This Rayo kid cut through it like a hot knife." The man pressed on the table to reveal a digital tablet, individual to him. After some searching, he revealed… "No academic greatness. Modest results and plenty of miss days. It's never usually like that."
The loud one laughed and slapped the table. "I like it when those types mess up the spreadsheets."
"It's worth noting." The reedy man said, "that historically, those with high solve times on the Lumen cube tend to end up in leadership roles."
"Among Paladin within the nation there are a few yes." The young man grinned. "The woman from Novar, what's her name… Grelda?"
"Four-oh-three," the older woman said instantly.
"Yup. And she led the whole resistance against Albion from down south during those times as well. Near a hundred years ago now, and that was all at the end of her second year as a Paladin."
Elea, who had said nothing so far, watched with her pale eyes unblinking.
"But what about that error?" the younger man went on. "Ruben Rayo got placed with Elijah Neri. A former classmate. That shouldn't have happened. Intake forms flagged it but the file didn't sync in time. Classic backend fumble."
"It compromised the whole segment," said the reedy man.
Elea finally spoke, her voice quiet but unmistakably clear. "It went fine."
The room hushed and heads turned.
She continued. "The candidates didn't rely on their prior relationship. In fact they didn't even seem to notice each other until the very end. The circumstances were imperfect but the result was still valid."
"Well, thank the stars for that," said the red-nosed man, reaching for a cup of now-cold tea and frowning when he saw it had gone empty. "We aren't supposed to make mistakes."
Another voice from above them. Surrounding them sat a different sect of civilians, all covered with white sheets over their faces that have a rune on them with a similar effect as the one Elijah Neri was wearing. They were powerless compared to Ego users, and as part of their role called for them to be here they only come if all guidelines are followed.
"What about the other boy? The one that came in with Ruben Rayo?"
"Corbin Monet," was the voice of another woman from that crowd. "Eight minutes on the Lumen Box. Fourth fastest time overall today."
"Not bad," said the red-nosed man. "A bad attitude but plenty of talent. Seems to be more of a physical type. He might be one to watch out for."
"Just where did those two come from?" Someone asked.
"It's not only those two," was the voice of an older man, croaked and tired. "There is that recommendation from Paul Eclair. That young girl is good too."
The young girl in question is named Rosette St. Jon. She was the one with the second highest score on the Lumen Box with five minutes and forty seconds.
"These exams are doing better than last year," said the red-nosed man, half-grinning again. "Wouldn't be surprised if we see them all make it."
A beat of silence followed.
And then Elea turned to face them all directly.
"Talent," she said slowly, "is never enough."
The words were sharp and it dimmed the upbeat momentum in the air.
"It takes more than raw ability to survive as a Paladin. It takes restraint. Vision. Discipline. And above all else, it takes luck."
Some of them looked unsettled and others just let out a breath of air from the stern voice of Elea.
"Pray," Elea said, turning back to the screen, "that your prodigies have more than talent."
***
The waiting chamber was cast in a sterile glow, a soft artificial white from overhead lights embedded in the high ceiling like low-burning stars. It was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of boots against the polished floor and the low hum of filtered air circulating through narrow vents along the curved walls.
A dozen or so candidates milled about the space in varying states of exhaustion, some seated against the wall with heads tilted back, others pacing silently, hands tucked into sleeves or crossed tight against their chests.
A few stood alone, watching the far door where the trial exit shimmered faintly with light from the hall beyond. The air still carried the acrid scent of stress and sweat.
Ruben found a corner near one of the long glass panels that looked out into a lightless shaft, the kind that probably led to some sealed part of the testing facility. It offered no view, but gave a sense of separation.
He leaned against the cool metal frame and glanced sideways as a familiar shape peeled away from the other end of the room and moved toward him.
Elijah drifted into the space beside him like a shadow slipping through cracks. He wasn't wearing the scarf now, it was shoved halfway into his pocket, and without it, his presence was clear as day. His dark curly hair was longer now and it hung lazily over his eyes, his posture was loose, almost lazy, as if the exhaustion that clung to others in the room simply didn't apply to him.
Ruben turned his head slightly and broke the silence. "Didn't think I'd see you here."
Elijah smirked, a dry curve of his lips as he leaned one shoulder against the frame beside him. "Same," he said, then chuckled lightly. "Well. That's a lie. You were in that small group who everyone knew had Egos and planned on becoming Paladin. But even back then, I never really thought you cared."
Ruben gave a slow nod. "I didn't."
The truth sat easy on his tongue now. He had never been part of the eager crowd. He'd stood on the fringe of it, nodding when necessary, ignoring most of it, watching others burn their energy on declarations and dreams. It hadn't meant much to him, it felt more like inertia.
"We never really talked, did we?" he said after a beat.
"Nope." Elijah's gaze drifted across the room. "But we've got time now."
Ruben let that hang, unsure of how to respond. The statement was soft, welcoming. But what did you say to a stranger that wasn't a stranger. Ruben didn't really know what to ask. He stood in the pause, chewing over the silence, before his memory sharpened.
"You voted for me," he said, watching Elijah's reaction from the corner of his eye.
Elijah didn't look at him, but he laughed, a low, scratchy sound. "Don't take it personally," he said, waving a hand. "I just wanted to mess with you. I figured you'd be fine. Didn't think you would actually get voted out."
Ruben shook his head, half amused, half annoyed. "Risky play."
"I get bored easily."
Ruben's gaze drifted downward, landing on the scarf now balled loosely in Elijah's jacket pocket. The dark fabric was thin, but the weave shimmered faintly with the faintest traces of Runes that looked stitched along the hem. There was something strange and fluid about it, like the shadows themselves hadn't quite let go.
"That's a cool scarf." Ruben said quietly. He wouldn't want it, he didn't think that it would suit him to have it on unless he was trying to hide from somebody.
Elijah followed his gaze once. "Yeah. Got it from the guy who's been mentoring me for the last couple years. He got it for me."
"It was real hard to notice you." Ruben muttered.
"That was the idea."
There was a silence again, softer this time. The longer Ruben stood beside Elijah, the more aware he became of the space between them, not physical, but emotional. There was no history here. Just two lives that had barely brushed against each other, finally moving in the same direction. It felt strange. Not unwelcome. Just strange.
After a minute, Elijah turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Corbin's still not here."
Ruben followed his gaze toward one of the doors surrounding them. No one had come through since the last team of three that entered. He exhaled, unconcerned.
"I'm not worried," he said. "Corbin's good. If there's only one person who walks out of his group, it'll be him."
Elijah arched a brow, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "You're confident."
Ruben shrugged. "I know him."
"Cousins?" Elijah asked. "Siblings? I always thought cousins by the way."
Ruben blinked. The question caught him by surprise off guard, not because it was invasive, but because no one had ever asked it before. Most people simply assumed. Two boys who lived in the same house and were fairly close to each other. Brothers, right?
"No," he said. "We were orphans. Same ward, same guardian. Just an old man who took us both in. We kept out names though, but yeah, I guess we are brothers."
Elijah nodded once. He didn't ask further. He didn't need to.
"Same," he said after a long pause. "Orphan, I mean. My mom died when I was young. My dad… didn't handle it well. Drank himself out of work. Out of friends. Out of everything."
Ruben turned his head, staring. He hadn't expected that. Not something so similar to his own story.
"My dad was an alcoholic too," he said slowly. "Expect… he only stopped after my mom died. He started to clean up."
Elijah let out a laugh. Not mocking, just dry. "Funny. Glad I was taken away from that place. That dark and cruel place."
Ruben looked away, eyes tracing the smooth edges of the glass panel. There was no comfort in this conversation, but there was something else. Recognition. He thought the rage was gone, buried under the time and silence, but it flared now, subtle and sharp. He had tried not to think about it. About the tyrant his father was. And the anger that Ruben wore on his sleeve back then.
He envied Elijah a little now, not for the story, but for the ease in which he told it.
"Why are you telling me this?" Ruben asked.
Elijah tilted his head back, letting it rest against the wall. "Because I'm not scared of it anymore," he said simply. "Because I've started growing comfortable with the story. It's not a wound. It's a memory. My dad's out the picture. I've got a much more entertaining life now. It doesn't haunt me. It just… is."
'A more entertaining life…' A weird way to put it.
Ruben nodded slowly, but inside, his thoughts felt colder. He wondered if he could ever feel that way. His father was gone too. Yet the clarity Elijah spoke of still eluded him. There was no guilt in Ruben. But there was no peace either. No sense of finality. Just indifference. Or maybe even a hate without fire.
He looked at Elijah again, and for a moment, he felt envy. Not sharp. Just a recognition of something he didn't have.
And then the doors hissed open.
The scent hit him before the figure appeared, metal, ozone, that faint trace of forest dust that clung to Corbin's jumper like an old memory. Ruben turned just in time to see him stride into the room, alone but flanked by a second figure. Only one had made it through with him. Corbin's eyes scanned the room lazily, then landed on Ruben. He didn't smile, but raised a hand in a tired half-wave. His scowl was familiar. Comforting.
Ruben pushed off the wall and turned to Elijah.
"Guess I'm off now," he said.
Elijah nodded. "Good luck in the next round."
"You too."