Morning arrived too quickly.
Aren stood outside the Academy gates, the ruins still smoking from the Breachfall disaster. Soldiers carried debris. Students whispered from a distance. The city's repair crews worked nonstop to stabilize the cracked walls.
Aren wore traveler's clothes now — simple, reinforced, nothing like his Elite uniform.
No bow.
No markings.
No void glow.
Just Aren.
A single bag over his shoulder carried the few belongings he still had.
Kane appeared beside him, arms crossed, eyes heavy with frustration.
"This is wrong," he muttered. "Too fast. Too political. Too convenient."
Aren didn't answer. His heart felt numb.
Not from fear.
From loss.
Rellin approached with a small escort of guards.
"Aren," she said, voice steady. "Your transport is ready."
Aren nodded without looking at her.
Kane stepped forward.
"What exactly is waiting for him at the Frontier?"
Rellin answered honestly.
"Distance. Safety. And a team that specializes in… anomalies."
"And you're sure he's an anomaly?" Kane snapped.
Rellin hesitated.
"…I'm sure he's something the city can't contain."
Aren's chest tightened.
The researcher stepped forward with a final scan device.
"Aren, we have to run this one last time. To confirm you're still disconnected from the breach entity."
Aren held out his arm.
A beam of blue light swept across him.
No reaction.
No void surge.
No distortion.
The researcher sighed in relief.
"You're stable. At least physically."
Aren lowered his arm.
Stable.
At least something was.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Kale walked up slowly, hands shoved in his pockets, bandages wrapped around his ribs.
He didn't smirk. Didn't glare.
He stood quietly.
Aren blinked. "…Kale?"
Kale exhaled.
"You beat me," he said plainly.
Aren frowned. "That's not why—"
"No. You beat me," Kale repeated. "Not in power. In will."
Kale extended a hand.
"I don't like how things turned out. But… I respect you."
Aren shook his hand, unsure what to feel.
Kale stepped back.
"Come back alive, alright? I want a rematch."
Aren managed a weak smile.
"I'll try."
Kale scoffed.
"'Try'? Don't try. Do."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The transport arrived — a reinforced mana-armored vehicle, built for crossing the wilderness. The emblem of the Frontier Division glowed on its side.
Two soldiers opened the door.
"Void subject—Aren. You'll ride with us."
Kane's jaw tightened.
"Aren isn't a 'subject.' Treat him like a person."
The soldiers stiffened.
"Yes, sir."
Aren stepped toward the vehicle—but Kane grabbed his sleeve.
Aren turned.
Kane's voice softened.
"Aren… don't let this break you."
Aren met his eyes.
"I'm not broken. Just… different."
Kane nodded, though his expression said he didn't believe it.
Rellin approached last.
"Aren… before you go—" she hesitated, then continued, "you made the most selfless choice I've seen in years. I hope the Frontier gives you space to recover."
Aren nodded.
Then he climbed into the transport.
The door shut behind him.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Inside, the vehicle was dim and quiet. Two Frontier operatives sat across from him — masked, armored, neutral.
One spoke mildly:
"You're Aren?"
He nodded.
The operative tilted her head.
"You don't look like someone who caused a Catastrophe-tier spike."
Aren didn't laugh.
She cleared her throat.
"We're not here to treat you like a threat. Just someone dangerous to the city. There's a difference."
Aren asked quietly:
"…How far is the Frontier?"
"Three days' travel."
Aren leaned back.
Three days.
Three days away from the only place he knew.
Three days away from the void.
Three days to figure out what he was without evolution.
The vehicle lurched forward.
The gates of the Academy opened behind him for the last time.
Aren watched through the small window until the walls faded into the distance.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Hours later, as the transport crossed the outer edge of the city—
Aren felt a faint vibration beneath his feet.
A low hum in the earth.
Not the dragon's voice.
Not the rival entity.
Not the void.
Something else.
Something faint.
Something thin.
Something alive.
A whisper brushed the back of his mind.
Not words — only a feeling.
A spark.
The smallest flicker of void.
Aren's eyes widened.
"…Impossible."
He reached inward—
And felt the tiniest pulse.
A fragment.
A remnant.
His evolution wasn't fully dead.
It was broken.
But not gone.
Aren closed his fist around the feeling.
Just a spark.
But enough.
The void king's distant echo rumbled beneath the earth:
"You cannot escape what you are."
Aren exhaled sharply.
He whispered back:
"I'm not escaping."
He opened his eyes.
"I'm rebuilding."