The Shinsei District was a total disaster zone, still reeling from the wake of the real Damon's path of destruction.
"Yo, Theo, what's the word on your end?" a voice crackled through the comms. It was Masato, leaning against a piece of jagged ruins while Lexa kept a steady hand on the man's shoulder for support.
Theo picked up, his gaze sweeping over the wreckage on his side of the district. "Nothing yet. But, the place is a wreck. The infrastructure is completely shot—it's gonna take a miracle to patch this up. What about you guys?"
While Theo waited for an update on their position, Lexa kept her eyes moving, scanning the perimeter for any signs of movement among the debris.
"Lexa's busy patching up one of the locals right now—poor guy was in bad shape," Masato replied, his tone shifting into that easy, brotherly drawl despite the chaos.
"We put the word out for more medics to head our way. As for the scenery? It's basically just a giant gravel pit over here, bro. Total washout. We're huntin' for the target, but so far? Zilch. Not a single ping on the radar."
Masato paused, checking the shadows around the corner of the building he was using for cover, his jaw set in a hard line.
Theo professionally scanned his surroundings, bringing his fingers up to his jaw as he tried to piece the puzzle together. "I'm positive Lyss sent the alarm from these coordinates based on what Medea reported," he said, his voice tight with focus.
"But there's absolutely no sign of her here." To emphasize his point, he summoned a massive, translucent green arm from his resonance, using the construct to heave several heavy boulders out of his path as if they were pebbles.
"Yeah, we're coming up empty over here, too," Masato replied, his voice taking on a concerned, brotherly tone as he watched Lexa carefully lean an injured man against a relatively stable wall. "I really hope the girl's doing okay, man. We haven't heard a peep from her. If she's in a jam, we gotta find her location ASAP."
"I could try checking in at her dorm," Theo suggested, letting out a heavy, weary sigh.
"Good call. Cinder might have a lead on where she wandered off to," Masato agreed over the channel.
"Checking now," Theo said. He hung up and immediately dialed Cinder's line, but instead of her voice, he was met with the hollow silence of a dead connection. No ringing, no voicemail—just nothing.
"Huh?" He pulled the smartphone away from his ear, staring at the screen in confusion. "What's going on with her? I can't get a signal through at all."
Cinder checked her screen one last time, seeing the "No Service" icon stubbornly blinking in the dim light of the tunnel. "Doesn't look like we'll be able to get a word out to the others," she said, shifting her weight as she slid the phone back into her rear pocket.
"You're not going to... you know, report us to Vanguard for using Binders outside the training grounds, are you?" Timotheo asked, his fingers twitching nervously. The realization that he'd broken a major protocol was finally starting to settle in.
Cinder gave a dismissive shrug. "Reporting paperwork isn't really my cup of tea. Honestly, if I were the Institute's headmaster, I'd probably permit Binder usage outside the grounds anyway."
Timotheo let out a long, heavy sigh of relief. He had known Cinder for a long time, and that familiar, laid-back streak of hers gave him enough confidence to know she'd keep this between them.
"Besides," she added, her gaze lingering on the cleared tracks where the train had been. "You managed to keep that engine running and cleared a path for the passengers. You used your Binders for the safety of the citizens, not as a playground. It's hard to find fault in that."
"How long you been standing back there?" Takumi asked, his voice flat as he wiped a smudge of oil off his cleaver.
Timotheo let out a tired snort, crossing his arms while trying to stop his hands from shaking. "She probably just rolled up, Takumi. Trust me, she's always late. It's kinda her thing."
"Don't think so," Takumi said, not even looking over. "She's been there."
Cinder played it off, tilting her head with a lazy, confused look. "I don't know what you're talking about. How can you be so sure I wasn't just hauling ass to get here?"
Takumi finally looked at her, his expression bored, almost indifferent.
"Back when I cut through those boulders," he said, gesturing vaguely toward the wreckage behind them. "The flash from the energy lit up the whole tunnel for a second. I saw someone move behind a pillar way in the back. It wasn't a piece of rock, either. It was someone shifting their weight, getting a better view."
He shrugged, shifting his grip on his blade.
"You weren't running to catch up. You were already there, just leaning against a wall, watching us struggle to see if we'd actually pull it off. You wanted to see if we were worth the effort before you stepped in."
Cinder went quiet for a beat, her feigned confusion melting into a sharp, lopsided smirk. She hefted the axe onto her shoulder like it weighed nothing.
"Not bad," she admitted, her tone actually showing a bit of respect. "Most kids are too busy screaming to notice a shadow moving in the dark. I guess you're actually paying attention."
She took a step closer, the heat from her axe still making the air shimmer. "Yeah, I was there. Wanted to see if I was working with actual Vanguards or just some dead weight I'd have to drag home. Turns out you've actually got a pair of eyes in your head."
Timotheo's jaw dropped, his "tough guy" act completely falling apart. "Wait—so you saw that guy almost turn me into a pancake and you just... hung out? Seriously?"
Cinder let out a weary sigh, reaching up to rub the back of her neck. "Look, the way the Institute handles training is just a joke. There's a reason I quit being a professor," she said, her voice dropping into a more serious, candid tone.
"They expect you kids to turn into elite Vanguards just by sitting in a classroom, but they treat real field work like it's some forbidden fruit."
Takumi and Timotheo stayed quiet, letting her speak.
"Do they honestly think you're going to learn how to survive out here by listening to lectures and watching demonstrations?" she asked, looking between them.
"What you actually need is the freedom to push your Binders—to figure out what they can really do on your own terms. No teacher is ever going to understand your connection to your power better than you do. That's why I just stood back. I wanted to see how you'd handle a real threat when there wasn't a pro holding your hand."
She gestured dismissively toward the pile of ash on the tracks.
"I mean, that thing was just a low-rent clone. If things had actually gone south, I obviously would've jumped in. But you guys did good," she added, giving them a brief, rare nod of approval.
"For once, you actually looked like you were doing real field work, not just playing a part in a simulation."
"Takumi's new, so the way things work around here might be news to him, but Timotheo, you've been around long enough to know the drill," Cinder said, her voice laced with a lingering frustration.
"The academy's obsessed with bubble-wrapping you. Only high-ranking officers get to do the actual heavy lifting while the higher-ups lose sleep making sure you kids don't get a scratch on you. It's backward. At the very least, they should let you tag along and help out when things get hairy."
She kicked at a stray piece of gravel, her jaw tightening.
"And that rule about not using your Binder off-campus? That's the part that really burns me. I get the academic stuff—math and history are the same wherever you go—but combat isn't something you can learn from a textbook. You only get tougher by getting your hands dirty. Real experience comes from the field, not a padded gym."
Timotheo reached up, awkwardly scratching the back of his head as he processed her rant. It made sense, but one thing was still bothering him.
"I mean, I get that," he muttered, glancing around the damp, dark walls. "But there's zero signal down here. How did you even know where to find us?"
Cinder didn't see any point in playing games, so she gave it to them straight.
"Look, everyone has a resonance, whether it's a flicker or a bonfire. Remember your basics? Resonance is just vibration hitting its peak frequency—it's how everything in this world is tethered together. The name isn't just for show; it's literal. You're always *
resonating."
She leaned against the tunnel wall, her gaze shifting to Takumi. "People with enough time in the field learn how to tune into those vibrations. We can pick up a specific signature and track it just by using our senses. And honestly? The louder the noise, the easier it is to find the source."
She gestured toward Takumi's Binder. "On your own, your resonance is already way higher than the average student, but the second you fired up that Binder, you were practically screaming into the void. You created an intensified vibration that I could feel from blocks away. Since Lyss had already called in the alarm for Shinsei and I was already in the neighborhood, it was easy to track that pulse right to this tunnel. I had more than enough time to get here and see if you two actually knew how to use the power you were throwing around."
Takumi nodded slowly, the logic clicking into place, while Timotheo stared at his boots, looking like a kid who had just been scolded in front of the whole class. "I knew that," he muttered defensively, though his flushed face suggested otherwise.
While things were heating up in the tunnels, central Aoshima was a different world. Itsuki stood on a busy street corner, dressed to the nines for the meet-up and checking his phone for the tenth time in three minutes.
"Where the hell are you at, Taki?" Itsuki grumbled to himself, his voice thick with a frustrated, easy-going drawl. "Said we'd meet up at this here spot, but now you ain't even pickin' up. Dammit, man." He huffed, scrolling through their last few texts with a scowl. "Better have a lick o' sense and a good excuse for leavin' me hangin' like this."
To be continued...