The porch light was on.
Always on when he was late. Three years of testing that theory and it never once failed.
He went inside.
"Noah."
She was on the couch. Book open, not reading it. Waiting.
"Hey," he said.
"It's three in the morning."
"I know. Sorry."
She looked at him. Really looked — the way she did when she was deciding whether to push or let it go. Eyes moved to his jacket. The elbow. The tear.
"What happened to your jacket."
[Acting check.]
"Fell," he said. "Shortcut through the park. Tripped on something."
She kept looking.
"And your phone."
He'd had the whole walk home to think about this one.
"Lost it when I fell. Went back to look but it was dark."
[Acting check: Success.]
She sighed. Not angry. Just tired in that specific way — relieved and annoyed at the same time.
"Noah."
"I'll get a new one. I have money saved."
"That's not the point."
"I know."
She studied him another second. He held eye contact. Steady. Three years of drama club and one very bad evening and he could look his mother in the eye and show her absolutely nothing.
That thought didn't sit right.
She let it go.
"There's food in the fridge."
"Yeah." Already moving toward the stairs.
"Noah."
He stopped.
Her expression had shifted. Softer.
"You okay?"
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
"Just tired," he said. "Long day."
She nodded. Looked back at her book.
He grabbed a plate from the fridge — whatever she'd left covered in foil — and took it upstairs. Ate standing up in his room without tasting any of it. Put the empty plate on the desk next to the half-finished essay.
Closed the door. Stood there.
His right hand was shaking. Just a little. He pressed it flat against his leg until it quit.
Window. Street below. Empty.
"Is it gone," he said.
[Yes,] the text said. [I track threats near you. Right now the most dangerous thing in range is a raccoon two streets over.]
"Raccoon."
[Large. Probably rabid. Not your problem.]
He almost laughed.
"So you'll warn me. If something actually shows up."
[Before it gets close. That's how this works.]
He stepped back from the window.
Nothing had moved in his room. Essay on the desk, hoodie on the chair, same four walls. Like the last few hours hadn't happened to any of it.
He sat on the bed.
[Stat points,] the text said. [Before you sleep.]
He pulled up the window.
[CURRENT STATS:]
[STR — 13]
[AGI — 14]
[INT — 16]
[VIT — 14]
[+10 UNSPENT POINTS]
He thought about it. Shadow Hound had been fast — faster than the goblins from the gate. He'd been lucky with the timing on Shadow Step. Needed more room for error.
"Four AGI. Four VIT. Two STR."
[Not INT?]
"INT doesn't stop me getting hit."
[It helps you not make stupid decisions that get you hit.]
"My decisions tonight were fine."
[You fought a D-rank entity with no armor, a knife, and an E-rank skill on your first night alive.]
"And I'm still here."
Pause.
[Walk me through your reasoning.]
"Shadow Hound was fast. I nearly missed the Shadow Step window. AGI gives me more room on timing. VIT means I survive if I do miss. STR makes the knife hit harder so fights end faster."
[That's actually correct.]
"You sound surprised."
[I'm not surprised. I'm noting it for the record.]
[STR is fine at two for now — your kills so far have been positioning, not power. AGI was the right priority. VIT keeps you alive long enough to use it.]
[One thing.]
"What."
[INT governs how fast you read a situation. Right now you're slow — you spent thirty seconds figuring out the Hound mirrored before you used it. At higher INT that's ten seconds. The difference matters when the enemy isn't D-rank.]
"So put into INT next level."
[Put into INT next level.]
[Four AGI. Four VIT. Two STR,] the text said.
Ping.
[STR — 15]
[AGI — 18]
[INT — 16]
[VIT — 18]
He felt it — subtle shift, like something clicking into place. He'd feel it properly tomorrow.
Jacket came off. Shoved under the bed. Elbow washed in the sink, water kept quiet. First aid kit. Two minutes.
He lay back.
Ceiling. Water stain shaped like a boot up in the corner. He knew every edge of it.
"Hey."
[Yes.]
"The Shadow Hound. Will more show up?"
[Not immediately. You cleared the residue. But the longer you go unregistered, the more you'll attract. Things near the edges of the system notice new players.]
[It's like showing up to a card game without a seat. Everyone sees you standing there.]
"So register fast. Tomorrow morning."
[Tomorrow. Two blocks from your school. I marked it.]
"I know. I saw the marker."
Quiet settled over the room.
He stared at the ceiling.
"She's going to be in second period tomorrow," he said.
[I know.]
"Emilia."
[I know.]
"She sits two rows ahead of him."
[Noah.]
"What."
[Go to sleep.]
He didn't answer.
Hands flat on his stomach. Looking at the water stain.
She might not have known. He'd said that out loud in the park like saying it would make it true. And it might be. It actually might be. She could've just been passing on a message, no idea what she was setting up.
Or she knew exactly what she was sending him into and smiled the whole way there. Smiled at him in the hall last week too, now that he thought about it. Asked to borrow a pen in bio. Small stuff. The kind of stuff that adds up to something if someone's building toward it.
He wouldn't know until he saw her face.
[Acting check,] the text said quietly, [will be available if you need it.]
He closed his eyes.
Didn't sleep right away. Too much in his head — the Hound, the knife, the raccoon two streets over that apparently had better threat classification than whatever actually killed him tonight.
Then he did.