The Great Hall of the Sector 4 Academy was a cathedral of cold light and silent judgment. Rows of translucent desks stretched toward a distant, obsidian-black dais where the Proctoring Drones hovered like mechanical vultures.
For Evelyn, today wasn't just about the "Anatomical Systems & Synthetic Integration" exam. It was about survival.
She sat at her station, her fingers hovering over the haptic interface. To her left, Leo was already deep in his own terminal, his face a mask of calculated indifference. But every few seconds, his eyes flickered toward her; a silent, frantic check-in.
"Candidates," the voice of Director Silas Vane boomed through the hidden speakers, smooth and dangerous as polished glass. "The Orbit demands precision. Nature is a mess of variables and rot; technology is the scalpel that carves out order. Prove your worth to the Eradication Initiative. Begin."
The screens bloomed into life. Complex 3D holograms of human and lupine physiology; the "enemy" anatomy spun in the air. Evelyn had to identify the neural clusters most susceptible to orbital suppression.
Focus, she told herself. Be the machine.
She began to work, her movements fluid and rhythmic. But the "Ghost Heartbeat" was restless. It wasn't a dull thrum today; it was a frantic, jagged rhythm. Somewhere far below, under the clouds she had seen on Leo's tablet, Ren was in danger. She could feel a sharp, biting pain in her side, a phantom wound.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
The silver crescent on her shoulder began to itch. Then, it began to throb.
She felt the heat first; a searing, localized fever that made the cooling air of the hall feel like a furnace. Through the thin, white fabric of her Academy tunic, a soft, lunar radiance began to bleed.
"No," she whispered, her breath hitching.
She leaned forward, pressing her shoulder against the edge of the desk to stifle the glow. The pain in her side intensified. It felt like a serrated blade was being drawn across her ribs. On Earth, Ren was being hunted. The connection was so vivid she could smell the ozone of a pulse-rifle and the metallic tang of fresh blood.
A Proctoring Drone drifted toward her row, its blue optical sensor scanning for irregular vitals.
"Subject 402," the drone's mechanical voice chirped. "Metabolic rate is exceeding safety parameters. Perspiration detected. Explain."
Evelyn's hands shook. She couldn't stop the glow. The silver light was now bright enough that it was reflecting off the surface of her glass desk, a shimmering crescent moon appearing amidst the diagrams of muscle and bone.
"I... I am optimizing my cognitive output," Evelyn gasped, forcing her fingers to continue the exam. "The strain is... intentional."
"Suboptimal," the drone replied, descending lower. Its scanner light turned a warning amber.
Leo saw it. He didn't hesitate. He knew that if that drone stayed for another ten seconds, it would detect the silver mark; the "instability" that would end Evelyn's life.
Leo's fingers danced across his terminal, not answering his own questions, but diving deep into the hall's local power grid. He bypassed the primary safeties, targeting a coolant leak he'd noted in the maintenance logs three weeks prior.
CRACK-BOOM.
A massive junction box at the back of the hall erupted in a spray of blue sparks. The overhead lights flickered and died. The "Eye of Vane" went dark.
"System failure! Power surge in Sector 4!" a voice shouted.
The hall plunged into a thick, artificial twilight. The drones spun in circles, their navigation systems momentarily scrambled by the electromagnetic pulse Leo had triggered.
"Evie, now!" Leo hissed through the dark.
Evelyn grabbed her shoulder, her hand searing as she pressed down on the mark. It wasn't just glowing now; it was vibrating. The silver light spilled between her fingers like liquid mercury. She felt a surge of raw, primal energy, a "Auspice Power" she didn't understand.
For a second, the dark hall vanished. She saw through Ren's eyes. She saw the recon soldiers in their white armor, their rifles leveled at a thicket of thorns. She felt the Alpha's snarl in her own throat.
Run, she thought, projecting the intent with every fiber of her being. Ren, run!
On Earth, the wolf leapt.
In the Orbit, Evelyn collapsed back into her chair just as the emergency red lights kicked in. The silver glow on her shoulder died down to a faint, smoldering ember.
Leo was already back at his desk, his screen showing a "System Error" message that looked perfectly accidental.
Director Vane's silhouette appeared on the dais, illuminated by the crimson emergency glow. He didn't look angry; he looked intrigued. He walked down the steps, his boots echoing like gunshots in the sudden silence. He stopped right at Evelyn's desk.
She looked up, her face pale, a single bead of sweat trailing down her temple.
Vane leaned in, his eyes cold and predatory. He didn't look at her exam. He looked at her eyes; the pupils were still slightly dilated, reflecting a wild, terrestrial light that didn't belong in the stars.
"Remarkable neural activity, Candidate Harper," Vane whispered, his voice a low, terrifying purr. "To keep working through a localized blackout... such focus. Or perhaps, such a powerful connection to something else?"
He reached out, his gloved hand hovering inches from her shoulder; the exact spot where the silver mark was hidden.
"You are a very interesting tool, Evelyn," Vane said. "I think I have the perfect assignment for you once you've graduated. We're going back to the dirt. And I think you'll be the one to show us exactly where the heart of the rot is hidden."
He turned and walked away, his white cape billowing like a shroud.
Evelyn caught Leo's eye. He looked terrified. The bond had saved her today, but it had also tagged her. She was no longer just a student; she was a target.
The "Mark" was no longer a secret. It was a countdown.