“What do you think—”
“I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out.” He holds my gaze. Steady. Sure. “Don’t worry.”
I nod. Try to believe him.
First vehicles show up a few days ago, now this?
What the hell is going on?
Class starts and I don’t hear a word of it.
The professor is talking about resonance theory—something about frequency alignment and proximity effects—but the words slide right past me. All I can feel is the weight of eyes on the back of my neck.
Vaelor shifts beside me. His shoulder presses against mine and stays there.
He doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t say anything. Just… leans in. Solid and warm andthere.
Some of the tension bleeds out of me and I lean into it.
I keep waiting for something to happen. For the man in the back to stand up, to say something, to point at me and announce whatever crime I’ve committed by existing.
He doesn’t. He just sits there. Watching.
Halfway through class, the weight disappears.
I don’t turn around to check. But I know. The air feels different. Lighter.
When class ends, I glance back.
The seat is empty. He’s gone.
The relief lasts about three seconds before the unease settles back in. He left. But he saw what he came to see.
“Come on.” Vaelor’s hand finds my back again. “Let’s get lunch. I’ll meet you at the table—need to drop something off first.”
I nod.
The dining hall is loud and bright and full of food.
I’m still not used to it. Two weeks of meals here and my brain still short-circuits every time I see the spread—stations for everything, trays piled high, people just… taking what they want. Like it’s nothing.
I grab a plate. Move through the line slowly, trying to actually think about what I want instead of what will keep me alive the longest.
There’s bread at the end of the station. Fresh, warm, the kind I used to grab first because it was filling and kept well and didn’t matter if it got stale.
I pass it.
I grab fruit instead. Some kind of pasta. A piece of chicken that looks actually seasoned for once.
It feels like a small victory. Choosing what I want instead of what I need.
I turn toward our usual table and spot them immediately. All of them except Vaelor—Locke at the end, Trey across from him, Rane and Kyron in the middle, Beckett with his back to the wall.
Locke’s eyes find mine across the room. Something in his expression softens.
I start walking toward them.
And then Silas steps into my path.
