The sky outside their dorm window was velvet-dark, the moons hanging low and heavy, casting an ethereal glow across the tiled floors. The city had gone quiet, the buzz of classes and student chatter replaced by the steady, haunting hum of the capital's curfew sirens.
Tari was halfway through shading a small sketch, another tribute to the Solaris skyline,when Keal stretched, tossed aside his headphones, and stood.
"I'm craving a drink," Keal announced, brushing his hoodie.
Tari looked up. "It's past curfew. You know how strict they are."
Keal raised an eyebrow. "So what? I'm not going out to start a revolution. Just hitting the vending machine near the hall."
"Don't be dumb," Tari muttered, dropping his pencil. "What if you get caught by patrol? Or worse?"
Keal gave him a sly look. "Worse like what? Getting devoured by a Verae? Or—wait—better yet…" He raised his hands dramatically. "Dragged into the shadows by a huge, slimy, disgusting Ingression hiding behind the soda machine?"
He mimicked the creature growling and reaching out, then started laughing.
Tari didn't.
"I'm serious, Keal. You know what's been happening lately. Just… wait till morning."
But Keal was already halfway to the door. "If I'm not back in five minutes, come save me from the cursed snack aisle."
"Keal."
"Yeah, yeah. Five minutes. Promise."
The door clicked shut behind him.
The five minutes stretched like wire. Ten. Twenty. An hour.
Tari paced the room, chewing his thumbnail and glancing at the door every few seconds. Midnight came and went. He even checked his holopad—no messages, no pings, no "I'm fine" from Keal.
At 3:17 a.m., he couldn't take it anymore.
He pulled on his coat and slipped out.
The dormitory halls were eerily silent, the kind of silence that thickened around the ears. He passed a few dim lights and listened for any sign of Keal.
Nothing.
He reached the bottom floor. The vending machine near the west stairwell still blinked with holographic ads. The alley next to it was dark. Cold.
"Keal?" he whispered.
Silence answered him.
He wandered past the courtyard, scanning the hedges, the benches, even peeking behind trash bins. Then he noticed something ,a thick, dark liquid on the pavement, glistening faintly under the moonlight. His breath caught.
It wasn't water.
He crouched, stomach twisting as he reached out a finger and dipped it slightly.
Thick. Cold. Red-brown.
"What the hell...what is this??.."
Before he could think, he heard voices stern, clipped, and too close.
Patrols.
A white, silent vehicle hummed past the edge of the campus grounds. Men with angular rifles, dressed in black armor with glowing visors, scanned the area.
Tari's heart jumped. If they found him outside after curfew, he'd be detained. Or worse.
He darted back toward the dorm, shoes thudding too loud against stone. He didn't stop running until he was back inside their room.
The door he left unlocked clicked gently behind him.
Keal's bed was still empty.
Tari collapsed onto his mattress, the springs groaning beneath him like a tired sigh.
His sketchbook lay open beside him, its pages streaked in graphite and frustration.
A ruined sky-city stared back at him towers cleaved in half, bridges crumbling midair, smoke and ash clawing at a storm-lit sky. A city once floating, now falling.
He couldn't stop seeing it.
Over and over. The same vision.
Every line etched with questions he couldn't answer.
Where are you…?
The thought struck like a dull ache behind his eyes, surfacing again with the same quiet desperation.
He pressed his fingers to his temples, hoping to silence the noise in his head, the possibilities, the doubts, the guilt.
But the silence only grew heavier.
And with it, a deep, slow exhaustion.
The sketchbook slipped from his grasp, landing on the floor with a soft thud.
And then without another word.Tari surrendered to sleep.
The shrill chime of the morning bell dragged Tari out of a dreamless sleep. He sat up, blinking groggily at the dim, gray light pouring through the window. His mouth was dry, and his head pounded—not from fatigue alone, but from dread.
Keal's bed was still untouched.
The blanket hadn't moved. The pillow still dipped with the faint imprint of his roommate's last nap the previous afternoon. Tari stared at it, willing it to change.
But it didn't.
He didn't come back.
The academy's automated schedule reminders buzzed through the walls. Today was class orientation for the third-year division,hundreds of students would be moving across campus. If anyone noticed something… off… it would be now.
He dressed slowly, hands trembling. He didn't bother combing his hair. A knock echoed on his door, and for a brief, blissful second, he thought
"Tari!" a familiar voice called.
He jumped, startled, before turning toward the doorway.
It was Soraya.
Tari blinked. "How did you get in?"
She shrugged, stepping inside like she belonged there. "The door was unlocked."
"You really need to learn how to knock," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
Soraya ignored the jab and gave him a slow once-over. Her brows knit with concern, arms folding across her chest like a mother scolding her child without words.
"You okay?" she asked quietly. "You look like crap."
Tari groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "Ughhhh… Don't remind me."
Soraya walked over and stood at the edge of his bed, not saying anything for a moment. Just watching him.
"You haven't slept, have you?" she asked softly.
"…Not really."
"What is it this time?
He almost told her. About the liquid. About the patrols. About the way something in the air last night had watched him. But before he could answer, she added, "There's… something going on. Near the grand hall. Come on."
They joined the stream of students heading down toward the academy's plaza. Tari barely kept pace. His heart beat faster with every step. He didn't like crowds, didn't like noise—and today, the academy felt off. Too many whispering mouths. Too many heads turned toward the main gate.
Then he saw it.
A crowd had formed around the wide, arched entrance to the Grand Halls. Students whispered, backed away, or craned their necks to look over shoulders. Something—someone—was lying on the stone floor.
A boy in the Solaris uniform.
Blood pooled around him in a jagged circle. His neck was cleanly slit, almost surgically so, and his eyes—glassy, open, vacant—stared skyward. His skin had turned an unnatural shade, drained of warmth.
As if his soul had been sucked out.
Tari felt his knees go weak.
"No… no way…" he whispered.
Then he recognized the bag beside the corpse. The half-drawn sketchpad on the ground. The loose headphone cord trailing out from the pocket.
Keal.... Soraya muttered in shock
His stomach heaved. Soraya gripped his arm.
The scene was already being swarmed. Solaris faculty in midnight-blue jackets cordoned the area with barrier tape. But it was the Capital Officers who arrived next,tall men in black vests and armored gear, barking orders and pushing students away.
Then came the black vans.
Out stepped a team of individuals in pristine white suits reinforced with black armored plating. One of them, taller than the rest, wore distinguished shoulder pads bearing a strange violet sigil, a triangle in a broken circle
The ICU.
Tari froze. He'd heard rumors,everyone had. They didn't just investigate. They executed on suspicion. They called it cleansing.
He tried to step back, but a voice rang out.
"Hold him!"
Rough hands seized his shoulders.
"Wait—no! What's going on?!"
He was dragged forward, stumbling into the circle of officers.
"He's the roommate!" a voice yelled. "They found the body just outside his dorm building!"
"The dorm???... what is he talking about..." Tari said to himself confused
"I didn't—!" Tari's voice cracked. "I didn't even—!"
A few students tried to speak up. One girl along side Soraya rushed to his defense.
"Let him go!! we stay at the same dorm they were close friends he couldn't do anything like that!" the girl said
"He didn't do it! He's my friend—we came together!"
Another student shouted, "Keal was his roommate! That doesn't mean anything!"
"Let him go!" Soraya screamed.
The ICU men said nothing. Cold, unmoving, masks featureless except for faint runes glowing at their jaws.
The one with the shoulder pads raised a hand, signaling silence. His eyes swept the scene—until they locked with someone in the crowd.
Tari's eyes followed the direction of the glance.
Elian stood there, stunned, as the ICU officer's eyes met his. A long, silent moment passed. Something unreadable flickered in the officer's gaze.
Then he turned away.
Tari was shoved forward. His knees hit the cold stone.
"I didn't kill him!" he yelled, voice cracking, raw with desperation. "He was my friend! I would never—!"
The ICU agents moved in, their boots thudding in slow, ominous rhythm across the cold floor. One of them, tall and faceless beneath the reflective helm, stepped forward.
"We'll take it from here," the agent said flatly.
He turned, breath shallow, lips parting to speak maybe to plead but never got the chance.
A sharp thud came from behind.
Everything went dark.
TO BE CONTINUED...