The morning after the assessment, everything felt… louder.
Not literally. The academy moved with its usual pace—students dragging feet across polished tiles, trace bands beeping with class schedules, instructors reciting the day's rotations.
But Donnie felt like he was walking inside glass. Like something had shifted between him and the world. Like every step was being watched—even though no eyes were visibly following him.
He glanced at his Trace Band again.
> [Monitoring: Active]
[Classification: Under Review – Category Gray]
That label hadn't vanished.
Not since last night.
He had tried powering down the device. Nothing changed. He had tried rerouting the trace data through dummy rehearsals. Still there.
He was flagged.
And it wasn't Ridgewood that had flagged him.
It was higher.
---
"Reeve."
He turned.
Instructor Crane stood at the hallway junction near the East combat sector, arms folded, expression unreadable.
"You've been reassigned."
Donnie frowned. "To where?"
"Not Room B-4 anymore. You're being moved into a side unit under the Defense Faculty. Independent monitoring. Controlled environment."
Donnie narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"
Crane looked over his shoulder before stepping closer.
"It means someone upstairs wants to know what you're building—and they don't want it spreading."
"They're isolating me."
Crane didn't respond.
"You knew this would happen."
"I gave you space to grow," Crane said. "But if your trace is showing signs of uncontrolled deviation, they'll take over."
"It's not dangerous," Donnie said. "It's just... different."
"That's not how the system works. Different is dangerous if it can't be measured."
Donnie's jaw tightened.
"Is this still my assessment?"
Crane gave him a rare look—something between regret and warning.
"No. This is theirs now."
---
Donnie was taken to a chamber below the administrative wing. This one wasn't like B-4. It was colder, brighter, and lined with trace monitors built into every surface. Two technicians sat behind glass, not speaking to him as they initialized his Trace Band.
They didn't ask for permission.
The screen on the far wall lit up.
> [Test Subject: Donnie Reeve]
[Category: Unclassified Hybrid Trace]
[Current Development: 29%]
[Trace Activity: Manually Triggered]
[Task: Perform Flame Spiral + Original Variant]
A synthetic voice followed.
> "Please perform the hybrid movement sequence. Full power. Two iterations."
Donnie looked at the screen, then at the dummy ahead.
So this is how it starts.
He stepped forward, adjusted his stance, and built the flame spiral. He didn't rush. He shaped it with control, letting the flame curl as it had in Crane's room.
The movement completed.
No reaction from the staff behind the glass.
He tried a second time.
This time, he added a vertical lift at the end. A new variant. The flame tilted, then veered upward, slashing the dummy's upper region. The band flickered.
> New Pattern Detected – Ascending Spiral (2%)
Status: Unstable
Notification Sent to Higher Review
Donnie lowered his hand.
The voice returned.
> "Thank you. You may return to your room."
That was it.
No feedback. No rating. No dismissal.
Just data.
---
Back in his dorm, he dropped onto the bed, barely resisting the urge to smash the Trace Band into the wall. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, his breathing shallow.
He checked the band again.
Still flagged.
Still under review.
A quiet knock at the door startled him.
He sat up fast.
"Who is it?"
"It's Veera."
He opened it.
She stepped inside without waiting for permission. Her usual smirk was absent.
"I heard they pulled you."
Donnie nodded. "Just came back."
"And?"
"They're logging everything. I don't even get to train freely anymore."
Veera sat on his chair. "You're not the only one flagged."
Donnie looked up. "What?"
"Lucen. He got flagged last semester. But his was a fake alert—turned out someone spiked his trace readings during a Guild trial simulation."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because he had to go through the exact same process. They tagged him. Then tested him under surveillance. Just like you."
"What happened to him?"
"He passed. Barely. They still don't trust him. But they let him stay."
Donnie rubbed his face. "They're not trying to trust me. They're trying to break me."
"Then don't let them."
He glanced at her. "It's not that easy."
"I didn't say it was."
She stood and walked toward the door.
"I'll help you where I can. But you need to decide something soon."
"Decide what?"
"Whether you're going to follow the system… or outgrow it."
Then she left.
---
That night, Donnie couldn't sleep.
He activated the Trace Band and sat on the floor of his room, sketchpad beside him. No instructors. No observers. Just the soft glow of his device and the quiet hum of systems outside.
He didn't draw this time.
He meditated.
For over an hour, he visualized every movement he had learned—Lucen's arcs, Veera's staggered stance, the Spiral, the Ascending Spiral. Every motion played in his mind like a loop, each with its own rhythm.
He stood.
Took position.
Started slowly, then shifted pace—pivot, spiral, drag, lift.
A triple-move hybrid. Flame erupted, unstable but strong, curling forward in a corkscrew.
The walls didn't break.
But his heart nearly did.
> Pattern Unlocked: Spiral Surge – 5%
Variant Type: Adaptive Fire Trace
System Warning: Unique Movement Thread Detected
Then:
> Surveillance Block Engaged – Temporary Blind Spot
Donnie stared at the message.
He didn't cause that.
Someone else did.
A new message blinked underneath.
> "Keep pushing. Room 2C. After drills tomorrow."
– T.Z.
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