The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the distance. Towan shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering between his friends. “So…” he began, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. “What’s the plan? How do we even prepare for something like this?”

Elliot leaned against the weathered stone wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His brow furrowed as he stared at the ground, deep in thought. “We’re flying blind here,” he said finally, his tone measured but edged with frustration. “Without knowing what the test involves, it’s hard to strategize. For now, sticking to our usual training might be our best bet. At least it’ll keep us sharp.”

Alira, perched on a low bench nearby, tilted her head slightly, her silver hair catching the faint light. “I agree,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “But we can’t just rely on what we’ve always done. This isn’t just another drill. We need to push ourselves harder—anticipate the unexpected.” Her piercing green eyes met Towan’s, then Elliot’s, as if challenging them to rise to the occasion.

Towan ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Easier said than done. What if we’re not ready? What if we’re walking into something we can’t handle?”

Elliot pushed off the wall, his expression hardening. “Then we figure it out. Together. We’ve faced worse, haven’t we?” His voice carried a quiet confidence, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed his unease.

Towan stood, his movements graceful but deliberate. “We’ll start at dawn,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Double the drills, triple the focus. And we’ll keep our eyes open for any clues about what’s coming. If we’re going to do this, we do it right.”

Alira hesitated, then nodded, a flicker of determination replacing the doubt in her eyes. “Alright. Dawn it is.”

The three exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between them. The road ahead was uncertain, but they were in it together—ready or not.

The room felt emptier after Alira left, the air heavy with unspoken words. Towan leaned against the windowsill, staring out at the fading light of dusk, while Elliot lingered near the door, his usual confidence replaced by a rare unease.

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“Hey, Towan…” Elliot began, his voice low and serious, cutting through the quiet. “About what I was going to tell you earlier…”

Towan turned, his brow furrowing as he caught the gravity in Elliot’s tone. “Yeah? What is it?”

Elliot hesitated, his jaw tightening as if weighing his words. “During your fight with Rheon—right before you landed your last attack—”

“I know,” Towan interrupted, his voice calm but edged with something darker.

Elliot blinked, caught off guard. “Huh?”

Towan’s gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing as he stepped away from the window. “Someone tampered with my channels. When I was bedridden, I replayed the fight in my head over and over. There was a moment—a split second—where something felt… off. I didn’t catch it then, but I do now.” He paused, his voice dropping. “You looked into it, didn’t you?”

Elliot stared at him, his surprise giving way to a grim nod. “Yeah. Sylra noticed it too. We dug into it, but…” He trailed off, his expression tightening. “The person who poisoned your breakfast was found dead before we could question them.”

Towan’s fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening. “Dead? Convenient.”

“Too convenient,” Elliot agreed, his voice sharp. “I spent days in the library, trying to piece it together. The technique they used on you—it destabilized your channels, creating openings for corruption to seep in. My best guess? You released so much energy in that final strike that the corruption couldn’t fully take hold. But it still left its mark.”

Towan’s eyes flickered with a mix of anger and understanding. He crossed his arms, his mind racing as he replayed the fight in his head once more. The unsettling sensation he’d brushed off at the time now made sickening sense. “Makes sense…” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“They’ll be here,” Elliot said, his voice low and edged with a sharp seriousness that cut through the stillness of the room. His eyes, usually calm and calculating, now burned with an intensity that betrayed the weight of his words. “This is the perfect opportunity for them. They won’t pass it up.”

“I agree,” Towan replied, his voice steady but laced with a quiet urgency. His gaze narrowed, scanning the room as if the shadows themselves might betray their enemies. “They could easily blend in with the other students. A crowded hall, chaos, distractions—it’s exactly the kind of cover they’d use. We’ll need to stay sharp when the time comes.”

The air between them felt heavy, charged with unspoken tension. After a brief but deliberate exchange, the two settled into meditation, their bodies still, their breaths syncing in a slow, rhythmic flow. The faint hum of Essentia—the life force they both wielded—began to ripple around them, a subtle energy that seemed to weave through the air like threads of light. Elliot’s hands rested on his knees, palms upturned, his focus inward. Towan mirrored him, his brow furrowed slightly as he channeled his energy.