I woke to the sound of quiet breathing. Not mine.
The ceiling above me was the academy's sterile white — the kind that made you forget what time it was. My body felt heavy, like someone had replaced my blood with sand.
My eyes drifted to the side.
Emi sat slouched in a chair beside the bed, head resting on her folded arms against the edge. Her hair spilled over the blanket, catching the pale light from the lamp. Bandages wrapped her thigh, but she hadn't changed clothes — the academy-issued jacket still rumpled, faint traces of dust and dried blood clinging to it.
She must've stayed.
I let my gaze linger a second longer, then scanned the rest of the room.
Across from me, Kaito was out cold in another bed, his face turned toward the wall. Even asleep, he looked beat-up — cheek bruised, one arm in a sling. His chest rose and fell evenly, though, so I guessed he was fine.
Beyond him, the door's glass panel framed two silhouettes. Guards. Stationary. Their shoulders were square, hands behind their backs, academy insignia glinting faintly in the hall light.
I tried to shift, but a dull ache flared in my ribs and legs. My body disagreed with the idea of moving.
A rustle to my right. Emi stirred, eyes half-opening. When she realized I was awake, relief flashed over her features before she masked it with her usual composure.
"You're up," she said softly.
"Guess so," I muttered, my voice rough. "How long?"
"About a day. Maybe more." Her gaze lingered on me for a moment before she added, "You gave me a scare, collapsing like that."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. My head was still fogged, memories drifting in pieces — Kaito's voice calling for backup, Vance's blade, the sound of steel meeting steel… and then the flash of violet light. My violet light.
Emi leaned back in the chair with a slow exhale, stretching her arms above her head until her joints popped. "You're lucky we had backup," she said, glancing toward the other bed.
A groan answered her.
I turned my head — slow, because the room tilted when I did — and saw Kaito stirring under his blanket. He blinked at the ceiling, then at me, then gave a half-smile that didn't quite hide the bruises on his face.
"Well," he rasped, voice rough but teasing, "look who finally woke up. Was starting to think you were gonna milk that coma for attention."
I tried to smirk back, but it came out more like a grimace. "Yeah, well… figured I'd let you handle things for once."
Kaito huffed, immediately regretting it when the motion made him wince. "Please. If it wasn't for him, we'd both be fertilizer right now."
"Him?" I asked.
Kaito's eyes flicked toward the window. From here, I could just make out the silhouettes of two figures standing outside the door — tall, still, armed. Academy security.
"Our backup," Kaito said, lowering his voice like the walls might be listening. "Kuro Rhys. You've seriously never heard of him?"
The name didn't ring a bell. "Should I have?"
Kaito looked at me like I'd just said I didn't know what Spectra was. "Not a household name outside, but in the Academy? He's the name. Violet Spectra. Level two hundred. They call him The Limit — because he's literally the highest anyone's ever reached. Close-range specialist. Can make constructs faster than most people can blink. And… a lot of people think he's the strongest Spectra user alive."
I blinked. "…And they sent him for us?"
Kaito's mouth curled into something between a grin and a wince. "They sent him for you, for Vance… and because we were all basically done for."
I frowned. "Meaning?"
"When I called it in," Kaito said, shifting uncomfortably against his pillow, "I told them three things. First — you'd pulled a Violet change mid-fight. Second — Vance wasn't what he looked like. He was hiding his spectra with illusion magic… turns out he's Violet. Third — we were all on the ground, out of the fight, and you were the only one still moving. You were buying us time."
The weight of that last part sat heavy.
I'd known Vance was Violet before we even crossed punches — he'd shown it himself, like he wanted us to understand exactly what we were up against. And in the fight, it was impossible to forget; the speed that ripped through my guard, the weight in every strike, the way each hit threatened to end it outright.
But hearing Kaito spell out the rest — that I'd been the last one standing, that I'd kept him occupied long enough for backup to reach us — that hit harder than any of those blows.
In the moment, it hadn't felt like holding the line. It had felt like clawing for every breath, one heartbeat from the ground.
"And Kuro?" I asked.
Kaito's grin was faint, tired. "If the Academy hears a report like that — Violet enemy, rookie pulling a Spectra change mid-fight, entire squad down — they don't just send help. They send the guy they know can win without anyone dying. That's Kuro Rhys."
Less than five percent of users ever changed Spectra. Violet changes? You could count those on one hand. And apparently, that was enough to put me on the same priority list as a high-level threat.
A knock — two short taps — broke the lull.
The guards outside shifted, one stepping aside to open the door.
And there he was.
Kuro Rhys didn't so much walk into the room as he strolled in like he'd just wandered off a sunny street and accidentally found himself in a hospital wing. Black jacket hanging open, shirt collar loose, gloves tucked into his belt. His hair looked like it had lost a polite argument with the wind, and his eyes — faintly violet even without his Spectra lit — scanned the room in one lazy sweep before landing on me.
"Well," he said, grinning like he'd caught me doing something embarrassing, "you're not dead. Guess I didn't make the trip for nothing."
I blinked. "Uh… thanks?"
"Don't thank me yet," he said, crossing the room in unhurried steps, like there wasn't a single thing in the world that could push him to move faster. He stopped beside my bed, looking me over with the kind of casual appraisal you give a car you're thinking about buying. "You're Akira, right? The rookie who decided to play chicken with a Violet and somehow didn't end up a smear on the floor?"
I opened my mouth, but Kaito beat me to it, his voice scratchy but amused. "He's also the reason you didn't have to scrape us off that floor yourself."
Kuro glanced at Kaito, gave him a faint, knowing nod, then looked back at me. "Not bad. Most rookies in your position would've been scenery before I even got here."
I wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or a diagnosis. "You're… different from what I pictured," I said before I could stop myself.
He raised an eyebrow. "Different how?"
"I don't know. Less… formal?"
He grinned wider, leaning in slightly. "Kid, I'm not here to polish medals. I'm here to make sure people go home in one piece. Whether that's you, or your friends, or your enemies… well, that depends on the day."
There was an easy confidence to him, the kind that didn't come from ego alone — it was the weight of someone who'd already proven himself enough times that he didn't need to try anymore. And yet, something in his tone made it clear he was already filing me away in whatever mental list he kept.
"You've got questions," Kuro said, almost reading my face.
"Plenty."
He tilted his head toward the door. "Save them for when you can walk without looking like you just fought a train. For now, I just wanted to see the kid who made the higher-ups scramble a Level 200 in the middle of lunch."
Kaito made a low whistle. "You were at lunch?"
"Best ramen in the district," Kuro replied without missing a beat. "Then I get the call: 'Violet enemy, rookie Spectra change, team down.' I figured, either I'm saving the day or I'm watching a spectacular disaster in real time. Win-win for me."
Emi had been quiet until now, but her voice cut through, dry but edged. "So what's your verdict?"
Kuro looked at her, then back at me, tapping his chin like he was considering. "Verdict? He's either the luckiest rookie I've met, or the most dangerous. Not sure which yet. I'll let you know after I see him fight when he's not three heartbeats from keeling over."
I wasn't sure how to respond to that. The fact that it came from him made it feel heavier than if anyone else had said it.
He straightened, already turning toward the door. "Get your rest, Akira. You're on someone's radar now, and trust me — that's the fun part."
And just like that, he was gone, the door clicking softly shut behind him.
I sank back against the pillow, the weight of his words settling in.
Someone's radar.
I didn't know if that was a warning or a promise.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the room quieter than before. Emi shifted in her chair again, stretching her legs out with a faint wince.
I let the silence sit a beat before asking, "What happened to Vance?"
Her eyes flicked to me, then away. "Gone."
"Gone as in…?"
"As in, Kuro took him to Black Hollow himself."
I frowned. "Never heard of it."
"You wouldn't have," she said, her voice low. "It's not on any map or brochure. Black Hollow's where they send people like Vance — high-tier Spectra users who can't be trusted anywhere else. The whole place is wrapped in suppression fields that scramble your spectra. Doesn't matter if you're Green or Violet… in there, you're just another body with nothing left to throw."
I tried to picture Vance — all that speed, that relentless precision — locked in a place where his Spectra couldn't even flicker. The thought should have felt like justice. Instead, it just felt… final.
Emi's gaze lingered on me, like she could read that hesitation. "He's not getting out, Akira. And if anyone could make sure of that, it's The Limit."
I lay back, the weight of everything pressing into me again — the fight, the change, the fact that Kuro Rhys had just walked into my life like a storm front. And somewhere, in a cell built to smother the spark that made him dangerous, Vance was sitting in silence.
I wasn't sure which of us would sleep easier tonight.
My head sank deeper into the pillow, eyes tracing the sterile white above me. My ribs still ached, my muscles felt wrung dry, but none of that compared to the strange hum that sat just under my skin.
Violet.
Even thinking the word felt wrong — like it belonged to someone else. Less than a handful of people ever made the jump, and now I had. Not because I'd trained for it. Not because I'd earned it. Because my back was to the wall, and there was no other choice.
Somewhere in the hall, boots echoed against tile. Probably Kuro leaving the wing.
His parting grin replayed in my head. They sent him for you.
For the first time since I woke up, my pulse quickened. Kuro Rhys had seen me fight. He'd seen me change. And the way he'd looked at me before walking out… it wasn't just curiosity. It was something heavier.
Interest.
That was the part that unsettled me most.
I closed my eyes, letting the weight of the day pull me under.
If "The Limit" had his eye on me now…
…I wasn't sure if that made me safer — or marked me for something I wasn't ready for.