Lyra sat on the edge of Jake's desk, her amber eyes scanning the room like she was checking for listening devices. Soren closed the door, his heart rate already climbing. She'd never come to his dorm before. Never looked this serious.
"What politics?" he asked.
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she picked up a small device from her pocket, activated it, and set it on the desk. A faint hum filled the room. "White noise. In case anyone's listening."
"You're being that careful?"
"Clan families are always listening." She folded her arms. "Steelheart and Shadowmane have been competing for control of the academy's top recruits for generations. Every student who shows exceptional growth becomes a piece on the board. You're the newest piece."
"I'm tenth place. Not exactly exceptional."
"Tenth place with two weeks of training and insect DNA that should've killed you." Her eyes met his, and there was no mockery in them. "That's exactly the kind of anomaly both families want. You're not just fast—you're unprecedented. Insect DNA users don't survive integration at ten percent. You did. Insect DNA users don't make top ten. You did. Insect DNA users don't figure out strike enhancement in weeks. You did."
He sat on his bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The room felt smaller with her in it, charged with something he couldn't name. "So what? You're both just trying to recruit me?"
"It's more complicated." She stood, paced to the window. Outside, the city lights painted her profile in shades of blue and gold. "My family sees potential in you. Your growth curve, your adaptability, your enhancement instincts. Steelheart sees the same thing. But we want different things."
"What do you want?"
She turned. "Shadowmane believes in biological supremacy. Pure DNA enhancement, no technology. We think the future belongs to those who embrace evolution, not machine parts."
"And Steelheart?"
"Technology. Augmentation. They think DNA is just raw material that machines can improve." She leaned against the windowsill, her posture deceptively casual. "Two philosophies. Two families. Both want you to prove their approach is better."
"I'm not picking sides. I just want to train."
A humorless smile crossed her face. "That's not how it works. Once you're on their radar, neutrality isn't an option. You either align with one family or both see you as a threat to be neutralized."
"Neutralized?" The word hung in the air. "You mean killed?"
"I mean made irrelevant. Blacklisted. Denied resources. Targeted in 'accidents' during training." She shrugged, but her jaw was tight. "Clan politics isn't a game, Cross. People die. Careers end. My family has buried three cousins who got caught between factions."
Soren processed that in silence. In his previous life, politics meant university committees and research grants. Here, it meant survival.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked. "You're Shadowmane. Shouldn't you want me to fall in line?"
She was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was lower. "My family has been pushing me to choose a direction. To pick someone to... cultivate. An ally, a partner, a symbol of the next generation. I'd rather it be someone I trust than someone they pick for me."
"Trust? We've known each other two weeks."
"And in two weeks, you've almost died, held tenth place, and didn't run when the survival scenario got hard." She met his eyes. "That's more than most people show in years."
He didn't know what to say to that. The room felt too warm.
"The assessment tomorrow," she continued, moving back to the desk. "My mother will be watching. Zara's father too. They'll be evaluating not just your performance, but how you handle pressure, how you react to setbacks, who you gravitate toward. Everything you do will be interpreted as a political signal."
"That's insane."
"Welcome to clan life." She picked up the white noise device, slipped it back into her pocket. "I'm telling you this because I don't want you to get crushed by games you didn't choose to play. Do your best tomorrow. Don't let the pressure get to you. And remember—whatever Zara offers, whatever data she collects, she's still a Steelheart. Everything serves the family."
She moved toward the door.
"Lyra."
She paused, hand on the frame.
"Your family—they're using you too, aren't they?"
Her back was to him, but he saw her shoulders stiffen. "We're all being used, beetle boy. Some of us just know the rules better."
She left before he could respond.
Jake returned a minute later, looking like he'd been listening at the door. Which he probably had.
"Well," Jake said, collapsing onto his bed, "that was intense."
"You heard?"
"Enough." He stared at the ceiling. "Clan politics. Knew it was gonna get complicated eventually."
"Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Because you were the insect DNA guy who almost died during integration. Nobody expected you to matter this fast." Jake pulled up his AR display, scrolling through something. "But now? You're eleven percent integration, you've got two top-ranked students fighting over who gets to mentor you, and you just got a warning from a clan heir about family politics. Yeah, you matter now."
Soren lay back on his bed. His brain was spinning. He thought about the assessment, about Lyra's mother watching, about Zara's data collection, about the word "neutralized."
"Just focus on tomorrow," Jake said, reading his thoughts. "Assessment first. Politics later."
He was right. Probably.
Didn't make it easier.
His AR pinged. A message from an unknown ID.
Unknown: Your growth has been noted. The Steelheart family is interested in your future. We will be watching tomorrow.
Soren stared at the message, then deleted it.
Outside, the city hummed with neon and drones. Somewhere in the towers, families were making decisions about his future without his input.
[They're circling now,] the System said. Its voice was calm, clinical. [This was inevitable once you showed sustained progress.]
I didn't ask for any of this.
[No one asks to be important. It just happens. How you handle it determines whether you survive.]
He closed his eyes. Sleep didn't come easy.