The training courtyard had never felt so peaceful.
Soft morning light spilled across the shimmering tiles, warm and gold, stretching over the practice dummies and polished rails. A faint breeze drifted through the upper platforms, carrying the distant hum of the Academy's aerial transports. For once, Lyria felt… calm. No lectures. No drills. No drones hovering around her waiting for accidental chaos. Just air, space, and a tiny moment of quiet.
Kairo stood beside her, arms crossed loosely, studying her Spark flow with the easy patience he had slowly—though not entirely willingly—developed over the past days.
"Again," he said. His tone was firm, but not sharp. "Smooth exhale. Not tight. You're still holding tension in your ribs."
Lyria blew out a breath and let her hand glow softly. A warm strand of golden-white light curled from her palm, thin and gentle, like the first line of a sketch in the air. It wobbled only slightly before stabilizing.
"Better," Kairo admitted. "You're starting to feel the Spark instead of wrestling it."
Lyria lowered her hand, panting slightly. "That's because someone finally stopped yelling at me."
"I don't yell."
"You absolutely do."
Kairo's eyebrow twitched upward in the way that suggested he wanted to argue but knew she wasn't wrong. "I 'project.' There's a difference."
Lyria laughed. A real, unforced laugh that surprised even her. Something in Kairo's expression softened—reluctantly—like he hadn't expected her to look that… light. Confident. Steady.
Only a week ago, her Spark had been a wild storm, unpredictable and embarrassing. Now—
"Let's try linking two points," Kairo said. "Just gentle. No rush."
Lyria nodded and stepped toward the two metallic nodes they had set up on the lower platform. With careful breath, she extended her hand again. The spark pulsed, eager, and a string of golden light flickered into being, stretching toward the first node—
—when the air suddenly shifted.
A sharp, wrong vibration trembled through the ground.
Kairo's posture stiffened instantly.
"You felt that," Lyria whispered.
"Everyone within a hundred meters felt that." His eyes sharpened. "That was Nuller resonance."
A cold prickle shot up Lyria's spine.
Nullers.
Creatures—no, distortions—of energy that fed by draining Sparks. They rarely reached the main Academy levels; security fields usually kept them far from the inner rings. Minor Nullers weren't deadly, but they were destabilizing, unpredictable, and absolutely terrifying for first-year trainees.
Kairo grabbed her wrist gently but urgently. "Stay behind me."
"But—"
"Not a discussion."
The second wave of distortion hit harder. The metallic railings buzzed and the floating lights overhead dimmed to a flicker. Lyria's Link Spark shuddered inside her chest, as if recoiling.
And then, from the far corner of the courtyard, the air tore open in a ripple of gray static.
A Nuller emerged—not large, but unmistakable. A shifting, mist-like shape outlined in flickering dark fragments, like a shadow struggling to stay solid. Its movements lagged, glitching unnaturally, and the energy around it crackled with a hollow, hungry noise.
Lyria stumbled back. "It's… smaller than I expected."
"Don't underestimate it," Kairo said sharply, stepping forward. "Nullers don't need size to drain you."
The creature screeched—soundless yet deafening—and lunged.
Kairo reacted instantly. His Skyblade Spark flared bright and sharp, forming a blade of pure, clear energy along his arm. With a fluid, trained movement, he struck in a sweeping arc. The blade met the Nuller with a sizzling crack, slicing through part of its form.
The Nuller recoiled, shrieking again.
But it didn't retreat.
It turned toward Lyria.
"Lyria!" Kairo shouted. "Back up, now—!"
She tried. But the Nuller moved faster, darting toward her like a smear of shadow dragged by a magnet. The air around her wavered, thinning—she felt her Spark flicker, tugged painfully as though invisible fingers were pulling at threads beneath her ribs.
Her breathing hitched. This was exactly what instructors warned them about: Nullers didn't harm physically—they harmed through Spark drain. And for someone like her—with a rare Link Spark, sensitive and reactive—
Her vision blurred for a heartbeat.
"Lyria!" Kairo yelled again, sprinting.
She forced herself to raise a hand. Her Link Spark pulsed, confused, frightened, but responsive. A ribbon of golden light shot outward—not as a weapon, but as a tether, linking her to the closest node. The connection grounded her Spark for a moment, holding it together.
The Nuller slammed into that tether like a wave hitting a barrier. The impact threw sparks of light across the platform, sending Lyria stumbling back. But the link held. Barely.
Kairo reached her, grabbing her shoulder to steady her. "Good thinking. Very good thinking."
"I didn't think—I just reacted," she gasped.
"Exactly. Instinct is half the battle."
The Nuller whirled back around, its shape stuttering angrily.
Kairo stepped forward in front of Lyria again, raising his arm. The Skyblade along his forearm sharpened, its light intensifying to a solid arc.
"This time," he said quietly, voice steady, "we take it out together."
Lyria blinked. "Together?"
"You're not helpless," he said. "Not anymore. When it goes after you, your Spark disrupts its rhythm—it gets unstable. If you create that opening again, I can hit its core."
Lyria swallowed. Her heart hammered like wild wings. "What if I mess it up?"
"You won't." His tone left no room for doubt. "Trust yourself. I'll cover you."
She nodded before her fear could catch up.
Kairo counted under his breath. "Three… two… one—go."
The Nuller lunged.
Lyria inhaled sharply and thrust her hand forward. Her Link Spark burst open, brighter this time—still shaky, but stronger than she had ever seen it. Multiple thin strands shot outward, splitting like branching lightning. They curved through the air, weaving into a loose, web-like pattern in front of her.
When the Nuller hit them, the strands vibrated violently, sending ripples of distorted light across its body. The creature spasmed, glitching. Its flickering fragments scattered and reformed unevenly.
"It's destabilized!" Kairo shouted. "Hold it just a second more—!"
She tried. Her hands shook as the Nuller thrashed unpredictably, draining energy from her threads. The strain built like pressure in her chest.
"I—I can't—"
"Yes, you can!" Kairo shouted, already mid-sprint. "Just one more—"
The Nuller managed to tear through part of the web, surging toward Lyria. She gasped and stepped back as sparks from her own Link flickered dangerously.
The moment of fear broke her focus—
But Kairo was already there.
His Skyblade flared intensely as he launched forward with a sweeping strike. The blade cut through the Nuller's flickering form, slicing cleanly into what seemed like empty air—yet something inside the distortion cracked in response, like shattering glass.
The Nuller froze.
Then burst apart in a fading ripple of static.
Silence followed.
A long, shaking silence.
Lyria stood there trembling, her breaths unsteady but returning. The golden threads flickered out one by one, evaporating into the morning wind.
Kairo lowered his blade and let the Spark dissolve. His shoulders rose and fell, breath sharp from the burst of exertion.
Lyria looked at him, wide-eyed. "…Did we do that?"
"We did," he said, still catching his breath. Then his expression shifted, not cold or distant—something warmer, softer. "You did great."
A confused, overwhelmed laugh escaped her. "I almost fainted."
"And you didn't. You held the link. You bought me the perfect opening." He nodded toward the dissipating flickers of gray where the Nuller had vanished. "I couldn't have landed that hit without you."
Lyria felt something warm and unfamiliar flutter in her chest. Not her Spark—something else.
Kairo straightened fully and stepped closer, searching her expression. "Are you alright? Any Spark drain symptoms?"
Lyria focused inward. Her Link Spark pulsed steadily, a little tired, but intact. "I'm okay. Just—shaken."
"That's normal." He exhaled, relieved. "First combat shock hits hard."
She nodded, letting the adrenaline slowly ebb away. Her hands still tingled where the golden threads had formed—like the Spark was proud of her. Or relieved.
Kairo looked around the courtyard. "Security will get here in a minute. Minor Nullers usually slip through when perimeter shifts happen. It wasn't targeting you specifically."
She didn't answer.
Because… admittedly… the Nuller had moved toward her. Too directly. Too quickly. It felt like it sensed her Link Spark more strongly than usual.
But she kept that thought to herself.
Kairo's voice softened, unusual for him. "Lyria."
"Hmm?"
"Today wasn't just luck." He held her gaze. "You handled yourself with courage, instinct, and control. More than some second-years I've actually seen."
She flushed slightly, caught between pride and disbelief. "You really think so?"
"If I didn't, I wouldn't have told you to fight with me." He hesitated, then added, softer: "I trust you."
A small, quiet spark ignited inside her chest—warm, steady, glowing.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Before either of them could say more, alarms blared overhead as security drones sped into the courtyard, scanning for any lingering Nuller fragments.
Kairo stepped back but kept close enough to steady her if she wobbled. "Let them scan. After that, you're taking the rest of the morning off."
"I can still train!"
"No." He shook his head firmly. "You just had your first Nuller encounter. You rest."
She wanted to argue.
But instead… she smiled faintly. "Okay."
He blinked, surprised that she actually agreed. "Good."
As the drones swept the area, Lyria took one last look at the shimmering courtyard, still humming faintly from the battle.
She wasn't the same girl who arrived at the Academy frightened, uncertain, doubting her own power.
Today had changed something.
Today, she had stood her ground.
Today, she had fought with Kairo—not as a burden or student—but as a partner.
A teammate.
And maybe… maybe even something more someday, though she didn't dare imagine too far ahead yet.
For now, she simply let the warmth settle in her heart.
Her Link Spark glowed quietly inside her, steady and proud.
Whatever challenges lay ahead, she wasn't afraid.
Not anymore.
Not when she'd proven she could fight.
Not when she wasn't alone.