The lesson ended.
Students dispersed in clusters—some excited, some shaken, most confused.
Aiden walked alone.
Like always.
His pace was steady, his expression neutral, his presence… quieter again. Whatever had slipped out during the spar was gone, buried deep beneath layers of control.
But not forgotten.
"…You're being watched," the Primordial voice murmured.
Aiden didn't react outwardly.
"…I figured."
"Not by the students."
"…Yeah."
He already knew.
That gaze—
Sharp. Patient. Unrelenting.
"…The teacher."
"Yes."
Aiden turned a corner into a quieter corridor, sunlight filtering through tall windows.
"…Can you mask me better?"
A pause.
"…No."
Aiden suppressed a sigh.
"…Then I'll just act normal."
"You have already failed at that."
"…Helpful."
—
Behind him—
Far enough to remain unseen.
Close enough to observe.
She followed.
Her steps made no sound.
Her presence left no trace.
But her eyes—
Never left him.
The silver-haired instructor moved like a shadow through the academy halls, her red eyes faintly glowing as she watched the boy ahead.
"…You felt it too," she murmured softly to herself.
Not magic.
Not aura.
Something else.
Something that didn't belong.
And yet—
It was inside him.
—
Aiden stepped outside into a quieter courtyard.
Fewer students.
More space.
More silence.
He exhaled slowly.
"…She's still there."
"Yes."
"…Persistent."
"Yes."
Aiden walked toward a shaded area beneath a large tree, then stopped.
"…Alright."
A pause.
"…Let's test something."
He turned slightly—
Not fully.
Just enough.
"…You can come out," he said.
Silence.
The courtyard didn't change.
No movement.
No response.
Then—
A soft voice behind him.
"…When did you notice?"
Aiden didn't turn around completely this time.
"…A while ago."
The instructor stepped into view.
No attempt to hide now.
No need.
"…Your awareness is unusual," she said.
Aiden shrugged lightly. "I pay attention."
Her red eyes studied him again—carefully.
More carefully than before.
"…No," she said quietly.
"…You perceive differently."
Aiden didn't respond.
Inside—
"She's dangerous."
"Yes."
"…Not because she's stronger."
"No."
"…Because she's observant."
"Yes."
—
She stepped closer.
Slowly.
Not threatening.
But deliberate.
"You suppressed it again," she said.
Aiden tilted his head slightly. "I don't know what you mean."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"…You're consistent."
Aiden said nothing.
They stood in silence for a moment.
The air between them—
Still.
Tense.
Not hostile.
But not safe either.
"…You allowed yourself to be hit earlier," she continued.
Aiden blinked once.
"…Yes."
"Why?"
Aiden shrugged.
"…Didn't feel like fighting."
Her gaze sharpened.
"That's not the answer."
Aiden met her eyes.
"…It's the only one I'm giving."
A pause.
Then—
She exhaled softly.
"…You're either very brave…"
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"…or very dangerous."
Aiden didn't smile.
"…Maybe both."
That made her stop.
Just for a second.
Something in his tone—
Not arrogance.
Not defiance.
Certainty.
—
The wind shifted slightly.
Leaves rustled.
And for the briefest moment—
That feeling returned.
Faint.
Almost nonexistent.
But there.
Ancient.
Watching.
Her pupils contracted slightly.
"…There it is again."
Aiden's expression didn't change.
"…You keep saying that."
She stepped closer.
Closer than before.
Now just a few feet away.
"…Whatever is inside you…"
Her voice dropped slightly.
"…it's not meant to exist in this form."
Silence.
Aiden held her gaze.
"…I didn't choose it."
That—
Was the first honest thing he'd said.
She noticed.
Of course she did.
"…No," she said quietly.
"…I don't think you did."
—
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Then—
She stepped back.
Not retreating.
But deciding.
"…I won't report you."
Aiden blinked.
That—he didn't expect.
"…Why not?"
Her faint smile returned.
"…Because I want to see what happens."
Aiden frowned slightly.
"…That doesn't sound reassuring."
"It shouldn't."
She turned slightly, her silver hair catching the light.
"But understand this," she added, glancing back at him.
"If you lose control…"
Her red eyes gleamed.
"…I will stop you."
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Aiden studied her for a moment.
Then nodded once.
"…Fair."
—
She walked away.
This time, not hiding it.
Not pretending.
Just leaving.
But the weight of her presence lingered.
—
Aiden remained under the tree.
Quiet.
Still.
"…Well," he muttered.
"That could've gone worse."
"Yes."
"…She's not an enemy."
"Not yet."
Aiden exhaled.
"…And the others?"
"They are watching."
"…Yeah."
Five of them.
One teacher.
And an entire academy starting to feel something they couldn't understand.
Aiden looked up at the sky through the branches.
"…This is getting complicated."
"Yes."
A faint pause.
Then the voice added—
"…But also inevitable."
Aiden closed his eyes briefly.
"…Yeah."
Inevitable.
The word lingered.
Because deep down—
He knew.
This wasn't something he could hide forever.
It wasn't just power.
It was something older.
Something that didn't belong in this world.
And now—
They were starting to notice.
Which meant one thing.
Soon—
They wouldn't just be watching anymore