The courtyard buzzed with tension even after the headmaster departed.
A handful of students cautiously approached, staring at the small crater where Ryker had landed, steam still rising from the impact.
"I've never seen lightning move like that…"
"What *was* that attack?"
"He's Tier 8? Are you sure? That didn't feel like Tier 8…"
Kian stood quietly, breathing steady despite the buzz around him. His hair was slightly tousled, static crackling through the strands. The aftershock of his smaller *Blue Moon* still trembled in the soles of his feet.
Nia came to his side, her expression unreadable. She placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"
He gave her a quiet nod. "Yeah. Just… used more than I planned."
A boy from the crowd tall, lean, and observant stepped forward. "That move wasn't in any handbook. That wasn't Stormcraft or Plasma Surge. What vein do you have?"
Kian simply replied, "Mine."
The boy chuckled. "Fair. Whatever it was, it shut Ryker up. That's a service to the whole courtyard."
Kian gave him a half-smile, but his eyes remained watchful.
The crowd began to disperse slowly, some lingering a little longer, clearly curious about the quiet newcomer who fought like thunder and walked like a storm.
As Kian and Nia walked away, whispers followed some in awe, others tinged with wariness. No one knew the name of the move. No one knew what he really was. And for now, Kian preferred it that way.
else where
The room was dimly lit, cold blue light filtering through slitted blinds. Screens on the far wall showed frozen footage a boy cloaked in green lightning standing over a crater, students scattered around him like witnesses to a god's wrath.
A Tier 2 villain stood with arms crossed, dark veins glowing faintly under pale skin a side effect of the power-enhancing drug. Horn-like growths curved just barely under the hood he wore, and his voice was gravel laced with mockery.
"That's the Balthor kid? Thought he was dead."
A second figure stepped forward, more refined in posture but no less sinister. Her eyes scanned the footage again. Her fingers danced through the air, adjusting the zoom.
"He's alive. And stronger than before. Lightning, yes but there was more. That… pull. That wasn't natural. Spatial resonance, perhaps? No record of that in his past data."
The first villain scoffed. "He's still Tier 8. Barely a threat."
"You didn't watch closely," she said coolly. "That attack it didn't match any known lightning techniques. And he didn't even flinch after using it. Whatever that move was, it's his. And it's refined."
He cracked his neck, irritated. "So what? We wait and let him tier up again?"
The woman turned, her tone sharp. "We watch and we prepare. He's unstable. Controlled now, yes but if he resonates again…"
Her voice drifted off as she opened another file: photos of Chandler and Nia. One from years ago, blurred and old, of Chandler in his prime and one from just days earlier, snapped by an informant on the street.
"The girl's improving, too. Quietly. It's not just him. And Chandler… he's supposed to be dead, too."
The horned villain growled. "Everyone who was supposed to be dead keeps crawling back."
The woman smiled faintly, eyes still on Kian's frozen form on the screen.
"Maybe the world's trying to correct itself. Or maybe we let too many seeds grow."
She turned the screen off. "Doesn't matter. Next time he uses that move, I want it recorded. Down to the frequency his veins hum at. If he's refining his powers, then we refine our destruction."