Chronos Elior

The lab's main display flickered with real-time footage from the Association testing facility. Multiple camera angles showed different aspects of the aptitude tests. But my attention focused entirely on one particular feed. Chamber Three, where Raiden and the boy called Sol were locked in what could only be described as a masterpiece of combat.

"Fascinating," Selena murmured from her position at the secondary monitoring station, her fingers dancing across holographic displays that tracked aura readings and biometric data. "His adaptation rate during this fight is off the charts. Look at these neural pathway activation patterns."

I leaned back in my chair, studying how Raiden absorbed Sol's sword techniques in real-time, his movements becoming more refined with each exchange. Even through the cameras, I could sense the way his aura was responding, learning, evolving.

"He's studying," I said quietly. "Every technique Sol demonstrates, every pattern, every flow of aura—Raiden's origin is cataloguing it all. This goes beyond simple combat."

The display showed Sol launching into a complex combination of strikes, his blade work a thing of beauty. What caught my attention was Raiden's response. His physical movements adapted, and beyond that, his aura began mirroring certain aspects of Sol's technique, integrating elements that complemented his hand-to-hand style.

"This is unprecedented," Selena said, her voice filled with scientific excitement. "Most people spend years training to integrate new techniques. He's doing it mid-combat."

I nodded, but my focus had shifted to something else entirely. The way the two boys moved together, the synchronization of their auras, the almost supernatural understanding they seemed to share.

"Selena," I said slowly, "pull up Sol's registration data."

Her fingers moved across the interface, bringing up a new window on the main display. Basic information, test scores, background details. But it was the aura signature analysis that made me sit forward in my chair.

I glanced at the window next to it, labeled "Rai-Bear." I blinked at the sheer volume of information she'd somehow accessed: medical records, family genealogy, psychological profiles, even what appeared to be childhood behavioral assessments.

"Selena," I said carefully, "what exactly did you sneak onto Rai to get this level of data?"

She continued typing, her eyes never leaving the screen. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said in that innocent tone that fooled absolutely no one. "This is all publicly available information."

"Publicly available," I repeated flatly, studying what looked like Sol's dietary preferences and sleep patterns. "Right..."

"Well," I said softly, deciding to let it slide for now. "That's interesting."

The feed switched to show the aftermath of their epic battle, both boys walking away from the platform with that easy camaraderie that spoke of genuine friendship formed through combat. I was about to comment on the remarkable connection they'd formed when the camera angle shifted to show something else entirely.

Killing intent. Sharp and focused, cutting through the celebratory atmosphere like a blade.

I tensed as Rai spun and caught the attacking wrist with perfect timing. Sol's sword appeared at the attacker's throat. The dagger gleamed in the high elf's hand.

My chair creaked as I sat forward, every muscle in my body coiling. Someone had just attempted to assassinate Rai on A.A. grounds. The Oath didn't take effect, which meant his life wasn't really at risk. Even if he had been stabbed, his location is within A.A. grounds, where they have Red Ranked healers on standby in nearly every sector.

Regardless, this isn't something I will take lightly.

"Selena," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "I need to know who—"

I turned to look at her and stopped mid-sentence. She was already working, her fingers flying across multiple interfaces with the kind of manic intensity I'd only seen when she was completely obsessed with a problem.

"How dare they," she muttered, her voice barely audible but vibrating with barely contained fury. "How DARE they try to harm my Rai-Bear!"

Information cascaded across her screens faster than I could follow: student records, family lineages, financial connections, communication logs. Her access to A.A. databases was frighteningly comprehensive.

"Renith Aelthorne," she said, her voice taking on that clinical tone she used when analyzing data. "High elf nobility from the Astralmar Clan. Connected through marriage to the Silverpeak family. And his accomplice..." Another screen populated with data. "Kaelan Morvaine, also high elf nobility, from the Luminspire House. Both families have deep financial ties to the Silverpeaks. And the Silverpeaks..." Her fingers paused over the interface. "Have been major financial backers of the Brightmoor family for three generations."

I felt the pieces clicking into place. "The Brightmoors. The family whose assets we forced them to transfer to Rai."

"All $1.2 billion worth," Selena said, her voice growing darker. "After Vaelik broke your warning and you made him kneel. That was supposed to be private, Chronos. No witnesses except family." Her screens shifted to show communication intercepts. "But look at this—encrypted messages between Astralmar and Brightmoor representatives from two days ago."

She pulled up the decoded text, and I read over her shoulder. Vague references to "restoring honor," "teaching lessons," and "ensuring proper respect for our allies."

"Someone leaked what happened in Elias's office," I said, the full scope of the conspiracy becoming clear. "The asset seizure, the forced submission, Vaelik's defeat—all of it."

Her hands stilled on the interfaces. "The Silverpeaks learned their financial partners were brought to their knees by a 'commoner.' More importantly, they learned we forced the Brightmoors to hand over everything they owned on Earth."

"And they see it as an attack on the entire old-blood power structure," I finished. "Rather than one family's loss, they view it as a threat to their way of life."

"They leaked Rai-Bear's exam schedule," Selena said quietly. "Coordinated this assassination attempt across multiple families. This wasn't spontaneous revenge—this was organized political retaliation."

Selena sat perfectly still for a moment, then slowly turned to look at me. Her eyes held the kind of cold fury that made smart people very nervous.

"They think they can organize a hit on my Rai-Bear," she said quietly. "They think they can coordinate revenge against someone under my protection because their allies lost face in private." Her voice dropped to a whisper that somehow felt more threatening than a shout. "They have no idea who they're dealing with."

I'd seen Selena angry before. I'd seen her frustrated, excited, obsessed. But this was different. This was the kind of protective rage that toppled governments and ended bloodlines.

"This is bigger than academy politics," I said carefully. "If multiple families are coordinating against Rai over what happened with the Brightmoors, if they're willing to risk assassination on A.A. grounds..."

"They're trying to send a message," Selena finished. "Show that the old families won't tolerate anyone—no matter who's protecting them—undermining their authority." She turned back to her screens, her fingers moving with renewed purpose. "Well, I have a message for them, too."

"Actually," I said, leaning back in my chair, "we can leave the green ranks to Rai. I'm confident he can take care of himself now, especially with his new friend it seems."

Selena paused, her fingers hovering over the interface. "But—"

"Anyone who tries to overstep," I continued, "anyone higher ranked than him who thinks they can interfere directly—that's where we come in. Let him gain experience with opponents at his level. He'll learn more that way."

I gestured toward the screen showing Rai and Sol walking together. "Besides, he'll be safer at the academies. Better security, more oversight. Less opportunity for coordinated family politics."

Selena pouted, then slowly minimized a window that had been displaying what looked suspiciously like a detailed hit list with names, addresses, and various creative elimination methods labeled "All Associated Parties."

"You'll get your chance," I assured her. "If any Blue or higher ranks decide to get involved."

Her expression brightened slightly at that prospect.

"So," she said, closing the hit list entirely, "what academy should he apply for? I could pull some strings, make sure he gets into whichever one we think is best."

I shook my head. "That won't be necessary. I'm confident he'll get good offers on his own merit, but more importantly, I want him to earn everything he gets. It'll mean more to him that way."

I considered which academy he might choose for a moment. "Any of the top five would be excellent for his development. But knowing Rai..." I smiled slightly. "I have a pretty good idea which one he'll choose, regardless of what we recommend."

"Which one?"

"The one that'll give him the most interesting fights."

Ella Vel'areis

I pressed my face deeper into my pillow and groaned.

What is wrong with me?

Three days. Three entire days since the spar, and I still couldn't get it out of my head. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same moment: Raiden pinned beneath me after I'd finally managed a clean takedown, both of us breathing hard, both grinning like idiots.

And then I'd kissed him.

Gods, I actually kissed him.

The memory made my stomach flip in ways that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with wanting to do it again. Which was exactly the problem.

I'd told myself it was just the adrenaline. The rush of finally beating him in a fair fight, of proving I could match him when we were both at full strength. That's all it was. A moment of impulse brought on by victory and excitement.

Except I'd been lying to myself for three days straight, and even I wasn't buying it anymore.

"Lady Ella?"

Ysolda's voice drifted from somewhere in my room, probably near the wardrobe where she'd been organizing my training gear. "You need to get up. It's past noon."

I mumbled something into the pillow that even I couldn't understand.

"Lady Ella."

"Five more minutes," I managed, my voice muffled by silk and self-pity. "And it's Ella, drop the title Ysolda!"

"You said that an hour ago," she said, casually ignoring what I said about titles.

Had I? Time felt meaningless when you were busy reliving the moment you'd completely lost your mind and kissed your sparring partner like some romance novel protagonist.

I heard Ysolda moving around the room, probably finishing up the cleaning she'd been doing while I wallowed. She'd been trying to get me up and functioning for the better part of the morning, but nothing was working. Every time I started to sit up, my brain would helpfully replay the kiss in perfect detail, and I'd collapse back into the bed with a groan.

"Lady Ella, if you don't get up, I'm going to have to take drastic measures."

"Your drastic measures don't scare me," I mumbled into the pillow. "I've survived worse."

"Have you now?"

There was something in her tone that should have warned me. A hint of mischief that I was too distracted to catch. If I hadn't been busy drowning in my own thoughts, I might have noticed the sound of her pulling out her communication device.

Then I heard it.

Raiden's voice, clear and unmistakable, coming from across the room.

"Once I graduate,then yeah."

My ears twitched involuntarily. I turned my head just enough to peek over the pillow, and my heart nearly stopped.

Ysolda was sitting in the chair near my desk, holding her phone up with a satisfied smirk on her face. On the screen was security footage from the training hall, footage of our spar three days ago.

"You're not gonna send me off with another kiss?"

Even through the phone's speakers, I could hear the teasing in his voice, could see that impish grin on his face as he'd said it.

"Where did you get that?" I asked, my voice coming out higher than I'd intended.

"Lady Illya sent it to me," Ysolda said casually, keeping her eyes on the screen. "Said it was 'character development documentation' and that I should 'preserve it for posterity.'"

On the screen, I watched my past self turn red, ears and all, before rolling her eyes and walking away. But Ysolda wasn't stopping there. She swiped left, and another video began playing.

I watched myself pinning Raiden to the mat, watched the way we'd both been breathing hard, both grinning like we'd discovered something wonderful. And then I watched myself lean down and—

My face went nuclear.

"Turn it off," I said weakly.

"But it's such a lovely moment," Ysolda said innocently. "Look how happy you both look."

She was right, and that was the worst part. On the screen, I could see the exact moment I'd made my decision, the way I'd leaned down and grabbed his collar. And then Raiden's shocked expression, his wide eyes as his brain seemed to stop working entirely.

"Ysolda—"

"Oh, this is my favorite part," she said, rewinding slightly. "Watch how your ears twitch right before you decide to go for it."

"I'm going to kill you," I said, but I couldn't look away from the screen.

Because she was right. There it was, that little twitch of my ears that always happened when I was about to do something impulsive. And then past-me was leaning down with this look of complete determination, like I'd finally decided to stop overthinking and just—

I launched myself off the bed.

"DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW!"

Ysolda squeaked and rolled away from my grabbing hands, clutching the phone to her chest. "It's not even my only copy!"

"WHAT?!"

"Lady Illya made backups!" she said, laughing despite my murderous expression. "She said something about 'insurance for future blackmail opportunities!'"

I chased her around the room, both of us dissolving into laughter despite my mortification. She dodged around my desk chair, used my bed as a barrier, and even tried to hide behind my wardrobe doors.

"You're supposed to be helping me!" I said, lunging for the phone again and missing spectacularly.

"I am helping!" she gasped between laughs. "You've been moping for three days! This is an intervention!"

"This is emotional terrorism!"

"This is you finally admitting you have feelings for him!"

I stopped chasing her abruptly, standing in the middle of my disheveled room with my hair a mess and my face still burning.

"I never said that," I said quietly.

Ysolda stopped too, lowering the phone and giving me a look that was equal parts fond and exasperated.

"Lady Ella," she said gently, "you kissed him. In the middle of a training hall. After pinning him to the ground. That's something you do when you have real feelings for someone."

I sat down heavily on the edge of my bed, suddenly feeling very small.

"I don't know what I was thinking," I admitted. "It just... happened. And now I can't stop thinking about it, and I don't know what that means when I know he doesn't feel the same way."

The guilt twisted in my stomach alongside the confusion. Because the truth was, I'd been using Raiden. At first, I hadn't meant to use him, but once I realized how effective it was, I'd leaned into it.

An unaffiliated individual showing interest in me? The Brightmoors couldn't touch that. The civil war twenty years ago had changed everything. Too many unaffiliated people had died in that conflict. Too many families were destroyed by politics they had nothing to do with. The Sentinels had been watching every sect and clan interaction with civilians ever since. Any harm to an unaffiliated person, any coercion or interference in their lives by sect politics brought severe consequences. Entire bloodlines had been dissolved for lesser transgressions.

So when Raiden started showing up to events with me, when people began talking about us sparring together, spending time together... it was perfect protection. The Brightmoors had to back off. They had to play the long game, wait for it to fizzle out naturally.

I'd flirted with him when we first met. Played up our connection, let people think there was more there than friendship. And he'd seen right through it. I still don't know why he continued to play along…

"It means you like him," Ysolda said simply, sitting down beside me. "It means you've finally found someone who sees you as an equal instead of a prize to be won."

"But I used him," I said quietly, the words tasting bitter. "I used him as a shield against the marriage, and he knew it. He called me out on my 'flirty advances' more than once, saw right through the facade."

Ysolda was quiet for a moment. "And then you kissed him anyway."

"And then I kissed him anyway," I confirmed, burying my face in my hands. "When it wasn't an act anymore. When I actually meant it. But by then..."

"By then he thought it was just more of the same," Ysolda finished gently.

I nodded miserably. "He told me he knew I didn't feel the same way, right there in the hall. He was protecting himself from what he thought was just another manipulation."

The worst part was, I couldn't even blame him for it. I'd spent months treating him like a convenient solution to my problems instead of a person with his own feelings. Why would he believe anything I did was real?

I looked at her, then at the phone screen where the video had paused on both of us smiling at each other after the kiss.

"But he told me he doesn't feel that way," I said quietly. "Right there in the hall, he said he knew I didn't feel the same, and I... I didn't correct him."

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

"Ella," Ysolda said gently. She still slipped into formal titles out of habit, but when she was being serious, she always used my name, regardless of who might be listening. "sometimes people say things because they're trying to protect themselves from getting hurt."

I bit my lip, confusion and hope warring in my chest.

"What if I ruined everything? What if he thinks I was just caught up in the moment?"

"Then you tell him the truth," she said, standing up and smoothing down her skirts. "Now, are you going to get dressed and figure this out, or are you going to spend another three days hiding in bed?"

I was about to answer when my bedroom door burst open with enough force to rattle the walls.

"ELLA!" Illya's voice rang out as she practically bounced into the room. "You will NOT believe what just—"

I launched myself off the bed, murder in my eyes. "ILLYA! Did you seriously make backup copies of that video?!"

"What video?" she asked innocently, then grinned. "Oh, you mean the one where you finally grew a spine and kissed the boy? Yeah, obviously I made backups. That's premium blackmail material right there."

I was halfway across the room, ready to strangle her with my bare hands, when she held up a cream-colored envelope with an official-looking seal.

"But first," she said, her grin faltering slightly, "you need to see this. It just arrived by courier."

Something in her tone made me stop mid-lunge. The envelope looked formal, expensive, the kind of correspondence that usually meant either very good news or very bad news.

I took it from her hands, noting the Brightmoor family crest pressed into the wax seal. My stomach dropped.

Please don't be wedding planning details. Please don't be wedding planning details.

I broke the seal and unfolded the letter, scanning the formal script quickly. The words seemed to blur together at first, too formal and flowery to process immediately. But then I reached the key paragraph, and my brain finally caught up.

"THE MARRIAGE IS OFF?!" I shouted, loud enough that I was pretty sure the entire estate heard me.

Ysolda and Illya both moved closer, reading over my shoulders.

"'Due to unforeseen circumstances and a reevaluation of our family's priorities,'" I read aloud, "'the Brightmoor family formally withdraws from the arranged union between our houses. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause and wish the Vel'areis family continued prosperity.'"

I stared at the letter, reading it again to make sure I hadn't hallucinated the words.

"That's... it?" I said. "No explanation? No details? Just 'unforeseen circumstances'?"

Illya frowned, taking the letter from my hands to examine it more closely. "This is weird. Really weird. The Brightmoors have been pushing for this marriage for months. Why would they suddenly—"

"I don't care why," I interrupted, a grin starting to spread across my face. "They called it off. I'm free."

The relief that washed over me made my knees weak. I gripped the doorframe to steady myself. No more Vaelik. No more forced smiles and polite conversations about a future I didn't want. No more pretending to be interested in someone who made my skin crawl.

"This is huge," Ysolda said, her own smile growing. "Ella, you're actually free to make your own choices now."

My thoughts immediately went to Raiden, to that moment three days ago, to the possibility that maybe I could actually do something about these feelings. The specter of an arranged marriage no longer hung over everything.

But there was still the small matter of him believing I didn't feel the same way about him.

One problem at a time, I supposed.

Raiden Alaric

The late afternoon sun felt good on my face as Sol and I walked down the steps of the Association building. The adrenaline from the tests was finally starting to fade, replaced by a comfortable tiredness and the satisfaction of a day well spent.

"So," I said, glancing over at him as we reached the sidewalk, "Sol Apollo, huh?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"It's a little on the nose, don't you think?" I grinned. "Sol means sun, Apollo is the Roman god of the sun. Did your parents have a theme going or something?"

Sol was quiet for a moment, then let out a short laugh. "Apollo's actually a fake name."

I blinked. "What?"

"Apollo," he repeated, pulling his wallet from his pocket. "It's fake. Something I use when I need to submit paperwork that requires a last name."

He handed me his official A.A. identification card. I looked down at it, expecting to see "Sol Apollo" printed in neat letters. Instead, there was just one word in the name field:

Sol

Nothing else. No family name, no middle initial, just Sol.

"I don't understand," I said, handing the ID back to him. "How do you not have a last name?"

Sol shrugged, sliding the card back into his wallet with practiced ease. "Hard to have a family name when you don't know who your family is."

The casual way he said it hit me harder than I expected. There was no self-pity in his voice, no bitterness. He stated it like a simple fact, like he was telling me what he'd had for breakfast.

"You don't know your family?" I asked.

"Nope." He started walking again, hands in his pockets. "No parents, no siblings, no relatives that I'm aware of. Been on my own since I was old enough to remember."

I fell into step beside him, processing this information. It explained a lot, actually. The way he carried himself with that quiet independence, the careful way he'd given a fake name earlier, the fact that he seemed so comfortable being alone.

"So when forms ask for a last name...?"

"I make something up," he said with a slight smile. "Apollo seemed appropriate. Figured if I was going to lie, might as well make it thematic."

"And the A.A. just... accepts that?"

"They have procedures for people with incomplete documentation," he said. "Orphans, refugees, people who've lost records. It's fairly common. They just assign you a file number and move on."

We walked in comfortable silence for a moment, both of us watching the foot traffic around the Association plaza. It was busier now that the day's testing was winding down. Examinees and their families streamed out of the building.

"Does it bother you?" I asked eventually. "Having no family history?"

Sol considered the question seriously. "Sometimes," he admitted. "When I was younger, I used to wonder about it more. What they were like, why I ended up alone, that kind of thing. But after a while..." He shrugged. "You realize it doesn't really matter. You are who you choose to be, not who your ancestors were."

There was something almost philosophical about the way he said it, like he'd thought about this question many times before and come to peace with his answer.

"Besides," he added with that familiar grin, "family's sometimes about the people who choose to stick around, right?"

I thought about Chronos, about the way he'd taken me under his wing without any obligation to do so. I thought about Illya and Ella, who'd become friends despite having no reason to care about some random guy from their school.

"Yeah," I said. "I guess you're right about that."

We reached the edge of the plaza where I'd parked earlier. I was silently thanking myself for driving here instead of relying on Chronos for transportation. The man had a habit of disappearing without warning. Being stranded at the A.A. building wasn't exactly my idea of a good time.

Sol followed me toward the parking area, still talking casually about the day's tests. Then he stopped mid-sentence.

"That's yours?" he asked, staring at the Aston Martin Valhalla gleaming under the afternoon sun.

I gave him a wry smile. "I know what it looks like, but I can explain."

Sol stood there, taking in the car that was probably worth more than most people's houses.

"This was a gift," I said quickly. "From my mentor, who's probably Red Rank or something insane like that. This is literally the only valuable thing I own. I'm nowhere near rich—I mean, I was wearing the same pair of shoes for two years until recently."

Sol shook his head slowly, a mixture of amusement and disbelief on his face. "Your mentor gives you hypercars as casual gifts?"

"He's... eccentric," I said, pulling out the key fob. "And apparently has connections with Aston Martin that let him get cars before they're even released to the public."

"Right," Sol said, sighing. "Well, this has been educational." He stepped back with a grin. "I'll catch you later, Raiden. I've got your number, we should definitely train together soon."

"Definitely," I agreed, genuinely looking forward to it.

Sol was about to turn and walk away when my phone started ringing. I glanced at the caller ID and saw Ella's name.

Before I could even answer, her voice came through loud enough that Sol paused and looked back.

"RAIDEN!" she practically screamed into the phone. "THE MARRIAGE IS OFF!"

I held the phone slightly away from my ear, wincing. "Ella, what are you—"

"THE BRIGHTMOORS CALLED IT OFF! IT'S OVER! I'M FREE!"

"What did you do?!" she demanded, her voice still at maximum volume. "Raiden, what did you DO? There's no explanation, they just sent a letter saying 'unforeseen circumstances' and called everything off!"

"I didn't do anything," I said, genuinely confused. "Ella, I have no idea what you're talking about. I mean, I don't recall doing anything except maybe spooking Vaelik a bit. Why would you think I—"

Sol caught my attention and mouthed silently, "Crazy ex?"

I nodded, which was apparently the wrong response because Ella's voice came through the phone even louder.

"Are you NODDING at someone? Raiden Alaric, are you making fun of me right now?!"

I froze. How did she—

"I can HEAR it in your voice! You're smirking, aren't you? This is serious!"

Sol covered his mouth, clearly trying to contain his laughter at my predicament. I shot him a withering look while trying to placate the fury on the other end of the line.

"Look, Ella, I really don't know anything about what happened," I said, forcing my voice to sound more serious. "But I'm happy for you. Now you can make your own decisions about your future."

She seems to have forgotten that I still owe her dinner from our last spar, I thought to myself with a slight smile. Probably for the best given everything that's happening.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, like she was thinking it over.

"Thank you," she said finally, her voice calmer now. "But I still think this has something to do with you somehow. I'll let you know what I find out when I figure it out."

The line went dead.

I looked at my phone, then at Sol, who was now doubled over trying to keep from bursting into laughter.

I just stood there with a defeated expression.

—

The drive to Chronos's estate gave me time to think. By the time I pulled through the gates, the sun was starting to set, casting long shadows across the training grounds.

I made my way to the main training hall without stopping by the house first. I needed to center myself after the chaos of the day, and I knew exactly where to do it.

The hall was empty and quiet, just the way I liked it. I walked to the center of the polished floor and sat cross-legged, closing my eyes and letting my breathing settle into a steady rhythm.

My aura responded immediately, flowing through my body in the patterns Chronos had drilled into me. I focused on the suppression technique, folding the energy inward, creating that delicate balance between presence and concealment.

It was getting easier. The flow felt more natural now, less forced. I could feel the difference between this morning and now, the hours of practice were paying off. But I was nowhere near Chronos's level. His complete absence of detectable aura was still beyond me.

I lost myself in the meditation, refining the technique, pushing for that perfect balance. Time seemed to slow as I worked through each adjustment, each tiny improvement.

"Getting better," came Chronos's voice from somewhere behind me. "You're close to a breakthrough."

I didn't open my eyes or break the flow. "How long have you been watching?"

"Long enough to see you've been practicing." His footsteps approached, stopping a few feet away. "The suppression is much cleaner than this morning."

I finally opened my eyes and looked up at him. "Chronos, I know what technique I want you to teach me."

His eyebrow raised slightly. "Oh? You've been thinking about this since your birthday, and now you've decided?"

I nodded, standing up and facing him directly. "I want to learn Aura Release. The same technique Ella used during our spar."

Chronos's eyes lit up with something that looked almost like anticipation. "I was wondering when you'd ask for that one."

"You were waiting for me to ask?"

"Of course," he said with a slight smile. "Aura Release is one of the most fundamental advanced techniques an Ascendant can learn. But it's also one of the most dangerous if improperly controlled. I wanted you to choose it yourself, when you understood what it meant."

He gestured for me to step back and give him some space.

"Show me your current aura control first. Full output, but suppressed. Let me see how stable you can keep it."

I nodded and moved to the center of the hall, taking a deep breath as I settled into my stance. My aura flowed outward, but I kept it tightly controlled, suppressed just enough to avoid overwhelming the space while still maintaining full power.

Then I began moving.

I started with Marcus's grappling techniques, flowing my aura through my arms and core as I moved through the motions of redirections and throws. The energy followed my movements perfectly, reinforcing without overpowering.

I transitioned into Sylvan's speed work, letting my aura pool in my legs before bursting forward in short, controlled dashes. The flow was smooth, no waste, no spikes that would break my suppression.

Next came Thora's power applications. I shifted my aura to my striking limbs, concentrating it for maximum impact while keeping the rest of my body's flow steady. A series of punches and elbow strikes, each one reinforced but controlled.

Vera's unpredictable movement patterns followed. My aura danced with me as I flowed through her acrobatic sequences, adapting to each shift in direction and momentum. The energy moved like liquid, following my intent without conscious direction.

Finally, I incorporated elements of Sol's sword work, even without a blade. The precise footwork, the way he'd channeled aura through his entire body for perfect balance and timing. My hands moved through the motions of blade techniques, my aura flowing along imaginary steel.

But the most important part was the thread of Fenris's predatory style running through it all. The way my aura pulsed with my heartbeat, the instinctive flow that responded to intention before conscious thought. It all came together in a combination that was uniquely mine.

I finished the sequence and let my aura settle back to its suppressed state, breathing steady despite the complex flow patterns I'd just executed.

Chronos was quiet for a long moment, studying me with those unreadable crimson eyes.

"Interesting," he said finally. "You've integrated more than I expected from today's tests."

I wiped a bit of sweat from my forehead, still amazed at what I'd just done. "It's incredible how I can pick up aura techniques now. Before I awakened, I could only copy physical movements. But now..." I gestured at the space around me where my aura had been flowing. "It's like I can see the energy patterns and just... understand them."

Chronos nodded slowly. "Your Origin has evolved, Rai. When you awakened, it didn't just gain the ability to interact with aura, it fundamentally changed how it processes and stores information."

He walked closer, his expression thoughtful. "The more you advance as an Ascendant, the stronger your Origin will become as well. What you're doing now is just the beginning."

"What do you mean?"

A slight smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "Well, at this rate, you'll probably be stealing aura signatures next. Imagine walking around mimicking someone else's energy pattern so perfectly that people mistake you for them."

I blinked. "Is that... actually possible?"

"For most people? No. For someone with your particular gift?" He shrugged. "We'll see. Your Origin seems to have no respect for the usual limitations."

The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. If my ability kept evolving like this, where would it end?

Before I could ask more about it, the training hall doors opened and a man in an impeccable black suit walked in. He moved with the kind of silent efficiency that spoke of years of practice, approaching Chronos with measured steps.

I'd never seen him before in my life.

The man handed Chronos a cream-colored envelope, gave a small bow, and walked back out without saying a single word. The entire exchange took maybe ten seconds.

I stared after him, completely confused. In all my years of training here, visiting this estate, I'd never encountered anyone except Chronos and the occasional Ascendant he'd invite for specialized training sessions.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"That's Stanley, my butler," Chronos replied casually, already opening the envelope.

I blinked. "You don't have a butler."

"Yes I do. Stanley." He looked at me like I was being obtuse. "You think I can maintain this entire estate by myself?"

"How have I never seen him before?"

Chronos glanced up from the letter with that familiar smirk. "He's a really good butler."

I waited for more explanation. None came.

"That's it? That's your answer?"

"What more do you want me to say, Rai? Good butlers are invisible until you need them. Stanley's the best."

I stared at him, waiting for some kind of elaboration that clearly wasn't coming.

Chronos glanced at the letter in his hands, then casually held the envelope out to me. "Here you go. This is for you."

I took it, still staring at him for his complete lack of explanation about the mysterious butler situation. But my attention shifted to the envelope as I broke the seal and unfolded the letter inside.

The letterhead was official, bearing the Brightmoor family crest. I started reading the formal script, expecting maybe some kind of legal document or complaint.

Instead, my brain seemed to stop processing the words halfway through the first paragraph.

I shook my head and rubbed my eyes, then read it again.

Then again.

And again.

My hands started trembling slightly as the meaning finally began to sink in.

"Chronos," I said, my voice coming out weaker than I intended. "What is this?"

"It's an apology from the Brightmoors," he said casually, like he was commenting on the weather. "What else could it be?"

But this wasn't just an apology. The letter, signed by Elias Brightmoor himself, was a formal written apology for his family's "regrettable actions and interference." But more than that, it contained an explanation of the complete transfer of all Brightmoor assets on Earth to my name, along with a note that further details and documentation would be provided upon my arrival at what was now apparently my "primary residence."

The numbers at the bottom of the page made my vision blur.

Total asset value: $3.4 billion.

"Congratulations," Chronos said with that familiar smirk. "You're a billionaire."

"A– a— a bah— a bi—" I kept blinking rapidly, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words.

"W–wa—wait… I'm a what?" I finally managed to croak out.

Then my knees gave out completely.

I collapsed to the floor of the training hall, sitting there in stunned silence. My mouth hung open slightly and I could feel myself starting to drool, but I couldn't seem to make my brain send the signal to close it. No words would come. No thoughts would form properly.

The letter fluttered to the ground beside me.

Chronos looked down at me with mild concern, then picked up the fallen letter and scanned it himself.

"3.4 billion?" he muttered, his brow furrowing slightly. "I thought it was supposed to be 1.2 billion."

He flipped to the back page and continued reading the breakdown of assets. I didn't catch it because I just saw the total.

"Oh," he said, his voice taking on a tone of mild surprise. "They added their stocks and gold bonds, too. How generous of them. I told them just the real estate."

He looked down at me, still sitting on the floor in a catatonic state.

"Rai? You still with me there?"

I just stared at him, a small trail of drool escaping the corner of my mouth.

—

I'm not sure how much time passed, but the next thing I was aware of was being dragged along a perfectly manicured stone pathway. My legs weren't working properly, so Chronos had one of my arms slung over his shoulder while he practically carried me forward.

"Come on, Rai," he was saying in that annoyingly casual tone. "You need to see this place eventually. Might as well be now while you're too shocked to have a proper panic attack."

I tried to focus on where we were, but my brain was still struggling to process basic information. We were walking up to what could only be described as an architectural masterpiece. The "residence"—and I use that term very loosely—was more like a palatial estate that belonged in a fantasy movie about gods living among mortals.

The mansion rose before us in terraced levels, each floor flowing seamlessly into the next with graceful arched windows that glowed with warm golden light against the evening sky. Multiple pools cascaded down the property in impossible shades of turquoise and blue, creating a waterfall paradise that seemed to defy both physics and budget constraints.

Curved staircases spiraled around the building's exterior like something from a dream, connecting balconies and terraces that each looked large enough to host their own events. Palm trees and exotic landscaping created private alcoves and romantic overlooks throughout the sprawling property.

The entire structure seemed to glow from within, thousands of lights creating an ethereal ambiance that made the place look less like a home and more like a resort designed for royalty. The pools alone probably cost more than most people's houses, with infinity edges that seemed to pour directly into the night sky.

"This," Chronos said as we approached the front entrance, "is your new primary residence. According to the paperwork, anyway."

I managed to make a sound that might have been a whimper.

"The good news," he continued, still dragging me along, "is that all the staff and maids come with the properties to maintain them. So you won't have to figure out how to manage all this yourself."

Chronos finally let me stand on my own as we reached the entrance pathway. "Go ahead and take a look around," he said casually. "I need to prepare some things for your training anyway."

I stood there for a moment, swaying slightly on unsteady legs, staring up at the impossible mansion before me. Each step I took toward the front door felt like I was acquiring more debt, like the universe was keeping track of how much luxury I was about to experience and would demand payment later.

The curved pathway seemed to stretch forever, even though it was probably only fifty feet. Every footfall on the pristine stonework made me feel like an imposter wearing borrowed clothes to a party I had no business attending.

As I reached the massive front doors, they swung open smoothly. An elegant elf maid appeared in the doorway, her hair perfectly arranged and her uniform immaculate. She gave me a deep, practiced bow with perfect form.

"Welcome, Master Alaric," she said in a voice that carried both respect and warmth.

I froze completely.

Master Alaric.

Never in my life had I ever thought someone would call me that. Never had I imagined owning anything that would require staff, let alone staff who would address me with such formal respect.

I stood there, staring at her, unable to form words or move or do anything except process the fact that this was apparently my life now.

The elf maid straightened from her bow, and I got a better look at her. She was strikingly beautiful, with delicate features and those distinctive pointed ears that caught the golden light from inside the mansion. Her auburn hair fell in gentle waves to her shoulders, catching the warm light with rich copper highlights, and her crimson eyes held a gentle patience.

"Master Alaric?" she said softly, stepping forward slightly. "Please, allow me to escort you inside."

I still couldn't move. My feet felt rooted to the stonework.

She tilted her head in confusion, her expression shifting to one of concern. "Are you alright, Master?"

The genuine worry in her voice finally broke through my paralysis. I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of shock that had settled over my brain.

"I'm... yeah. Sorry. This is just..." I gestured vaguely at the mansion, at her, at everything. "A lot."

She smiled then, a warm expression that made her even more beautiful. "Of course, Master. Please, take your time. When you're ready, I'll show you around your home."

My home.

The words still felt surreal.

I took a shaky breath and nodded, finally managing to get my feet to move. "Okay. Lead the way."

She turned gracefully and began walking into the mansion, her movements elegant and practiced. I followed behind her, still feeling like I was walking through someone else's dream.

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