Chapter 10 :The Unspoken

"The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist."

— Charles Baudelaire, popularized in The Usual Suspects

The Golden Ace of Vatra

On Vatra, status wasn't just about bloodline—it was about power.

Power wasn't just about wealth—it was about ability.

And ability?

That was what set Alekzander "Zane" Vael apart from the rest.

At Prime Ascendancy Academy, Zane wasn't just a top-ranked student; he was a legend. The Academy was home to heirs of ancient bloodlines, the elite of empires, and the prodigies of warlords—but Zane?

Zane was something else entirely.

A hybrid anomaly—both an aristocrat and a warrior. He was the Captain of the Combat Division, an Ace-ranked duelist, and one of the youngest students to ever reach Vatra's Tier-3 Authority.

The Radiant Storm.

A name spoken with both admiration and wariness.

A Day Like Any Other—Until It Wasn't

Zane's morning started the same way it always did—by waking up on a levitating platform that hovered over the academy's Aether Circuits, absorbing the ambient energy of Vatra's atmospheric field.

He stretched, rolled his shoulders, and leaped off, landing smoothly on the academy's crystalline skywalks.

Breakfast was in the Celestial Commons, where the food was grown from bio-sustained nanofarms and infused with arcane synthesis.

Then came his morning sparring sessions in the Duelist's Arena.

His opponent?

Varya Lin, a fellow Tier-3 student and one of the strongest psychokinetics in the academy.

"You're slow today, Zane," she taunted, flicking her wrist as a psionic blade formed in her hand.

Zane grinned, dodging effortlessly, his body moving with the ease of Aether-Step combat. "Nah, you're just in a rush to lose."

They clashed, a blur of afterimages and shockwaves rippling through the arena.

By the time he finished his sparring sessions, he was victorious—again.

After lunch, he had to attend a tactical warfare seminar with Chancellor Ralvek, a former Void Admiral of the Dominion Fleet.

Zane wasn't particularly interested in the lecture—he already knew half the strategies—but he played along.

It was after that when his personal communicator chimed.

A message from Administrator Tobias Vael.

A single sentence.

"Report to my office. Immediately."

And just like that, his day was no longer routine.

A Meeting with Secrets

Zane leaned against the doorway, flashing a grin at the stern-looking man behind the desk.

"You called, Uncle?" he teased.

Administrator Tobias Vael—his uncle and the overseer of student conduct—sighed heavily, rubbing his temples.

"Sit down, Zane. This is serious."

Zane whistled, dropping into the chair. Serious? His uncle rarely used that word.

"You're being assigned to a new student," Tobias said, sliding a sealed datapad across the desk.

Zane raised a brow. "New student? But admissions closed weeks ago."

"I know."

"Then how—?"

Tobias leaned in, lowering his voice. "The Board accepted the application directly."

Zane tilted his head. That was odd.

"Why would they—"

His uncle glanced at the walls, as if checking for unseen ears. Then, in a conspiratorial tone, he murmured:

"Word is… this one was pushed in by the Higher-Ups."

Zane felt his casual mask slip for the first time in a long while.

His heart skipped a beat.

Not the Higher-Ups.

Tobias met his eyes meaningfully.

"Not the School Board?" Zane asked, voice quieter.

His uncle shook his head.

The realization hit like a silent explosion.

There were entities above the Academy, above the Board, above the political and corporate elite. Those who never interfered directly—unless something was beyond their control.

Zane's throat went dry.

"You mean—"

"Do not." Tobias cut him off swiftly, his voice carrying an undeniable warning.

Zane shut his mouth.

There was a weight to this conversation now.

He exhaled slowly. Fine. Message received.

Tobias seemed satisfied with his silence. He pushed the datapad toward him.

"You've been assigned as her overseer," he said.

Zane took the file, scanning it with sharp eyes. His usual smirk returned, though now it was measured, thoughtful.

"Lily?" he mused. A simple name. Oddly delicate.

No last name. No lineage. No background.

Just "Lily."

Zane leaned back, spinning the datapad in his hands. "Huh. Sounds mysterious."

Tobias gave him a stern look.

"Be careful, Zane."

Zane paused, then smirked again—this time, softer. More genuine.

He pushed himself up, stretching lazily. "I will,

Uncle."

And with that, he left.

But deep down, for the first time in years, Zane felt something he hadn't in a long time.

Anticipation.