Where the Past Bleeds

Emric sat near the rear corner of the transport cabin, hood drawn, elbow propped against the window. The hum of the lev-rails beneath them pulsed with rhythm, lulling most of the passengers into silence. Karya's absence weighed more than he expected.

The seats around him were filling up now. Most were like him: unawakened, but flagged by the SyncNet database for unique neural or physical markers that matched high-tier awakenings from past centuries. The world had begun to notice patterns that governed awakenings over generations, even rare psychological constructs that reoccurred just before a powerful awakening. Emric knew his invitation was less about certainty and more about probability.

A sharp voice broke the monotony. "Mind if I sit here? Or do you intend to radiate mysterious loner energy the whole way?"

He looked up. A girl, tall and wiry, stood with one brow cocked and a sardonic twist to her lips. Her Sync Band glinted slightly, darkened—still unawakened.

"Suit yourself," Emric muttered, gesturing to the seat beside him.

"I'm Renna. Used to be top of my sector until a Vanguard candidate kicked a wall so hard it collapsed half our combat sim room. Hard to compete with walking siege engines."

"Emric."

"Ah. The one who scored perfect logic compression on the national metrics?" she asked, settling in with a sideways glance.

Emric blinked. "How?" Clearly surprised she knew that. 

"You'd be amazed how fast gossip travels when half the transport is full of people who feel average for the first time in their lives."

Another voice, softer but clear: "I think it's amazing. We're surrounded by future class holders and elites-in-waiting. There's beauty in that tension."

The new speaker sat two rows ahead, turned partially in his seat. He wore circular lenses, the kind that filtered high-density Néthra exposure. His band was active—Arcanist class. Low resonance, but awake.

"Name's Calen," he added, noticing their attention. "First-generation awakened. Minor plasma transmutation. Probably bottom-rank until I cook myself alive."

"Optimistic," Renna replied dryly.

Calen grinned. "Well, someone has to provide commentary."

By the time the transport hissed into ascent mode, five more cadets had joined the surrounding rows. Emric noted how carefully everyone watched each other's wrists. A girl with titanium implants along her arms—Aug-Class, clearly. A boy who hadn't stopped sketching since he boarded, muttering to himself about kinetic equations and frictionless field constructs. Another with visibly trembling fingers but a calm, mathematical gaze. All unawakened. All candidates.

Renna leaned closer. "You notice how they seated us together? This whole section is for wildcards. They're either prepping us for a lab... or a graveyard."

"Or something more useful," Emric said.

As they rose into upper-atmosphere rail space, the screen above them flickered. A calm voice spoke over visuals of a sprawling complex built into a crater-ringed plateau, with floating towers tethered to the land by thick, metallic arteries.

"Welcome to the Vanta Core Academy for Advanced Integration."

A murmur went through the cabin.

"Founded in 1099 AD, this Academy is the world's largest training zone for awakened and pre-awakened entities."

"Entities?" Renna muttered. "We're people. Right?"

"That depends who graduates," Calen replied.

The screen continued.

"The Academy follows a seven-tier sync progression system, derived from over a thousand years of awakening records:

Latent (Tier 1)

Novice (Tier 2)

Intermediate (Tier 3)

Advanced (Tier 4)

Elite (Tier 5)

Apex (Tier 6)

Mythic (Tier 7, unconfirmed)

Progression is tracked by Sync Resonance Percentage, with minimum tier advancement requiring 60%. Genius-level resonance exceeds 80%, with historic cases rarely surpassing 94%."

The boy sketching muttered, "Theoretically, Tier 5 should let you rewrite natural laws locally if you're Arcanist or Kinetor."

"Tier 5 can still get knifed if they're distracted," Renna quipped.

Calen nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Last year's duel between an Apex-class Vanguard and a human with a photon rifle ended with both dead."

Another student nearby winced. "Why are we doing this again?"

Renna gestured around. "Because knowing you might matter is addictive."

The transport descended into a deep cloud ring. The academy came into view. Its outer walls shimmered with stabilization fields, and the central Spire pulsed like a heartbeat, channeling ambient Néthra through its veins. In the distance, long white banners fluttered from air-bound platforms. Symbols marked classes: Cognivore, Vanguard, Arcanist, Kinetor, and the rare Obscurant.

A final note on the screen showed portraits:

Head Chancellor Maric Denhal, once a Kinetor Apex.

Master Instructor Raveen Sohl, an Elite Arcanist, rumored to have survived a world fracture.

Initiate Overseer Talun Ves, unknown class, often whispered about due to his unchanged Sync Band despite his rank.

Calen stared. "Talun Ves doesn't show resonance at all. No readings, ever. But he runs the Induction Gauntlet."

"Gauntlet?" Emric asked.

"Welcome test," Renna said. "You'll see."

As the transport settled on one of the Academy's floating arrival decks, the atmosphere inside shifted. Emric caught sight of cadets in sleek uniforms directing new arrivals. Their Sync Bands were active, glowing with various class sigils. No smiles on their faces like the academy has sucked out all their ability to take a joke.

Renna elbowed Emric lightly as the doors opened.

"Ready for the deep end?"

He stood, gaze fixed on the Academy beyond the platform.

"I think we're already in it."