Riven trained alone that morning.
Before the sun broke over Aether's eastern towers.
Before the VR halls opened.
Before any instructor logged into their terminal.
He stood in the simulation chamber — a circular vault lined with reactive panels — and stared at the black void beyond the loading field.
"Tempest Room. Set difficulty: Blind Cascade."
The system beeped in response.
[Simulation initializing…]
Lightning fractured the dark.
And then the sky fell.
Dozens of projected enemies surged forward — beasts formed from smoke and speed, illusions moving at real velocity.
Riven moved through them like a shadow.
Not because he was stronger.
But because he wasn't there.
Every strike missed him by inches.
Every blade he used vanished the moment it touched.
He was learning.
And something was learning from him.
---
Outside the chamber, Instructor Vex monitored the feed. She frowned.
"His data's off again."
Beside her, Kael Dross leaned forward.
"No. It's syncing."
"Syncing with what?"
Kael didn't answer.
Because deep in the code, something flickered.
Not red.
Not error.
Gold.
---
After training, Riven didn't go to breakfast.
He walked to the outer decks of the campus and stood at the glass wall overlooking the city.
He watched the storm clouds drift.
Watched the simulated birds pass through weather generators.
Watched the moment repeat.
Because lately, everything felt... programmed.
Except him.
He glanced at the back of his hand.
The veins shimmered faintly for a moment — not red, not blue.
Flame.
Then it faded.
---
Later that day, during evaluation, his opponent was chosen randomly.
A scout-class trainee named Veya.
Fast. Tactical. Clearly frightened of him.
He didn't want to fight.
But the simulation started anyway.
Veya rushed him.
Daggers spun in her hands — light-glitched and venom-coded.
She aimed for his shoulder. Nonlethal. A test.
She missed.
Not because he dodged.
Because she never reached him.
She fell to the floor mid-step.
Clutching her chest.
Gasping like she'd drowned in memory.
The instructors paused the session.
No strikes landed.
No injuries recorded.
But Veya wouldn't stop whispering one word:
"Elyon…"