Chapter 85: The dead Summoner

Chapter 85: The dead Summoner All of a sudden, Carlos leapt off his bed in one swift movement, his body propelled as though a hidden urgency had taken over him. The sudden motion startled Kairos, who instinctively mirrored the action—springing to his feet, his senses sharpening. "Why are you so startled?" Carlos asked, narrowing his eyes at Kairos. "Do you think I’m actually going to attack you? If I wanted to do that, I’d tell you straight to your face. I’m no coward." His words were edged with irritation but carried a strange sense of reassurance. With that said, Kairos felt a subtle weight lift from his chest. Still, his caution had not been misplaced. There was no harm in being prepared—especially when he still had no concrete idea of the power gap between himself and Carlos. "I actually received a message from my Faction," Carlos added, stepping toward the side of the room where he had placed his sneakers. "I have to act on it immediately. This discussion can wait." ’A message from his faction. Now I see,’ Kairos thought as his mind began to piece things together. Carlos’s earlier urgency made more sense now—his sudden reaction, the tension, the abrupt decision to leave. Initially, Kairos hadn’t understood why he had gotten so worked up. If he was going to attack, I am sure I would have sensed it, Master, the voice of the shadow wolf growled within him. That comment made Kairos feel a bit foolish. In hindsight, his overreaction did seem unnecessary. But he quickly buried that shame beneath a composed, calculating expression. He wouldn’t let anyone—especially Carlos—see that moment of doubt. "If you’re going out for your faction, then it must be something serious," Kairos said while stretching his arms lazily above his head. "I’ll also take a walk... clear my head." Carlos heard him but didn’t bother responding. He exited the room swiftly, his demeanor sharp and focused. The speed of his departure unsettled Kairos more than he cared to admit. His sudden shift in attitude raised even more questions. What kind of message had he received? Was it an order to recruit someone? Eliminate someone? Investigate? There was no way to tell. ’What do factions even teach their children?’ Kairos pondered, his mind beginning to spiral into deeper thoughts. The more he thought about it, the more questions clawed at his mind. Carlos didn’t strike him as someone who needed the teachings of Titanfang Academy. None of the other faction descendants did either. So then... why were they even here? ’Could he have been sent to observe something? Investigate someone or something within the academy?’ The latter seemed more plausible. And if that were true, Kairos couldn’t shake the thought that he might be a subject of that observation. After all, Carlos was his roommate. Was that a coincidence? Kairos shook his head. That last thought... maybe it was reaching too far. He didn’t want to become consumed by paranoia. Still, he couldn’t ignore the memory of when Carlos had tried to speak with him in private—only to be interrupted by Lyza. That conversation could have been important. Now, it was just a missed opportunity buried beneath other unresolved mysteries. What exactly were Carlos and the other faction-borns really doing at the academy? --- Darnell stood on the rooftop of the First Year building—the tallest structure in all of Titanfang Academy. The view from up here was unparalleled. From this height, the entire landscape unfolded before him: futuristic buildings shaped like anomalies of time, ships that floated seamlessly through the sky, and the distant military headquarters—cold, restricted zones reserved only for the elite and authorized. A harmony of vibrant colors and eerie architecture painted a picture both wondrous and unsettling. It was the perfect place to clear one’s mind. But he wasn’t alone. Standing near the small metal fence bordering the rooftop was a girl, her back turned to him as she gazed out at the panorama. She seemed to blend into the view—like part of the world yet lost in it. This place had once been Darnell’s sanctuary. During the period when he was distanced from both Kairos and Carlos—when tensions with the second-years reached unbearable heights—he found solace here. The isolation had helped him think. Heal. Then one day, during one of his usual visits, he found her there—crying silently. At first, he had told himself it was none of his business. But he was Darnell. And curiosity was part of him. Compassion was the other. He had approached her, tried to console her, and failed. And yet, he ended up holding her in his arms as she cried. From that moment, this rooftop had become their place. A silent understanding tied them together, and they now met here often, watching the city from above until the sun dipped below the horizon. But today... something was different. She was quieter. Sadder. And Darnell had known why even before she spoke. That was why he had separated from the others—to find her here. He knew when the news reached her, this would be the first place she’d run to. He felt responsible now. He wanted to be the one to carry her through this pain. "I can’t believe—My brother is alive... and the military... they’re keeping him from me," she choked, her voice breaking before the tears came once more. Darnell reached out and placed a hand gently on her back, offering soft, reassuring pats. "Don’t cry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s good enough to know he’s alive. They’re probably just trying to evaluate him. I’m sure he’ll be released soon." Lyza—Mike’s sister—could barely bring herself to believe those words. To her, it felt like the world she trusted had betrayed her. Everything the military told her now felt like a lie. "Why can’t I do anything?!" she cried out, slamming her fist against the cold brick. "Again and again, the weak suffer. We can’t lift a finger against those above us. I can’t even speak to my own brother...!" Her voice cracked. Her knees buckled slightly, and her throat trembled as a dark realization formed on her tongue. "What if they are experimenting with—" Before the words could escape, Darnell pulled her into a firm embrace, silencing her fears with warmth. "Don’t think that way," he whispered against her hair. "This isn’t what Mike would want. If he revealed himself, then he’s okay... or at least well enough to make that choice. He’s not gone, and that means he’ll return soon. You just have to think positively, alright?" She didn’t respond. Her tears continued to flow, soaking into his shirt. But she didn’t push him away either. And in that moment, Darnell made a silent vow. He would protect her hope—even if it meant lying to her. Because deep down, he feared the worst. When he had seen Mike earlier, the boy looked like a shadow of his former self—starved, pale, traumatized. Like someone who had barely escaped a living nightmare. That was probably why Henry had whisked him away so quickly. The truth was too heavy to share. ’If the worst comes... I’ll break him out myself. For her. Just for Lyza’s sake.’ He didn’t think about the risks. He didn’t think about the logistics. He just knew—if it came to that, he’d do it. The rooftop door suddenly swung open, a burst of wind rushing through as a figure emerged. A girl stepped out with urgency in her stride. "Oh, I’ve been searching for you everywhere!" the girl exclaimed, waving toward them. Her voice was directed at Lyza. Lyza jolted and immediately pulled away from Darnell’s arms, her gaze falling to the ground. Her face turned a deep shade of red as she quickly wiped away the tears. "Stop playing lovebird and get back to the dorms—your food’s getting cold," the girl continued, her tone teasing, but her presence grounding. "Let’s go, Sarah," Lyza mumbled, hurrying over and grabbing her friend’s wrist as if to escape further embarrassment. As they turned to leave, Sarah paused, glancing back at Darnell. Her gaze lingered—just for a second. But in that second, something cold flickered behind her eyes. A warning, perhaps. A threat. Darnell’s heart froze from the stare she gave him, however... That girl... Sarah Bentley... She had been killed. Yet here she was, walking and talking like nothing had ever happened. As if the events of the other night—never occurred at all.