A few quiet days passed.
No alarms. No urgent knocks. No holograms lighting up with blinking red text.
Just ti.
The kind of ti that didn’t feel borrowed. The kind that settled in your bones, slow and steady, like warm sunlight after a long storm.
The Nocturne estate stayed calm. Morning als rolled out without announcent—fresh, hot, and served with silent precision by staff who’d been trained in elite military kitchens but now only worked for family.
No one brought up the college again. Not directly. Not in passing. It was like an unspoken rule had taken hold: don’t ruin the stillness.
Ethan spent most of those days out in the garden paths, where the air shimred faintly from the environntal do’s filtration grid.
The outer flowers blood a little longer in this zone—extended growth fields, courtesy of a quiet deal Lilith had once made with a plant-specialist from Valre.
Even the birds here weren’t ordinary. Tiny sensor-feathered creatures from another region, programd to mimic native calls but tuned to detect psychic fields.
He would sit near the central fountain, a chilled glass of fruit water in his hand, the surface of the pool glowing faintly blue at the edges—subtle, enchanted.
Sotis he read from old books Seraphina had archived in hard format. Sotis he didn’t.
Sotis he just watched the light shift through the glass do overhead, turning gold, then soft gray, then deep violet by the ti evening ca.
The others kept their distance without ever being far.
Soone was always around.
Liliana and Isabella bickered constantly. About nonsense. About who had better instincts when blindfolded.
About whose combat boots were technically faster to equip in zero-gravity environnts. They never sounded angry. It was more like they just didn’t want the air to go quiet.
Seraphina was quieter. She took notes on her pad, half-focused on the real world, half-locked into whatever data models she was simulating.
When Ethan walked past her, she’d always glance up. Just for a second. Then back to her work. But it was enough.
Lilith didn’t need to say anything.
She passed through hallways like she belonged to the house itself—present in every reflection, every slow drift of perfu in the air.
Sotis, Ethan caught a glimpse of her silhouette up on the balcony, head tilted, eyes watching the sky like it might speak to her.
She never interrupted him. Never gave a speech. But he felt her watching, quietly anchoring the days.
Then ca the morning.
The one where he had to leave.
No one woke him. No one knocked.
He stirred naturally, blinking into soft light seeping through the edge of the heavy velvet curtains.
The air felt dense. Not in a heavy way. But full—like sothing had shifted during the night.
He sat up slowly and looked across the room. His outfit for the day had already been laid out on the dressing table.
Travel-ready, custom-fitted. Smooth black weave with silver piping at the cuffs. Clean. Sharp. Prepped for a world where people would be watching.
Downstairs, the house remained steady.
Seraphina was already at the breakfast nook, sipping pale tea with one leg tucked under the other, scrolling through early system reports.
Liliana leaned into the chair beside her, absently peeling a mandarin. No urgency. No mission brief. Just her, calm as ever, catching fruit oil between her fingers.
Isabella had one boot propped up on the table edge, flipping through a pocket-sized tactics guide that had definitely been altered to include sarcastic notes in the margins.
Every now and then, she muttered sothing rude at it.
They all looked up when Ethan walked in.
But no one said "Are you ready?" or "Is it ti?"
They didn’t need to.
Lilith stood by the far window, sunlight streaking across her silver-white hair like she’d stepped out of a painting. She turned, nodded once, and motioned to the tray on the table.
"You should eat," she said. "The food out there won’t be as good."
Ethan smiled faintly and took a seat. The tray lid lifted with a soft hiss. Underneath were freshly grilled egg rolls, toasted bread, and slices of chilled lon arranged with delicate precision. Not flashy. Not overdone. But perfect.
He ate quietly.
The twins weren’t there.
But he didn’t ask.
He already knew where they were.
The drive to the spaceport felt like a bubble. The world moved outside, but nothing touched them.
The convoy was silent and dark, a low-profile military model with spectral dampeners. Not the kind built for flash.
The kind built for protection without needing to show it. Lilith sat across from Ethan, legs crossed, hands in her lap.
The others followed in the second vehicle behind. A few staff drones flanked the convoy, their cloaked shells visible only through the soft blue shimr of active shields.
They didn’t speak.
There wasn’t anything left to say.
The city outside blurred past. Floating signs, augnted transit lanes, minor comrcial hubs—all flickering like set pieces behind tinted glass.
Sowhere far off, a cruiser moved above the skyline. Two enforcent drones zipped past, blinking amber, but didn’t stop.
By the ti they reached the spaceport, the air had changed.
The quiet was gone.
Families clustered near the gates. Shipping drones buzzed across rails overhead. Students checked their panels.
Banners flapped gently in the internal wind tunnel—each one representing a different university.
The Astralis crest glead in subtle gold by a private boarding ship.
And standing just beside it, frad by clean lines and shifting light, were Evelyn and Everly.
Their uniforms weren’t standard issue. Custom-tailored, sleek, elegant. Platinum thread outlined the Moonshade emblem on each shoulder—visible only when the light caught it from the right angle.
Ethan stepped out.
He didn’t say a word.
He didn’t need to.
Everly reached him first, linking his left arm with a bright, open smile. Evelyn took the other, calr but just as clear.
The aning was simple.
We’re here with you.
The gate security noticed them imdiately. One officer froze. Another one whispered sothing into a communicator but didn’t raise an alert.
The biotric scanners adjusted themselves without prompt. No ID needed. No scans.
Lilith stopped just behind the trio, arms folded. Her gaze stayed steady.
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