Blue’s father stood behind the couch, arms folded, weight shifted into one leg like he’d been leaning there for hours. He said nothing.
Then the silence broke.
“The first golden gate in America appeared earlier this week behind a pizza shop in downtown Columbus,” the newscaster said. “The Buckeye Guild has cordoned off the area. So far, no hunters have shown compatibility. If you’re interested in testing your resonance, please contact the Buckeye Guild directly.”
Eve’s chest tightened. That pizza shop. Their favorite place. They went there every day after school—rain, sleet, or snow. She could almost taste the garlic knots. Hear his dumb jokes bouncing off brick walls. Could he have gone through? The timing was too perfect. Her heart pounded. No. I can’t say anything. Not yet. Not until I’m sure. She glanced at Blue’s mother.
“Um… can I use the basement? I want to get some training in. My parents said they’ll be here in about an hour with food.”
Mary blinked, forcing a brittle smile. “Sure, honey. Go ahead.”
Eve slipped away.
The basement light buzzed to life.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a smooth, faintly glowing stone—glasslike, cool, a thin swirl of light shifting beneath its surface.
The Veyl Stone. A gift from Faelorn, carved from the breath of Thalorin’s ancient spirits. It carried no sound. Only thought—clean and direct to the one holding it. Eve pressed her palm to the stone and pushed her spirit energy inward.
Once.
Twice.
A third pulse rippled across its surface. Silence stretched— Then a voice bloomed inside her mind.
Ahh… my sweet disciple. How goes Terra?
Relief nearly buckled her knees. He’s still with me.
“Master Faelorn… Blue… he’s gone.”
Gone?
“A golden gate appeared here. I think he went through it.”
A pause. The air itself seemed to shift.
Are you certain?
“No. But it appeared the same time he disappeared. And where it appeared… it’s not coincidence.”
Then it may have chosen him, Faelorn said quietly. Golden gates respond to resonance. If it opened before him, it recognized something… deep within.
“Is there a way for someone compatible to bring others through? Even if they don’t resonate?”
Not that we know of. The gates reject mismatched frequencies.
A pause. However…
Eve’s fingers tightened around the stone. “However?”
Two days after you left, a golden gate opened in the Spinning Hills. I sent a group through with a Veyl Stone. They’ve returned. Veltrax, Faelorn said. A world of sentient machines. Floating cities. Technology beyond even the old tales of Terra you once shared.
Eve’s mind raced.
“Could they study the gates? Learn how they function? Maybe find a way to bypass resonance?”
If anyone can unravel the gates’ structure, it would be them. I will reach out.
“Thank you, Master.”
If the gate chose him, this is not his end. Worry will cloud you. Let sorrow pass through you — do not let it anchor you. Train. Grow. Prepare.
Eve steadied her breathing.
“I have to go.”
The light in the stone dimmed.
As she climbed the stairs, her chest ached. Blue… I miss you. I still haven’t told you how I really feel. She pressed her fingers against her heart.
Please come back.
A dry wind swept across the training yard, sharp with the scent of pine and steel. Blue rubbed his ear. “Tch… my ear itches. Who’s talking about me now?”
From a nearby bench, a recruit snorted. He had a crooked smile and a scar too fresh to be old.
“Probably your ancestors,” he said lazily. “The way you flailed during orientation.”
A few recruits chuckled.
“For a second I thought you were talking to ghosts,” another added. “Almost bowed out of respect.”
Blue rolled his eyes. “Didn’t realize Silent Edge trained comedians.”
“They don’t,” the first recruit grinned. “I’m a tragedy. You’re the punchline.”
More laughter. Blue let himself smile. It’s not the Tang Clan… but it’s something.
High above the courtyard, beyond the northern watchtower, Wu Jin leaned against a beam, arms folded into his sleeves.
He had watched the recruits test each other. Establish dominance. Assert hierarchy. Blue never joined. He also never submitted. There was something beneath his restraint. A stillness that didn’t belong to the untrained. His father’s words echoed in his mind.
That boy… Blue is Tang Jiung. Yeol’s nephew who died in the invasion. He reincarnated. He’s setting aside his lineage. He needs strength. You’re the only one who can sharpen him — and keep his secret. Wu Jin hadn’t believed it. Would he really discard the Tang name? Now he watched Blue laugh quietly with the others. Not too loud. Not invisible either. He didn’t cling to status. Didn’t bristle at mockery. Didn’t carry himself like nobility reborn. He carries loss… not pride. Wu Jin exhaled slowly. Maybe he truly intends to bury it. Tomorrow, he will learn what Silent Edge means.
That night, moonlight spilled through frost-kissed windows. Blue opened his door and froze. A scroll rested neatly on his bedding, tied with black twine. The Silent Edge insignia sealed it. Beside it lay a single slip of parchment.
I told my father I’d train you. That doesn’t mean I’ll hold your hand. Master this. Do what you must.
— Wu Jin
Blue unrolled the scroll. No flashy diagrams. No divine revelations. Just breathing. Inhale through the abdomen. Expand the ribs. Release through the spine. Circulate to the base of the skull. Repeat.
Simple.
Precise.
Unforgiving.
Twilight Flow.
As he read, something inside him stirred — foreign and familiar at once. A flicker appeared at the edge of his vision.
[Technique Identified]
[Twilight Flow – Passive]
[Progress: 3%]
Internal Qi synchronization increased during solitary training.
Meditative focus enhanced.
“The blade may be loud, but the breath must be still.”
Blue stared upward. “…This system really says the most dramatic things.”
He exhaled slowly. Maybe I need it more than I thought. He sat cross-legged and followed the rhythm. For once, the pulse in his chest wasn’t fear.
It was anticipation.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
“Courtyard. Five minutes.” An assistant instructor yelled.
But it is midnight, what the hell? Blue tucked the scroll into his robes and stepped into the cold.
The courtyard was dark. No torches. Frost glittered faintly under starlight as recruits shuffled into formation. Wu Jin stood motionless. Arms behind his back. Eyes closed. One of the instructors counted.
“Twenty-four present.”
Wu Jin opened his eyes.
“One missing,” he said calmly. “He’s gone.”
No one spoke. Wu Jin stepped forward, wooden rod resting beneath his arm.
“You were accepted into Silent Edge,” he said quietly. “That was your first mistake. You believed it meant you belonged.”
His voice was soft — but it cut like steel.
“This is not a school. Not a temple.”
A pause.
“This is a crucible.”
He scanned the line. Blue met his gaze for half a breath and felt the weight behind it.
“On your beds, you found Twilight Flow.”
Silence.
“You have one month to master it.”
A longer silence.
“Or leave.”
The frost seemed to thicken.
“Training begins at sunrise.”
He turned away.
“Sleep if you dare.”
And disappeared into shadow.
Some recruits muttered. Others looked pale. Blue didn’t move. He touched the scroll hidden beneath his robes. And inhaled. Slow. Precise. Controlled.
[Twilight Flow – Progress: 4%]
"Even stillness must be earned."
The recruits dispersed in uneasy silence. Wu Jin did not watch them go. In one month, half would break. A few would endure. The rest would be forgotten. Silent Edge did not reward potential. It remembered only those who survived.