Akio walked the campus walkways in the late morning sun, the pale gold light casting long shadows across the stone path. Students drifted past in lazy, unhurried lines—laughing, chatting, comparing notes—completely unaware of how violently the day had begun.

  He moved among them quietly, steps unhurried, posture relaxed, but his mind was nowhere near campus.

  The presentation had ended not long ago, but his thoughts still clung to the battlefield from that morning. The collapsing concrete. Echo’s spiraling orange geometry. The way the air had warped under the pressure of the fold. But none of that was what gnawed at him.

  It was the Anomaly.

  Its sudden emergence alone was enough to make his pulse tighten—but the frequency… that was what pressed dread into his chest like a cold hand. First the train station with Yoru. Then the small outbreak at the facility. And now this morning. Three occurrences in a month after three years of silence from the M.A.W.

  Patterns didn’t lie. This one felt like the start of something.

  He quietly exhaled, letting the breath fade into the wind as he drifted along the walkway.

  “Yo, Akio!”

  The call snapped him from his thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder.

  A tall, broad shouldered figure jogged toward him—navy blue hair shaved at the sides and tied in a short braid at the back, thick brows drawn together over a bandaid across his nose. Lev Ferros. Earnest, big hearted, and perpetually one accident away from disaster.

  Akio’s expression softened. “Oh, hi Lev.”

  Lev skidded to a stop, nearly tripping over his own shoes before clasping his hands together in an overly dramatic bow of apology.

  “I’m so sorry!!” he burst out. “I was the one who knocked over the projector! I didn’t mean to, especially while you were talking! I swear it was an accident—”

  Akio let out a quiet laugh. Of course. Lev had the uncanny talent of stumbling directly into chaos, but his sincerity was impossible to fault.

  “It’s all right,” Akio said casually. “Really. It wasn’t a big deal.”

  Lev rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks tinting red. “Yeah, but… I still feel like I ruined it. You guys worked so hard on that presentation.”

  Not exactly, Akio thought with faint amusement. He’d done the study mostly for fun, and the trio had rehearsed for perhaps two hours total—most of which had been spent refereeing Gabriel and Damien’s debate about slide formatting.

  “You didn’t ruin anything,” Akio reassured him. “And I’m not mad at all.”

  He paused, then added with mild sympathy, “Can’t say the same for the other two, though.”

  Lev winced immediately. “Yeah… I can’t lie, both Gabriel and Damien are kind of scary.”

  Akio’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. “I don’t blame you.”

  Those two had presences that drew attention—whether people wanted it or not. Gabriel’s sharp, unreadable warmth paired with a smile that never fully reached his eyes. Damien’s immaculate poise and cold theatricality that made everyone instinctively move aside.

  “Yeah,” Lev said with conviction, “you’re definitely the least terrifying out of the three.”

  Akio blinked. “…Terrifying?”

  Lev gave him a flat, incredulous look. “Bro. C’mon. Yes. You’re also kind of scary. Just—not as scary.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  He waved his hands around, trying to capture the concept.

  “You’re super smart, and you always know, like… everything. And you hang out with the other two, which automatically bumps your danger rating. But you’re also approachable and willing to teach stuff. Which I’m really grateful for, by the way. I’ve asked you for help, like, a hundred times.”

  Akio considered this, mildly amused.

  Me? Scary?

  He never thought of himself that way. It was… oddly flattering.

  Lev brightened again. “Oh! And, dude, your presentation was so good. I didn’t understand all of it, but it was super cool.”

  Akio smiled. “I’m glad you liked it. How was your summer?”

  Lev’s entire face lit up. “Great! Amazing, actually. I’ve been keeping up with Aira’s news blog—she’s been covering all this vigilante stuff lately. Her article on the Dawn Hound? Me and Amari were losing our minds.”

  Akio let out an amused exhale. Right. Lev and his best friend Amari—the campus’s most passionate vigilante superfans. They owned merch, trading cards, limited edition masks, bootleg T-shirts… the whole catalog.

  “How’s Amari doing?” Akio asked.

  “Oh, she’s good! We’ve both been watching all the clips of the Dawn Hound fights. His combat is so badass.” Lev threw a quick jab into the air for emphasis. “Like—how does he move like that?”

  Akio kept his expression mild and politely attentive. It was always a unique experience hearing a play-by-play analysis of his own fighting style from someone who had no idea they were speaking to the Dawn Hound.

  Lev suddenly laughed, sheepish. “Ah—sorry. I know you’re not really into vigilantes or combat stuff.”

  Akio smiled faintly. “It’s just not really for me. Still an interesting topic, though. Makes sense you’re into it—you’re training for the Sentari, after all.”

  Lev puffed up, proud. “Yeah! I always wanted to be Sentari when I was younger. The training’s been grueling, but honestly? Super fun.”

  He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Speaking of which—they’re opening the Sentari program for everyone this year. You gonna join?”

  Akio almost laughed.

  Absolutely not.

  Joining any combat program was the fastest way for people to start noticing his movements, his tells, his patterns. And the background checks alone would make his vigilante life a nightmare.

  “No,” he said smoothly. “I think I’ll pass. Combat really isn’t my thing.”

  Lev grinned and held up a fist. “Fair enough. You’re probably busy doing a ton of genius stuff anyway. Thanks for always helping me out, by the way. And hey—if you ever wanna learn some combat basics, I can teach you! I promise it’s easy beginner stuff.”

  Akio returned the fistbump, an unreadable smile tugging at his lips. The irony was almost funny, but Lev’s enthusiasm was undeniably endearing.

  “Thanks, Lev,” he said. “I’ll consider it.”

  Lev stretched, lacing his hands behind his head before speaking again.

  “Man, I wish I knew who the Dawn Hound was,” he sighed, sounding equal parts wistful and energized. “He’s so cool. I’d ask him so many things—like how he learned to fight, or what his training’s like, or just… I dunno. Watch him in action up close. That’d be sick.”

  Akio’s lips curved faintly. “I’m sure a lot of people feel the same.”

  “Oh, definitely.” Lev nodded, already fired up again. “Amari said she’d kill to meet him. Or even just know who he is. Honestly, I think that’s why Aira’s blog is so popular. Her theories are super convincing, and she’s always the first one reporting when something happens.”

  Akio let out a quiet laugh—because unfortunately, it was true. Aira had a sharp eye and a relentless drive. The only reason she hadn’t unmasked him yet was because Akio had spent years gently misdirecting her, nudging her toward other trails, burying hints before she could spot them.

  “She definitely has some interesting theories,” he said mildly.

  “Speaking of theories,” Lev added, suddenly brightening as if remembering something vital. “Gavant told me his newest one this morning. He thinks we’re all part of a diverging timeline, and that the people we are now are actually alternate universe versions of ourselves. Crazy, right?”

  Akio tilted his head, considering it with genuine academic curiosity. “Well… it’s not entirely impossible. If you look at it through the lens of quantum identity variance—some models do argue for parallel state bleedthrough.”

  Lev blinked at him, then rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “I… don’t know what that means. But it sounds legit.”

  He didn’t linger long on it before shifting topics again. “Anyway, uh—are you going to the lunch meetup later? Pretty sure everyone’s gonna be there.”

  Akio blinked once, reminded. Yes, their friend group—mostly people from their grade, a mix of students, clubmates, and Aira’s closest circle. Akio liked them. They were kind, enthusiastic, supportive.

  But they also loved talking about vigilantes.

  Specifically him—without realizing it.

  And there was something deeply awkward about sitting among friends while they unknowingly praised his combat form or speculated dramatically (and incorrectly) about his identity.

  It wasn’t unpleasant. Just… strange. He preferred existing on the fringes of the group—close enough to care, distant enough to breathe. Time spent with Gabriel and Damien felt far easier; the three of them could debate one another without needing to pretend.

  Besides… there were other matters he needed to attend to.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” Akio said, polite and warm. “But I’m busy today. Maybe next time.”

  “Oh, totally! No worries.” Lev grinned and offered a quick wave as he stepped backward. “It was great catching up! See you around!”

  He pivoted to leave and promptly bumped into someone else. Lev yelped and launched into a flurry of apologies as the other student tried to reassure him. Akio couldn’t help the amused breath that escaped him.

  Then he turned, hands sliding into his pockets, expression settling into quiet thought.

  The conversation had been a pleasant break. But his mind was already shifting forward, calculating next steps, tracing possibilities.

  The Dawn Hound would have work to do soon.

  ─ ? NEXT CHAPTER POV ? ─

  Aira