The clip went viral before Rook even left the arena floor.
Thirty-six seconds. Four moves. One takedown.
The combat drone footage looped across every school feed — slow motion, multiple angles, close-ups of his footwork, commentary by instructors. His expression never changed. That's what had everyone talking.
He didn't smirk. Didn't celebrate.Just turned and walked off like he'd gotten bored.
The rest of the campus saw a calm prodigy.
Tessa saw something else.
She found him in the quad, standing under one of the old iron sculptures — a twisting tangle of former hero insignias melted together after the Skyfire Event.
He was eating a protein bar slowly, reading something on his wristband.
She stepped up beside him.
"You know what people are calling you?"
He didn't look up. "Tell me."
"Ghostblade. Stoic. Captain Quiet. One kid in my class said you're the reincarnation of Solaris."
That got his attention.
He blinked once. No twitch. No flinch.But she felt it — the stillness, the air tightening around him.
"I'm not," he said.
"Obviously," she replied, too quickly. "Just... people like patterns. Old name, new face."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Do you believe in that kind of thing?"
Tessa hesitated. "I believe in karma."
"I don't," he said.
And with that, he walked off.
Aya cornered him near the dorm lift later that night.
No audience. Just flickering elevator light and a hallway that smelled like overcharged circuits.
"You didn't even stretch," she said. "Lance has three wins on record. He's fast."
"He's loud," Rook replied. "Not fast."
Her eyes narrowed. "You studied him."
"I study everyone."
"And me?"
He looked at her. "Still haven't figured out if you're better angry or calm."
Aya smirked.
Then, in a flash, she stepped forward — too close — just enough to break the usual social spacing. Not a flirt. A test.
He didn't react.
That seemed to amuse her.
"You'll crack eventually," she said, stepping back. "Everyone does in this place."
"Maybe," Rook said.
She left without looking back.
Nico was already inside when Rook returned to their room — lying on his bed, goggles off, projection feed running above him.
"You're trending," he said. "Did you know that?"
Rook sat by the window. "Does it matter?"
Nico shrugged. "Matters to some people. You know who was watching the Games today?"
"Everyone."
"Yeah, but really watching. Captain Virex was there. The Leo."
Rook stared out the window. "I know."
Nico paused. "You ever meet a Zodiac?"
"No."
"I wonder what they're like off-camera. Bet they're weird."
Rook said nothing.
Nico sat up. "Hey. I looked you up earlier. On the public records."
Rook turned his head slightly.
"You're clean," Nico said. "Too clean. No childhood records. No city ID prior to three years ago. That's rare. You off-grid?"
"Reina Voss adopted me. I grew up in District 8. Not much to report."
"Huh. Makes sense. You don't move like a high-tier brat. More like… someone who's had to survive."
Rook stood and pulled off his jacket. "Is that a compliment?"
"Depends," Nico said. "You planning to stab me in my sleep?"
Rook gave the smallest smile.
"No. You're too useful."
That night, Rook watched the Arena replay one more time.
Not for Lance. Not for his own moves.
For the upper balcony — one figure seated alone, golden crest gleaming, unmoving.
Captain Virex.
Hernan's finger hovered over the pause button.
The image froze on the man's face.
He stared at it, long and cold, eyes burning from the inside out.
Then he deleted the video.
He didn't need to see it again.He had it memorized.