The message came through mid-meal.
TO: ROOK VALE
FROM: HEROIC CONCORD COMMAND
You are invited to a private evaluation under Zodiac Captain Leo (Virex) based on your Hero Games performance.
Report to Tower One, Sector Alpha. 0700 hours tomorrow.
Rook didn't react.
He just stared at the glowing screen as the cafeteria buzzed around him. Nico was mid-rant about drone licensing and banana-flavored protein paste. Tessa was seated across the room, eyes occasionally flicking toward him.
Aya hadn't spoken to him since the kill.
He closed the message. Finished his meal.
Left the tray spotless.
That night, Tessa caught him outside the dorms, near the training rings. The air smelled like ozone from energy discharge drills. Cadets jogged laps under floodlights. But Rook stood still, facing the tower in the distance.
"You're not seriously going," she said.
He didn't turn.
"Rook."
"I am."
Tessa stepped closer. "Do you know who that is? Do you know what it means to be in the Zodiac's personal orbit? People disappear when they get too close."
"Maybe I like gravity."
She frowned. "This isn't a joke."
"I'm not joking."
She exhaled hard. "You killed someone yesterday. And now the most powerful man in the Hero Concord wants to look you in the eye."
He looked at her then — calmly, directly.
"That's what he'll get."
Her voice softened. "Why are you doing this?"
He paused.
Then: "Because this is how you climb."
Tower One was not just a building.
It was a statement.
Gold-trimmed glass rose in spirals. Levi-lifts glided silently through the inner shaft. The base lobby alone was larger than the academy's entire central hall — filled with kinetic sculptures, holograms, and honor plaques etched with the names of fallen heroes.
Hernan stood in the lift, rising.
Each floor passed like a countdown.
When the doors opened, the first thing he noticed was the quiet.
Zodiac floors were empty. Controlled. Air-conditioned silence wrapped around him like static.
A woman in a white uniform greeted him without expression.
"Cadet Vale. Captain Virex is waiting."
She led him into an observation room. Floor-to-ceiling glass overlooked the city. A long table stood in the center, flanked by two chairs.
Virex stood with his back to him, hands folded behind.
The armor was unmistakable — golden-lion crest across the shoulders, matte-black trim, light glinting from every line.
Rook approached, footsteps soft on polished steel.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
Virex turned slowly.
His eyes were warm. Kind.
Practiced.
"Rook Vale," he said, smiling. "You impressed me."
Rook didn't speak.
"I've reviewed your match footage," Virex continued. "Your instincts are rare. Your control is even rarer. Tell me—how does someone your age move like that?"
"I practice."
"Where?"
"Everywhere."
Virex laughed — a low, pleasant sound.
"I've met a lot of students who try to impress. You don't seem to care."
"I care about results."
Virex stepped closer. Not threatening. Casual.
"But not about fame?"
"No."
"Then why be a hero?"
A beat of silence.
Rook met his eyes. "To change things."
Virex smiled wider. "That's the right answer."
He turned back toward the window.
"I'm assembling a short-term mentorship team. Field-oriented. Special selection. I'd like you on it."
Rook's heart didn't race.
His breath stayed level.
This was the invitation.
The opening move.
"I accept," he said.
Virex nodded. "Good. We'll speak again soon."
Outside the tower, the sun had started to rise.
Rook walked back through the plaza, hands in his pockets, eyes on the marble under his feet. In the reflection of the polished walls, his face looked too calm.
Too clean.
Tessa stood near the security gates, arms folded, waiting.
He walked past her without stopping.
She called after him.
"Did he seem like a good man?"
He didn't pause.
Didn't lie.
"No," Rook said.
"But I'll make him bleed like one."