The bell echoed across the Virelia Academy courtyard, but Neo Mojaki didn't move. He sat still, perched at the edge of the outer wall, watching students flood into the glass-paneled halls like patterned chaos. They had presence. He had purpose.
No one noticed him.
He liked it that way.
The academy was built like a modern cathedral—tall, pristine, symmetrical. Everything about it screamed perfection and hierarchy. To most, Virelia was a prestigious sanctuary for the gifted. But Neo knew better. Beneath its marble and order was a system designed to fracture minds.
And he blended in perfectly.
"Section 12, Room A," his schedule said. Standard orientation. Neo ran his fingers over the card, scanning the encrypted code at the bottom—not because he didn't know where to go, but because he wanted to see who was watching. Three cameras. Two mirrors. One hidden observer in a suit with a pin that shimmered ever so slightly.
They were already testing him.
Neo rose without a sound. His footsteps barely echoed on the polished floor. His bag carried nothing of interest—just a single journal, a pen, and an old chess piece: a black knight. Bent slightly. Scarred from years of play.
Inside the class, students were already staking territory—loud ones in front, pretenders in the middle, analysts in the back. Neo sat near the window. Third seat from the rear. Not close enough to be isolated. Not far enough to be suspicious. He knew the psychology of placement.
"Neo Mojaki," the teacher read from the roster, squinting. "No guardian listed. No prior records. Transfer by special protocol…"
Murmurs.
A red-haired boy laughed under his breath. "Ghost student."
Neo didn't react. The teacher continued, uneasily. "Let's… proceed."
For the rest of the day, Neo said nothing. Watched everything. Recorded patterns: who gossiped, who manipulated, who watched who when they thought no one was watching. He learned the room. He always learned the room.
But the room didn't learn him.
At dusk, he returned to Dorm Sector Delta. His unit was sparse—metal bed, sink, mirror, one ceiling light that flickered faintly. He placed the black knight on the window ledge, opened his journal, and wrote:
**"No moves yet. But they're placing pieces. Echo Step dormant. I'll wait. I always wait."**
And beneath that:
**"Storms begin in silence."**
Outside, Virelia gleamed with ambition. Inside, a silent storm prepared to awaken.