As Del walked ahead explaining the academy's simulation rooms, the group naturally began to slow. The five of them—Vorden, Erin, Layla, Peter, and Quinn—gradually drifted closer to where Ken.
Peter spoke first. "So... you planning to keep acting like a mute forever, or are you going to start talking to us eventually?"
Ken didn't respond right away. He looked down at the ground, then up at the sky, as if weighing something invisible.
Vorden chuckled. "I've been trying all day, man. Pretty sure he only talks when it's dramatic."
Erin crossed her arms. "Or when he's intimidating someone twice his size."
Layla tilted her head. "You didn't say much after the test earlier either. You said something to Quinn… about your last name."
That's when Quinn stepped forward, his voice quiet but direct. "Yeah. You said, 'This is the power of the Talen's."
Ken paused, eyes flickering toward Quinn's. The others went quiet.
Finally, he spoke.
"I expected you to come ask me questions, it seems like you did."
Quinn nodded slowly. "We share the same last name. I figured it wasn't a coincidence."
Ken looked at him for a long moment, then at the others.
"Im sure if Im supposed to say anything," he admitted. "But… maybe you should know."Just don't tell anyone."
Ken took a deep breath before continuing.
"The name 'Talen' doesn't show up on any modern registries. Not anymore. That's because the Talen family… chose to disappear."
Everyone leaned in a little closer, curiosity sharpening in their expressions.
"We're one of the Original Families," Ken said. "From before the global reformation, before ability tracking. Back when power ran in bloodlines and names meant everything."
Peter blinked. "Wait—you mean like legends? That kind of 'Original'?"
"They're not legends," Ken said firmly. "They just...decided to stop existing in public."
"Why?" Layla asked. "Why would a powerful family go into hiding?"
Ken's cyan eyes darkened slightly.
"Because power makes enemies. And the Talen family wasn't just strong… we were feared. But one day, something happened—something big. A decision was made, and we ended up vanishing. No records, no mentions, just shadows."
Quinn glanced down, absorbing the information.
"I didn't know any of this," he said.
"You wouldn't," Ken replied. "If you're from a branch that got separated early, maybe your family didn't keep the history alive. Or maybe they were told to forget. Or maybe they were killed during the Dalki war.
The group was silent now, even Erin.
Vorden finally broke it. "Okay, so… you're like royalty in hiding?"
Ken shook his head. "Not royalty. Just descendants of something dangerous. And if people find out what we're capable of—what's in our blood—we'll be hunted again."
Quinn held his gaze. "So what are we capable of?"
Ken gave a faint, knowing smile.
"Just shadows."
He stopped there.
The group leaned in, sensing more was coming but Ken's expression changed. His gaze subtly flicked around, glancing at other students lingering nearby, just barely within earshot.
He tensed, then exhaled slowly.
"That's all I can say. Not here."
Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
Ken lowered his voice. "Because this… this isn't something for just anyone to hear. When the time's right, I'll tell you the rest. Privately."
The others exchanged glances. Vorden, for once, didn't crack a joke. Erin simply gave a small nod, silently acknowledging the weight in Ken's tone.
Peter shrugged. "Fair enough. Long as you're not secretly planning world domination or something."
Ken almost smiled.
"No promises."
They chuckled, but Quinn kept his eyes fixed on Ken, the name Talen echoing in his mind.
There was more to this story.
And Quinn would be ready to hear it when Ken was ready to tell it.
******
As the tour continued, Ken, Quinn, Vorden, Erin, Layla, and Peter naturally drifted to the back of the group. It wasn't planned—but it felt more comfortable there, away from the constant stares.
The whispers started soon after.
"Why are they with him?" a Level 3 muttered.
"Those two are just Level 1s. And that girl—she's barely a 2. What are they doing hanging out with the elites?"
Ken heard it all. So did the others.
But none of them reacted.
If anything, Peter just leaned closer to Quinn and whispered, "Guess we're trending now."
Quinn rolled his eyes.
Del, still walking cheerfully at the front of the group, led them around the massive training complex and into a new section.
"This," he said with excitement, "Is our indoor combat arena! Think of it as the academy's proving ground. You'll find more testing equipment here, similar to what you experienced in the wastelands. But that's not all—each of those square platforms? Official dueling stages. All matches are logged and monitored. So if you want to challenge someone here, you better be ready."
The group looked around, some students whispering excitedly to each other.
Vorden let out a low whistle. "This place is insane. I feel like I could live here."
"Please don't," Erin said dryly.
Next, they passed through classrooms with tiered seating and reinforced glass walls—clearly designed to withstand any ability outbursts. The battle class areas were built like small stadiums, with plenty of space for action. Even the sports room resembled a high-tech military gym.
Del never stopped smiling. "Everything here is designed to bring out the best—or the worst—in your abilities.
Finally, they arrived at the library.
"As you can see," Del announced, gesturing to the towering building, "our library is split into three levels. First-floor access is standard for first-years—combat theory, elemental understanding, recorded battle history, and the basics of ability evolution."
He pointed to the staircase spiraling upward.
"Second-floor access is granted to second-year students. More advanced techniques, weapon augmentation theory, forbidden battle case files yes, I saw those eyes light up."
Some students chuckled.
"And the third floor…" Del's tone shifted slightly. "That floor is restricted to upper-tier military personnel only."
As the group began to murmur among themselves again, Ken felt the weight of eyes on him. And the same could be said for Erin and Vorden
They weren't just watching anymore—they were judging.
Why was someone like them with these low levels?
And yet, none of his group had pulled away. Not Layla. Not Peter. Not Quinn.
Especially not Quinn.
Ken glanced over, catching Quinn already looking at him again.
They didn't say anything. But something unspoken passed between them. The rest of the tour wouldn't change anything. They had already become a group.
Eventually, the tour came to an end just outside of the academy's towering dormitory building. It was as sleek and imposing as the rest of the facility—modern architecture fused with military-grade durability.
Del turned to face the gathered students, still smiling with that same relentless energy.
"And this," he announced, extending out his arm dramatically, "Is where you'll be staying. You'll find them surprisingly comfortable—well, until someone starts snoring."
A few students laughed.
"Once you've dropped off your things, feel free to explore the academy. No lessons today, so take the time to get settled and rest. Oh by the way remember the curfew is quite strict. If I were you I'll be arriving a few minutes before curfew starts."
That got a few nervous looks.
One by one, the students were handed a slip of paper by the assisting staff—each marked with a room number.
Ken unfolded his quietly, glancing down at the black ink: Room 19.
He turned around and walked back over to where the others were gathered near the edge of the path.
"What room did you all get?" he asked casually.
Vorden was the first to flash his paper. "Nineteen! Lucky number, maybe?"
Peter grinned, holding his up. "Same here. We're roommates."
Quinn flipped his card over and nodded. "Same number over here."
The four of them looked at each other, realization dawning.
Ken raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "Looks like we're stuck with each other."
Vorden clapped Ken on the back. "Not stuck but blessed. You get to wake up to this beautiful face every morning."
Ken gave him a flat look. "Well I gotta say you got quite the manly face Vorden."
Peter leaned in toward Quinn. "Is it too late to request a transfer?"
Quinn smirked.
Just then, Erin and Layla walked up, comparing their room slips.
"Room 20," Erin said, sliding the paper back into her pocket.
"Same here," Layla added. "I guess we're neighbors then."
A grin started to form on Vorden's face, "Now that's some good news."
"Don't push it," Erin said without looking at him.
As the six of them started toward the dorm entrance, a few of the nearby students paused, watching them again—especially the trio of lower-leveled Quinn, Peter, and Layla walking alongside the top scorers.
As the six walked confidently toward the dorm entrance, their light conversation and easy camaraderie made them stand out even more against the crowd of first-years still lingering around.
Ken didn't need to look back to know the others were staring. He could feel it.
One student, standing off to the side with a small group, narrowed his eyes at the scene. His grip on his room slip tightened.
"Just wait till the second years find out about this…" he muttered under his breath.
One of his friends turned toward him. "What do you mean?"
The boy hesitated. His voice dropped lower, almost to a whisper.
"My brother… he used to go here. Said he tried hanging out with the low-levels. Thought he could help 'em out or whatever."
His eyes flickered toward Quinn and Peter in the group ahead.
"Didn't last long. The second years found out, and dragged him out in front of everyone and.." he stopped, his jaw tightening. "Told every first year, this what happens when you hang out with the low levels who don't belong in this world." Then they started to beat him. Right there."
His friend's face paled, frozen with fear.
The boy didn't finish the story. He didn't need to.
Because the message had already been passed down.
The second years had a reputation.
And Ken's group, bold, unbothered, was breaking the unspoken social order and was about to draw their attention. Whether they were ready for it or not.