Morning light pierced through the academy's art deco windows. Kasper's nanobots tingled beneath his skin, a constant reminder of why the ATA wanted him dead. Or worse – captured and studied like a lab rat.
The academy's brass doors hissed open, and Kasper's world tilted on its axis. There, leaning against Professor Chen's desk with casual grace, stood Nailah. Her combat uniform hugged curves he knew all too well, the standard-issue fabric somehow looking like haute couture on her frame.
"Welcome back, cadets," Professor Chen's voice cut through his shock. "Meet your new classmate, Nailah Cargill. She's transferred from the Caribbean Division."
Nailah's smile could cut glass. "Pleasure," she purred, her eyes finding Kasper's. "Some of us have already met."
Sarah materialized at Kasper's side, her arrival so perfectly timed it seemed orchestrated. Her medical scanner hummed softly as she checked his vitals, her touch gentle and grounding. "Your heart rate's elevated," she murmured, concern painting her features. "Should I be worried?"
Before Kasper could respond, Nailah sauntered over. "Sarah, right? The team's medic?" She extended a perfectly manicured hand. "I've heard so much about you all."
Sarah's grip was precisely calibrated – firm enough to be professional, brief enough to be dismissive. "Strange. Kasper's never mentioned you." Her free hand rested protectively on Kasper's arm, the gesture subtle but clear.
Professor Chen cleared her throat. "If the social hour is over, perhaps we can begin? Today's lesson: detecting and countering infiltration tactics."
"Partner up," Chen ordered after her introduction. "Cargill, since you're new, work with de la Fuente. Show us what the Caribbean Division taught you."
Sarah's hand tightened imperceptibly on Kasper's arm. "Are you sure that's wise, Professor? Kasper's still recovering from that shoulder strain last week. Maybe he should work with someone more... familiar with his limitations?"
The concern in her voice was perfect – professional, caring, impossible to argue with. Yet something in Nailah's eyes suggested she saw right through it.
"I'm fine," Kasper said, perhaps too quickly. Sarah's constant care, while comforting, sometimes felt suffocating. "Best way to test the shoulder is to use it, right?"
Nailah's smile turned predatory. "Don't worry, Sarah. I'll be gentle." The words dripped with hidden meaning.
Their sparring match quickly escalated beyond standard academy protocols. Nailah moved like liquid lightning, each strike pushing Kasper to his limits. He found himself rising to meet her challenge, his movements sharper, more focused than they'd been in months.
"Stop holding back," Nailah hissed during a clinch. "You're better than this. Or has all that coddling made you soft?"
The words stung because they held truth. Kasper responded with a combination he hadn't attempted since their street-fighting days. Nailah's eyes lit up with approval even as she countered.
"Enough!" Chen's voice cracked like a whip. "This is training, not a death match. Hit the showers, both of you."
In the medical bay afterward, Sarah tended to Kasper's bruises with practiced efficiency. "She's dangerous," Sarah said softly, her hands impossibly gentle. "I don't trust her. The way she fights... it's not standard academy training."
"Sometimes we need dangerous," Kasper replied, watching Sarah's expression carefully. "In our line of work—"
"We need control," Sarah corrected, her voice soothing. "Stability. Look how she pushed you today – you could have been seriously hurt." She pressed a kiss to his temple. "I just want you safe."
The words should have been comforting. Instead, they left Kasper feeling strangely hollow.
Later, Sean cornered him in the locker room. "Quite a show out there. Your ex fights like someone with military training, not academy basics." His usual joking manner was replaced by serious concern. "Question is, what's she really doing here?"
Before Kasper could respond, his datapad chimed. A message from his father: "DO NOT TRUST HER. Project Lazarus isn't what we thought. She's—"
The message cut off abruptly. When Kasper tried to reload it, the screen went black. In its place, a single line of text appeared:
"Some secrets should stay buried, little brother. For everyone's sake."
The words were signed with a familiar code – one Kasper hadn't seen since Mirage City. One that belonged to someone who was supposed to be dead.
His blood ran cold. Javier?
Behind him, Sarah appeared silently, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "Everything okay?" she asked, her voice pitched perfectly between concern and curiosity. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Kasper quickly closed the message. "Just tired," he lied, missing the calculating look that flashed across Sarah's face before being replaced by gentle worry.
"Come on," she said, taking his hand. "I'll make you some tea. We can talk about whatever's bothering you." Her smile was warm, inviting, safe. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
As he let her lead him away, Kasper caught a glimpse of Nailah watching them from across the hall. The disappointment in her eyes felt like a physical blow.