The moment Raine stepped out of the testing chamber, he knew.
Something had changed.
The air in the Arcanum's corridors was always cold, but now the chill sank into his bones, pressing into his skin like a lingering breath against his neck. It followed him, coiling beneath his ribs, a weight that had not been there before.
The officials had not spoken to him. Not a single word.
No placement. No ranking. No customary nods of approval or murmured discussions of potential.
Just silence.
The other examinees had been ushered away—to their futures, to their expected paths. Their steps had echoed down the polished stone halls, fading into the order of the Arcanum's world.
But Raine?
He had been led elsewhere.
Away from the others. Away from the main halls, where voices still hummed with certainty, where destinies were being assigned like coin changing hands.
His guide, a robed attendant, moved ahead of him with a stiff, measured pace. Not hurried. Not slow. Calculated. Each step fell exactly where it was meant to, never too loud, never too soft. A man trained to disappear into silence.
They walked through corridors unfamiliar to him, twisting deeper into the Arcanum's belly. The air felt thick, pressing against his lungs, filling his head with a quiet that was too heavy, too absolute.
Something was wrong.
Raine curled his fingers at his sides. He could still feel the cold pulse of the Resonance Stone beneath his hand, the unnatural surge that had traveled up his arm, sharp as lightning.
That wasn't supposed to happen.
The attendant never turned, never spoke.
He kept his distance—not physically, not by space, but by something else.
Something Raine could feel.
They were afraid.
The torches along the walls burned low, their flickering light casting shadows that stretched too far, twisting against the stone. It made the walls seem closer than they were, as if the corridor itself were closing in.
His escort stopped before a heavy wooden door, its iron hinges blackened with age.
The attendant pressed a palm against it. The wood groaned as it swung open.
Beyond, a chamber lay waiting.
Small. Bare.
Not an office. Not the hall where the rankings were announced.
Just a room.
A holding cell.
The attendant stepped aside. "Wait here."
Raine frowned. "For how long?"
No answer. The man simply turned and shut the door behind him.
A bolt slid into place.
Raine exhaled, slow and steady.
They were locking him in.
The room was empty save for a wooden bench against the far wall. No tapestries. No bookshelves. No windows.
Just stone.
Thick. Heavy. Impenetrable.
He had seen enough of the Arcanum's structure to know what this was.
This wasn't a waiting room.
It was a containment chamber.
Minutes stretched.
Raine paced, his movements careful, controlled. His breathing stayed even, but his heartbeat hammered against his ribs.
The Arcanum had protocols.
Every Resonance Test was recorded, categorized, ranked. No exceptions.
Except his.
He stopped mid-step.
Are they deciding what to do with me?
The thought sent a cold shudder through him.
Muffled voices stirred beyond the door. Low. Urgent. Arguing.
Then—footsteps.
The bolt slid back.
The door opened.
A different attendant stood there. Older. His robes bore a different sigil, one embroidered in dark thread across his chest. His expression was carefully neutral.
But Raine saw the tension in his shoulders. The way his hands were too still at his sides.
The way his eyes never quite met his.
"Your results are under review," the man said. His voice was clipped. Too formal. "You will receive placement in due time. Until then, you are not to leave the city."
Raine's stomach twisted.
Not to leave?
"That's—"
"You are dismissed."
The finality in his tone was like a closing gate.
No room for protest.
Raine stepped forward, past the threshold.
The hall outside was too empty.
No other examinees. No bustling officials moving between chambers. No sounds of lessons being taught in distant halls.
Just robed figures standing too still. Watching him.
His fingers twitched at his sides. His breathing stayed even, but his mind was racing.
He forced himself to walk. Steady. Controlled. Not too fast. Not too slow.
Don't run.
Running would confirm their fears.
Running would mark him.
The great marble archway leading outside loomed ahead, its polished columns framing the city beyond. Beyond it, the streets of Vaelora. Crowded. Loud. Safe.
The guards flanking the entrance did not move.
But their hands rested too casually on the hilts of their blades.
Waiting.
Raine stepped into the open air.
The cold hit his skin, sharp and biting, but he didn't stop. Not yet.
Not until he had reached the main streets, where the crowd swallowed him whole.
Only then did he slow.
His pulse still hammered.
They knew.
They didn't know what he was.
But they knew he wasn't normal.
And that meant he had one option.
He had to leave.
Tonight.