THE F-RANK THAT BUILDS ABILITIES

Donnie stood frozen, eyes locked with Mara Tais.

She looked nothing like the image from the classified file. No trace armor. No burning weapons. No crackling energy fields. Just calm eyes, a dark coat, and the kind of presence that didn't need explaining.

"Do you know why they sent you here?" she asked.

Donnie nodded. "To find you."

"No. They never intended you to find me. They just failed to bury the path deep enough."

He paused.

"I got a message."

"I sent it."

"Why?"

"Because you reached the threshold. And once someone reaches that far without collapsing… they deserve the truth."

Donnie lowered his bag gently to the ground. "What is the truth?"

"That this—" she gestured to the wide, abandoned field "—was once a sanctuary. For people like us."

Donnie stepped forward slowly. "Break Arc builders."

"No," she said. "For those who stopped trying to fit into the trace classification system at all. Builders. Interpreters. Wild-forms. Call it what you want. The Guild never gave us a proper name. Only a category. And once we cross a certain line, we become one thing to them: a variable."

Donnie frowned. "They called me contagious."

"They always do. Because the moment you create something original, someone else might see it—and understand."

She turned toward the cliff.

Donnie followed her gaze. The towers beyond were hollowed out, consumed by time and war. Faint sparks of old trace loops flickered in the corners—harmless now, like memories playing on repeat.

"What happened to this place?" he asked.

"They surrounded it. Not with armies—but with silence. Made sure no one remembered. One by one, the creators either vanished, or were pushed into isolation."

"You stayed."

"I stayed because someone had to."

Donnie reached into his coat and pulled out the small crystal cube.

"This was from Trace Zero. He said you'd understand."

Mara took it with two fingers.

The crystal lit up softly.

Then dissolved.

Information passed into her trace band directly.

Her lips barely moved, but her eyes tightened.

"I see. They're moving faster than I thought."

Donnie tilted his head. "Who is?"

"The ones running the Guild now aren't concerned with order. They're concerned with compliance. As long as the system follows their design, they don't care how many they lose along the way."

She turned back toward him.

"But you're not built for compliance. Are you?"

Donnie took a slow breath. "I tried to be. I studied like the others. Took notes. Learned their formations. Followed drills."

"And now?"

"I'm building something I don't fully understand. And the more I do, the less I want to stop."

Mara studied him for a long time.

Then she gestured toward the inner courtyard of the tower complex.

"Come. There's something I want to show you."

---

Veera was still in the archives.

She had already broken three student curfews and bypassed two warning scans. But no one had caught her. Or maybe… no one was bothering anymore.

She found a data folder tucked between two heavily encrypted files.

> RIDGEWOOD – OBSERVED STUDENT INCIDENTS

Section: UNDISCLOSED TRAINING ALTERCATIONS

Codeword: Reeve, Donnie – Modified Combative Flow

She opened it.

A document loaded.

A record of Donnie's early training sessions—unofficial logs taken by off-grid sensors. Someone had been studying him since his second month at Ridgewood.

One entry read:

> "Hybrid trace flow identified during low-stress spar. Movement resembles Spiral Curve but ends in split recoil."

"Conclusion: Incompatible with standard templates. Subject should be flagged preemptively."

Another:

> "Student continues to disrupt flow systems of peers unintentionally. Likely unaware. Subject's presence may inspire non-standard learning behavior."

Veera leaned back in the chair, heart pounding.

This wasn't a reaction to power.

It was a reaction to freedom.

---

In the cliffside tower, Mara led Donnie into a chamber marked with glowing rings in the floor.

At the center sat a floating trace node—unfinished, rough, not like anything Donnie had seen before. It pulsed with uneven light. Sometimes dim, sometimes violent.

"What is that?" Donnie asked.

"A fragment of what I once tried to create," Mara replied. "A living trace."

Donnie blinked. "Like… sentient?"

"No. But reactive. A trace that doesn't just follow your commands—it adjusts to your instincts. It learns with you."

Donnie approached slowly.

"It looks broken."

"It is. I stopped working on it years ago. Not because I failed. But because I was alone."

She stepped past him and placed her palm on a side console. The node calmed slightly.

"Donnie… what you've built—Crimson Bloom, Spiral Surge—they're not techniques. They're not skills. They're parts of a language."

"A language?"

"Yes. Every Break Arc builder speaks a different dialect. You're not just creating formations. You're teaching your trace how to think like you."

Donnie stared.

Mara stepped back.

"You want to finish your evolution? Then stop looking for the next move—and start listening to what your trace wants to do next."

---

Veera returned to the surface just before sunrise.

She didn't go back to her dorm.

She walked directly to Ridgewood's outer checkpoint and showed her Band.

The guard blinked.

"You've already used your temporary leave."

"I'm not coming back."

He stared. "That's a serious claim."

Veera looked him in the eye.

"I know."

He scanned her band anyway.

It flickered red.

> Student: Veera Holt

Status: Internal Watch (Connected Individual)

Activity: Field Departure – Unadvised

He looked at the screen.

Then at her.

"…You're serious."

"Completely."

After a long pause, he stepped back and hit the release key.

"Then run before they shut the gates."

She ran.

---

Donnie stood alone in the courtyard.

Mara had left him there.

Said she needed to activate a protective field around the tower—just in case the Guild traced the node again.

He stared at the open platform in the center.

Took a deep breath.

And let the movements flow.

But not from memory this time.

He didn't trigger Spiral Surge, or Shatterstep.

He didn't activate Collapse Edge or Bloom.

He moved with rhythm.

And let the trace decide.

It started as fire.

Then curved into sparks.

Then shifted into pressure—like a storm inside his arms.

Then silence.

And then—light.

A ring of trace formed around him.

Smooth. Circular. Controlled.

No attack. No explosion.

Just presence.

Donnie stood in the middle.

Breathing.

Alive.

His Trace Band blinked.

> New Pattern: Break Arc – Halo Line

Class: Unknown

Function: Defensive Reflection Layer

Reaction Time: 0.6s

Development: 1%

He smiled.

It wasn't flashy.

But it was his.

---

Far across the region, inside a Guild substation, a tech stared at her monitor.

"Sir… Donnie Reeve's signature just pinged."

Valen turned his head.

"Where?"

"Cliffside sector. Old Outpost Nine."

Valen chuckled.

"They always find it eventually."

"Do you want us to move?"

Valen turned away from the screen.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because that boy's building a revolution. And if we move now… we might stop it too early."

---

End of Chapter 15

© Anthony Osifo 2025 – All rights reserved.