THE F-RANK THAT BUILDS ABILITIES

Morning came slowly.

The tower above the cliffside was quieter than usual, filled only with the rustle of wind through broken stone and the soft shimmer of residual trace in the air. Donnie sat on the northern ledge, arms wrapped around his knees, staring out at the valley far below.

Veera stepped beside him, arms folded, wearing an old cloak Mara had left behind. Her Trace Band had rebooted at 19% capacity—not much, but enough to stay aware.

"You didn't sleep," she said softly.

"I did. Just not the kind that helps."

She didn't push.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the trees shift in the wind.

"You look different," she finally said.

Donnie turned slightly. "So do you."

"You've gotten quieter."

"You've gotten louder."

She smirked faintly.

Then: "How did it happen? All of it?"

Donnie looked down at his hands.

"I stopped pretending the trace was theirs to define."

Veera nodded slowly.

"You always moved differently," she said. "Even when we were just learning. Your energy was off-rhythm."

"I thought it was wrong."

"It wasn't. It was yours."

Donnie turned back to the horizon.

"When you started defending me back at Ridgewood… did you know how far this would go?"

"No," she said. "But I hoped."

"Hoped for what?"

"That you wouldn't stop."

---

Later that morning, Donnie trained again.

But this time, he wasn't alone.

Veera sat on the platform, watching.

The two visitors observed from the outer ring of the courtyard.

Donnie took his stance.

He didn't activate any previous technique. Instead, he let the motion build from the way his body leaned forward—the shift in weight, the press of his heel into cracked stone.

The energy formed before he commanded it.

A thread of light. Gentle. Curved.

Then he stepped—and the flame flared sideways, not outward. It slashed like a sideways waterfall, collapsing inward before launching back in the opposite direction.

The field rippled.

Veera stood, stunned.

He hadn't even moved a full meter.

Just turned his hips.

"Do it again," she called.

He did.

And this time, the trace shaped itself faster.

The slash broke into three segments—first forward, then side, then rebound.

A full sequence.

His Trace Band responded:

> Movement Identified: Slip Curve

Classification: Break Arc

Function: Close-Range Control / Directional Counter

Development: 6%

Donnie exhaled.

Veera stepped closer.

"You're not just building new moves," she said. "You're letting them answer each other."

Donnie nodded.

"I think it's because the trace finally trusts me."

---

At the edge of the platform, the taller visitor spoke quietly to the other:

"He's reaching the second wave."

"What about her?"

"She's not a builder. But she's a translator."

"Same result?"

"Same danger."

They both turned away.

---

That evening, Donnie found Veera sitting beneath one of the ruined arches, legs crossed, sketchpad in her lap.

He smiled.

"You sketch now?"

"No," she said, smirking. "But I figured if you disappear again, I might need blueprints."

He laughed once, then sat beside her.

"I'm not disappearing."

"You sure?"

"I don't want to."

They sat together in the dimness, their only light the glow of the trace ring around the tower.

After a while, Veera said:

"Tell me something true."

Donnie thought for a moment.

Then:

"When I first copied Lucen's trace, I didn't want to beat him. I just didn't want to be forgotten."

Veera blinked.

"That's the real reason?"

He nodded.

"I thought if I moved like someone great, maybe someone would remember my name."

"And now?"

"I'm not trying to be remembered."

He looked up at the stars, voice calm.

"I'm trying to build something that can't be ignored."

---

Across the region, the Guild's surveillance director stared at new intel.

A pattern was emerging.

More students were breaking rhythm during official simulations. A girl in Zone 3 failed to execute a basic Flame Arc because she "felt the flow shift mid-trace." A boy in Sector 9 completed a defensive wall using two illegal movement sequences—without ever being taught them.

Contagion was spreading.

And the source kept blinking in and out of their grid.

> "Subject: Donnie Reeve – Visibility: Null / Recovery Rate: Negative"

"Status: In Influence Radius"

"Recommendation: Immediate Internal Disruption OR Passive Collapse Strategy"

The director leaned back.

"If we act now," she said, "we might win the battle."

Valen, sitting across the table, folded his hands.

"But if we wait… we win the war."

---

Donnie slept outside that night.

He didn't want walls.

He wanted sky.

Veera stayed close, resting across from him with her cloak pulled high over her shoulders.

Sometime past midnight, Donnie's Trace Band lit up silently.

> Development Milestone Reached

Sequence Thread Stabilized

Total Construct Paths: 7

Status: Builder-Type Confirmed

Classification: VANTA – Active Forming Core

He exhaled slowly.

His path was no longer just forming.

It was recognized.

Even if not by the Guild.

Even if not by the system.

It didn't matter.

Because trace didn't lie.

---

End of Chapter 17

© Anthony Osifo 2025 – All rights reserved.