THE F-RANK THAT BUILDS ABILITIES

By midday, word had spread beyond the tower.

Not officially. Not through messages or screens.

But through something more subtle—movements, choices, hesitation in drills, deviation in form. Students across regions were starting to move in ways that didn't match any recorded pattern. They turned a half-second early. They adjusted their rhythm without correction. They created sparks that were no longer predictable.

Instructors noticed.

So did the Guild.

And in quiet corners of practice halls and exam rooms, they began asking one question more often than any other:

> "Have you seen Reeve?"

---

Donnie stood at the top of the tower, arms folded, watching the clouds roll past in wide layers.

The two visitors had left before sunrise.

They didn't say goodbye.

They didn't have to.

They left behind a trace log stored on a cube—data from past failed Break Arc attempts, names of builders who vanished, and archived movement sequences that had been wiped from public systems.

Donnie didn't know most of the names.

But he recognized what they meant.

History had tried to swallow this.

But now it was leaking through.

And he was the crack.

---

Veera returned from the western cliff just as the wind picked up.

"Someone's following the trail," she said, tossing a wrapped cloth to Donnie.

He opened it. Inside were two old trace cards, the kind used in early-stage monitoring—each one had a signature on it.

"These were discarded in the forest," she said. "Two students from East Tier Academy. Their bands were scrubbed. But they were trying to get here."

Donnie looked at the signatures.

They weren't builders yet.

But they were reaching.

"You still think we're just surviving?" he asked.

"No," she said. "We're spreading."

---

That night, a storm rolled over the valley.

Donnie trained in the rain.

He didn't care about footing.

He welcomed the instability.

He moved with no goal except to test instinct under pressure. Every step, every lunge, every collapse of energy was designed without pre-planning. Letting the moment decide what happened next.

The downpour soaked his hair, his back, his clothes.

His Trace Band recorded none of it.

Because the trace had already internalized it.

Each movement added to the unseen library inside him—where Spiral Surge, Collapse Edge, and Halo Line weren't just techniques anymore.

They were reflexes.

By the time the rain ended, he had discovered something new.

Not through intention.

But through exhaustion.

A motion where his energy formed behind him instead of in front.

It didn't shield.

It didn't strike.

It lingered—like a backstep delay made visible.

Veera walked out under the dripping archway, staring.

"What is that?"

Donnie turned, still breathing hard.

"I think it's a pre-trace."

"A what?"

"An imprint. A form that finishes after I move."

She tilted her head. "Like a step that repeats itself?"

"Not exactly. Like… the trace remembers what I meant to do and finishes it for me."

She stared at the glow hanging behind his shoulder.

It dissipated gently, like a quiet push.

"What do you call that?"

Donnie thought.

Then smiled.

> "Residual."

---

The next day, a student at Sector Five Academy failed a test by refusing to follow a standard formation.

When asked why, he answered:

> "It didn't feel right."

When pushed further, he said:

> "It's not how Reeve moves."

No one corrected him.

But his score was marked zero.

---

Ridgewood was quieter than usual.

Lucen noticed it too.

The drills were duller. The responses more hesitant. Students were asking fewer questions—mostly because the instructors had stopped answering.

There was a tension in the air that even arrogance couldn't ignore.

"Where is he?" Lucen asked during a hallway walk with two other students.

No one replied.

But everyone thought the same thing.

Donnie Reeve was gone.

And yet somehow, still present.

---

In the tower, Veera practiced alone for the first time.

She wasn't trying to create new trace.

She was trying to understand her body in motion—every slight imbalance, every forced breath, every reaction too early or too late.

She learned how to catch herself before mistakes.

And how to let them happen when needed.

Donnie watched from a distance.

"She's becoming something," Mara said, stepping beside him.

Donnie didn't look away. "She already was."

Mara gave a faint nod.

Then her voice lowered.

"They're going to come again. This time, not just with uniforms or polite words."

"You saw the data spike?"

"Yes. And something worse."

Donnie turned.

"They've added you to the whisper list."

"What's that?"

"The names they're not allowed to speak out loud. The ones they instruct newer agents to avoid mentioning."

"Why?"

"Because if they say your name in front of a crowd, someone might ask why they fear it."

---

The Guild's central council met in silence.

A new image was displayed at the center of the room.

Not Donnie's face.

Not his trace patterns.

Just a word.

> VANTA

No one argued anymore about what he was becoming.

They were too late for that.

Now, the question had changed.

It was no longer "How do we stop him?"

It was:

> "How do we survive what comes after?"

---

Back in the courtyard, Donnie sat with Veera.

They shared a flat stone bench, steam rising from a bowl of food between them.

She broke the silence first.

"You know this can't stay quiet much longer."

"I don't want it to."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

He picked up a stick and began writing in the dirt.

One name.

Then two more.

Then five.

Names of people who had come before.

Some crossed out. Some underlined. Some incomplete.

"Most of them never had a chance," he said. "They built something new, and the world crushed it before anyone could follow."

"But you're still standing," Veera said.

He met her eyes.

"Because I didn't run when I stopped understanding what I was."

---

That night, Donnie wrote one final thing in his sketchpad before sleep.

> "They can't kill a movement they don't understand.

So I won't give them a shape to aim at.

I'll keep changing."

---

End of Chapter 18

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