The King's Guard

Chapter 10

Kael blinked again. The distortion in his vision didn’t go away. His ears rang with that same persistent, high-pitched hum. No one else reacted to it. His hands trembled slightly at his sides. The edge of the gate in front of him bent subtly to the left, as though warped by heat, then corrected itself a heartbeat later.

He knew this feeling.

It was the same dragging sensation he’d felt during the first trial. And again, deep in the Labyrinth. A pull which was subtle at first now stretched across the full span of his perception. It was like wading through a corridor filled with water while the rest of the world moved freely above the surface.

His breathing slowed. He pressed his palm flat against the cold wall beside him. The stone was rough beneath his skin, grounding, but only just. The simulation remained sharp and solid for everyone else. To him, it now felt misaligned…something in the environment didn’t quite sit right.

Behind him, there came a faint thud. Reyna dropped from the roof and landed in a half-crouch, her boots absorbing the impact with ease. She slid along the wall until she was beside him.

“I found him,” she said with a low and measured voice. “He’s circling the north corner of sector four. There’s a back alley we can use to intercept.”

Kael didn’t respond at first. Reyna then turned, and narrowed her eyes at him. “Hey. Kael.”

He finally looked at her. “Yeah. Got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t believe him, but after a pause, she gave a small nod. “Right. Let’s move then.”

They rejoined Kyna two streets over, by an abandoned bakery front. Reyna sketched the new route quickly with a few gestures. Kyna listened with a calm intensity, her expression unchanged. Kael said nothing. He simply followed as they turned into a narrower path behind a stack of empty barrels.

The buildings here loomed higher, their outlines sharpened by the simulation’s false twilight. The windows were opaque, and the doors sealed. None of the projection civilians spoke. Their movements looped with uncanny rhythm: one man pausing every few steps to adjust his sleeve, a woman brushing the same invisible dust from her apron over and over.

The silence was worse than any noise. It pressed in.

“Alley curves left,” Reyna murmured, glancing at her wristband, “then drops into an underpass. We cut across from there.”

They advanced cautiously. Every footfall was calculated. There was neither idle chatter nor wasted words. Kael kept to the rear with a careful pace, scanning the surroundings with his eyes, but his thoughts wandered.

The Temporal Rift wasn’t just unpredictable now. It was beginning to intrude on its own: uninvited and untriggered. There was no activation sequence or conscious thought. It responded to stress like a reflex. He hadn’t meant to call on it, but it had still answered.

And it wasn’t just flickering at the edge anymore. It was here.

At the curve in the alley, Kael paused and knelt near a rusted drainpipe, pretending to check its placement. Kyna passed him silently, not sparing a glance. Her focus remained ahead.

Reyna had stopped at the entrance to the underpass and looked back. “You’re lagging.”

“I’m fine.”

She held his gaze for half a second, then turned and moved on.

The informant had taken a sharp right beyond the next junction, disappearing into the remains of a tunnel where a simulated tram once operated. It was a collapsed zone now, complete with crumbling walls and exposed piping—a detail of the training course meant to simulate urban decay.

Reyna raised her arm and pointed up to a broken ledge just above the tunnel mouth.

“We’ll take high ground this time,” she said. “Kael, watch from the corner down there…cover the approach.”

Kael nodded and moved to his assigned post, settling behind a cracked crate left beside the crumbling pavement. He crouched low, keeping to the shadows, and let out a slow, steadying breath. His arms still felt light. His muscles were fine, but something inside him was misaligned. The earlier pulse had faded—but he could feel it waiting, just beneath the surface.

Below, the informant emerged once more. He spoke briefly to an NPC trader. Kael saw him draw something small and pale from his sleeve. A folded paper? Could be the manifest.

Reyna gave a silent signal from above.

Kyna crossed the ledge, moving like a shadow: silently, swiftly, and precisely.

The moment felt clean.

Kael narrowed his eyes.

But then something twisted.

He flinched.

The ground beneath him shimmered. The cobblestones rippled, not with motion, but with light. The bend in his vision returned. Time itself staggered…gestures desynchronised, the NPCs drifting out of step with reality by a breath. One man turned too early. Another blinked too late.

Kael’s balance shifted.

He stood up albeit too quickly.

His shoulder nudged the crate beside him. It tipped, and then fell, crashing against the stones with a harsh clatter.

The informant’s head snapped up.

He bolted immediately.

From the ledge, Reyna swore under her breath and vaulted down in one fluid motion. Her boots hit the cobbles hard. Kyna followed without hesitation, landing a few paces behind.

Kael stood frozen for a second, eyes wide. He hadn’t meant to move. He hadn’t even formed the thought.

And then the silence shattered into movement.

The informant sprinted into a narrow side corridor, his coat flaring behind him. Without pause, Reyna gave chase, angling to cut him off from the flank.

“Block the north exit!” she shouted, already adjusting their route mid-pursuit.

Kael turned, his legs moving almost on instinct. But his body didn’t feel right. His stride lacked rhythm, and his feet thudded unevenly. He turned the corner Reyna had indicated, only to spot two projection guards approaching from the other end of the corridor.

He was too exposed now.

He ducked behind a barrel just as they passed, holding his breath. Their simulated voices murmured something about route patrols before fading out of earshot.

Kael waited just a little longer, then slipped out and tried to rejoin the others through a side passage. But the moment he stepped forward, his vision stuttered just slightly.

The alley in front of him warped. Walls curved inwards like a tunnel seen through water. His balance faltered.

He blinked hard.

It was too late.

His shoulder clipped a wall he hadn’t seen. Pain flared down his arm as he slammed into the stone, his legs giving out beneath him. He hit the ground hard, one knee grazing across the cobbles. His elbow knocked against the base of a crate.

The world settled again, as if embarrassed by its own instability. The air thickened. The ringing in his ears returned, louder now. His breaths shortened.

Somewhere distant, Reyna’s voice came through the wristband, slightly distorted: “Target neutralised. Manifest acquired.”

Kael didn’t answer. He just sat there, leaning back against the cold wall, struggling to draw air that didn’t feel like mist.

He heard footsteps.

Kyna crouched beside him, one brow slightly furrowed. Her eyes sharply searched his face.

“You didn’t answer your comm.” she said.

Kael turned his head slowly. “Sorry. Just… needed a second.”

She studied him. “You’re pale. Are you sure you're okay?”

“I’m fine.”

She didn’t argue. But she didn’t agree with him either.

Reyna arrived a moment later, her uniform slightly scuffed, and a folded slip of parchment in one gloved hand.

“Got it,” she said briskly, then caught sight of Kael on the ground. “You good?”

Kael nodded once. “Yeah.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

She didn’t press further. She simply gave a short exhale and nodded back. “Simulation ends in ten. Let’s move to the drop point.”

No one spoke as they walked. Kael moved stiffly, dragging himself back to his feet, following the others down the winding street.

The city reset as they passed through. Projections returned to their routines—repeating conversations, resuming trade, adjusting stalls with mechanical purpose. The world began to loop again.

At the teleport rune near the square, the trio stood side by side in silence. The rune lit from beneath, encircling them in a familiar glow.

The flash was brief but blinding.

They reappeared in the Academy’s eastern chamber. The air was colder here.

Archon and Drax folded their arms, and stood at a distance watching. A wall of monitors lined the back wall, flickering with different squad feeds. None of them were still active.

“Squad Twelve,” one of the monitors called out. “Successful retrieval. No penalties.”

Reyna stepped forward and handed over the manifest. The monitor checked it against a record and gave a brief nod.

“Dismissed.”

They left the chamber quietly. No cheers. No debrief.

Outside, the corridor was quiet except for the soft sound of their boots on the polished floor.

Reyna turned sharply to Kael. “Whatever that was, make sure you sort it.”

He met her gaze. “I said I’m fine.”

“You weren’t.”

“I didn’t ask for a debrief.”

“Hmmm…”

She held his gaze for a second, then gave a curt nod and turned away without another word.

Kyna lingered though.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you,” she said, her voice softer now, “but it’s not nothing.”

Kael didn’t answer. His eyes drifted past her, and out towards the faint light coming in from the windows.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” she added, “but you probably should.”

Then she left too, following Reyna down the hall.

Kael stayed behind, standing just outside the archway. He could feel the weight of it again—the pressure in his chest.

If it had happened one minute earlier, they would’ve failed the mission. If it happened again...

He didn’t finish the thought.

Instead, he turned and walked toward the barracks, one step at a time, as if the ground itself might shift beneath him.

He didn’t look back.