เข้าสู่ระบบIronclad had a way of turning against its own.The corridors that once echoed with disciplined footsteps now roared with alarms and overlapping commands, the academy’s voice stripped of order and reduced to a snarl. Red emergency lights washed the walls in a blood-dark glow, transforming familiar hallways into something feral and hostile. Steel doors slammed shut in distant wings. Automated defenses hummed awake beneath the floors.The hunt had begun.Xander half-dragged, half-carried Zade through the lower levels, moving with brutal efficiency. He didn’t slow unless absolutely necessary, didn’t hesitate unless Zade stumbled—and even then, his grip tightened, refusing to let him fall.Zade’s shoulder burned where Morrex’s blade had cut him, pain radiating in sharp pulses that blurred the edges of his vision. Blood soaked through the fabric Xander had pressed to the wound, warm and slick against his skin. Every step jarred him, but he for
The air inside the Rite Chamber was suffocating. A tension so sharp it could slice through steel hung between the towering walls, the light from the runes still pulsing faintly beneath Zade’s boots. The entire academy seemed frozen in disbelief, watching as one of its highest Alphas defied protocol before the Council. Zade could still feel the faint echo of Xander’s presence—a wall of dominance so vast that it bent the air itself. His aura lashed out, warning, furious, protective. But beneath that rage was something Zade recognized too easily. Fear. Not fear of Morrex. Fear for him. Guards moved again, but slowly this time, uncertainty dripping from their steps. Xander’s eyes flicked to them once, and three halted immediately. The other two shifted their stance, but no one dared make the first move. Zade felt his pulse hammering, every instinct screaming to move closer, to reach for him. But the moment his hand t
Ironclad rang the bell at dawn. Not the academy bell that signaled drills or classes, but the old one—deep, resonant, forged from alloy no cadet could name. It echoed through the towers, through stone and steel, vibrating down into bone and instinct alike. The sound carried one message only. The Rite of Ascendancy had begun. Zade stood in the center of the preparation chamber as the final restraints disengaged. The suppression field faded slowly, like a breath being released, and the sudden return of sensation nearly dropped him to his knees. His Omega instincts surged, raw and unfiltered, screaming danger, screaming run, screaming Alpha nearby—but there was nowhere to go. He straightened anyway. He had learned long ago that fear only sharpened Ironclad’s teeth. The doors opened without ceremony. Six guards waited outside, faces impassive, armor dark and ceremonial rather than t
The academy always felt dangerous, but as the sun sank behind the steel spires, the air sharpened into something ritualistic, heavy with expectation. Lights dimmed across the upper towers, corridors emptied, and the hum of Alpha presence thickened until it pressed against Zade’s skin like an invisible weight.They locked him in the preparation wing.Not a cell—Ironclad never called it that—but a stark, circular chamber carved from black stone, runes etched faintly into the walls. Suppression fields hummed beneath the floor, subtle but unmistakable, designed to test endurance and control. A place where Alphas proved themselves.A place never meant for an Omega.Zade stood in the center of the room, hands clenched at his sides, breathing slow and deliberate. Every instinct screamed at him to hide, to curl inward, to protect what he was. But fear was a luxury he couldn’t afford tonight.The Rite of Ascendancy wasn’t just about strength.
Ironclad did not announce war.It never did.It preferred to dress brutality in protocol, to wrap cruelty in polished language and call it order. By the time dawn crept across the steel towers of the academy, the decision had already been made. Zade felt it in the air before anyone said a word—the way the halls felt tighter, the silence heavier, the Alpha presence pressing down harder than usual, as if the building itself was bracing to strike.He stood by the narrow window of the hidden room Kael had led them to after the meeting, watching the faint glow of morning bleed into gray. Xander leaned against the wall behind him, arms crossed, posture deceptively relaxed. But Zade could sense the tension coiled beneath his skin, sharp and restrained, like a blade waiting to be drawn.Neither of them had slept.Ironclad hadn’t given them the chance.“They’re moving faster than I expected,” Kael said quietly, seated at the sma
Ironclad locked down within minutes.Steel barriers slid from the ceilings. Emergency protocols screamed through the halls. Cadets were forced into dormitories, instructors rerouted, surveillance tightened until the academy felt less like a school and more like a prison holding its breath.Zade was vaguely aware of it all.He was aware of Xander’s arm locked firmly around him, solid and unyielding. Aware of being lifted, not dragged, not restrained—carried. Aware of the way Xander’s Alpha presence wrapped around him, not crushing, but shielding, like a storm wall turned outward.He drifted in and out as they moved.The world blurred into fragments: harsh lights, metallic corridors, the echo of boots pounding behind them, alarms shrieking like wounded animals. Somewhere in the chaos, Zade felt hands reach for him—authority, control, Ironclad trying to reclaim what it believed belonged to it.Xander growled.The sound vibrated straight through Zade’s bones.“No,” Xander said, voice low







