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100: A Break In Silence
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2025-05-12 07:01:59A week later, in the underground testing facility, history was being rewritten.
Engines roared to life, the sound filling the cavernous space, but there was no distinct smell of gasoline. No telltale exhaust fumes to cloud the air. The only thing that lingered was the unmistakable hum of progress—a soft purr, steady and unrelenting. The SpitFire Dominion. The SpitFire Cerberus X. The SpitFire Phantom S. Three prototypes. Three legends in the making. All powered by water. Prototype H²O had once been an impossible dream—a fantasy that defied everything the automobile industry had relied on for over a century. It was the breakthrough that everyone thought couldn’t happen, and yet here they were, watching the impossible unfold before their eyes. The promise of a world without pollution, without the need for fossil fuels, was now real. One of the engine
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THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 173 - The Trade
Midterms were finally over.The Academy felt like a corpse in the snow—drained, hollow, barely twitching.Students staggered across the frost-glazed lawns with caffeine in their veins and bloodshot eyes. Printers were still jamming out paper like distress calls. Someone had curled up and cried beside the vending machine. Someone else had definitely screamed into a stack of history books.Everyone looked like they’d either punched a wall, kissed a rival, or trauma-bonded with their TA.House Six?Too chaotic to break. Too feral to fold.But the air around them was volatile.Joy had nearly punched Hannah in the throat. Nearly. If Miriam hadn’t snatched her wrist and dragged her out of the West Wing Library with the reflexes of a track star, there would’ve been blood on the marble floor and probably a write-up.“You let her play you once,” Miriam had snapped under her breath, surprisingly strong for someone whose primary weapon was sarcasm and Wi-Fi. “Don’t give her another chance to sa
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 172 - Trial Prep
Midterms were finally over.The Academy felt like a corpse in the snow—drained, hollow, barely twitching.Students staggered across the frost-glazed lawns with caffeine in their veins and bloodshot eyes. Printers were still jamming out paper like distress calls. Someone had curled up and cried beside the vending machine. Someone else had definitely screamed into a stack of history books.Everyone looked like they’d either punched a wall, kissed a rival, or trauma-bonded with their TA.House Six?Too chaotic to break. Too feral to fold.But the air around them was volatile.Joy had nearly punched Hannah in the throat. Nearly. If Miriam hadn’t snatched her wrist and dragged her out of the West Wing Library with the reflexes of a track star, there would’ve been blood on the marble floor and probably a write-up.“You let her play you once,” Miriam had snapped under her breath, surprisingly strong for someone whose primary weapon was sarcasm and Wi-Fi. “Don’t give her another chance to sa
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 171 - Heartbeat & Crown
By the time House Six had explored the last of the fifty underground bunkers, Thornecrest Academy had already started changing.The cold had settled in for real, thickening the air around the buildings like frostbitten silk. Leaves clung to the last branches in bruised reds and rusted golds, and the duck pond by the greenhouse had half-frozen over, still and sharp like a cracked mirror.That was where they found the body.Victor Save. House Valiant. Top of his ethics class, forgettable in a crowd.Officially? Drowned.Unofficially?The Academy bloomed with whispers.Some said he’d fallen. Others, that he’d been held under. The more dramatic voices insisted the pond was cursed, that every few years, it took someone who looked too closely at their own reflection.House Six didn’t entertain rumors. They watched. They listened.And they didn’t buy a word of it.Fiero stood at the common room window, shoulders rigid, one hand pressed flat against the frosted glass. His breath fogged fain
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 170 - Nobody Is Innocent
The air in the House Six common room was doing something weird.It wasn’t just tense. It was... off. Like the room had paused to eavesdrop.Xavier still looked comfortable—annoyingly so. He lounged back in the armchair like it was his throne, legs crossed, one hand draped lazily over the armrest. His smirk hadn't moved since Joy had spoken.But his eyes had.Just a flick. A narrowing. The tiniest reaction to a line none of them ever thought they'd hear:“You’re Mikael’s son.”Joy’s words still hung in the air like cigarette smoke.No one moved. Not even Xavier. Not at first.Then he leaned forward slowly, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s an interesting theory, Joy.”His tone was smooth, voice low, like he was trying not to yawn. That smug little tilt to his head? That was bait.Joy didn’t take it. She squared her shoulders. “It’s not a theory.”That landed. Not because of her voice—it was flat, steady—but because of what it implied. That she’d already made up her mind. That sh
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 169 - The Son, the Sword, the Split
The scent of leather, aged wood, and the lingering smoke of Xavier’s cigars thickened the air as Fiero stepped into the House Six common room. Everything about the space—dim lighting, the low hum of conversation, the way shadows pooled at the edges felt more like a private lounge tucked inside a dangerous city than a student dorm.His muscles ached from training. Bruises bloomed along his ribs, dull purples and sharp reds under his black shirt, still damp with sweat from the boxing ring. The pain felt good. It kept him tethered. Focused.The scene before him was exactly what he expected.Moses and Samuel hovered over the pool table, swearing under their breath as chalk dust bloomed into the light. The rhythmic clack of cue balls tapping echoed like a ticking clock, consistent, grounding.At the chess table, Miriam and Mika sat in near-silence, their gazes locked in a silent war. Miriam’s glasses were slightl
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 168 - In The Wake Of Silence
The mid-terms were drawing near, and with them, the second half of the House Tournaments loomed on the horizon.The air at Thornecrest buzzed with the static crackle of nerves and sharpened ambition. Training fields were packed from dawn until curfew, sweat-soaked uniforms tossed beside blunted weapons. Strategy meetings stretched long into the night, voices hoarse over half-empty coffee cups and holographic schematics. Everyone had something to prove. And something to lose.House Royal polished their dueling techniques with precise, almost military discipline. House Titan pushed their athletes to the brink, timing every sprint, every spar, every breath. House Prestige obsessed over choreography and charisma, tailoring performances that would seduce the judges before a blade ever left its sheath.Every house was preparing.And the case of the missing second-year student? All but forgotten.Officially, the academy had filed it under burnout—a student crushed by expectations, vanis
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