Chapter 135| Proximity Encounters

Chapter 135: Chapter 135| Proximity Encounters

Nyx found Zane during the lunch break on Thursday.

Not the cafeteria, she wasn’t the cafeteria type. The eastern corridor on the second floor, near the window alcove that nobody used because the bench was too narrow and the afternoon light came in at the wrong angle. Zane had been sitting there for eleven minutes with a protein bar and no particular agenda.

He’d texted Maren earlier that morning. Told her he might be off joint training for a while, that he had a few things to sort out and would handle his reps himself in the meantime.

Maren replied: I understand.

No follow-up. No questions. Just that.

’Maybe because she actually does,’ he thought.

Nyx dropped into the space beside him like she’d been invited.

"Calloway."

He glanced sideways. His eyes caught her voice and frame first, then settled on her most noticeable feature, her large breasts, difficult to miss and even harder to pretend he hadn’t noticed. But he’d already recognized her from her voice before he even turned to look.

She’d been his type since day one. Curvy, full-figured, and with a presence that was hard to ignore. He wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

"Hale," he replied.

She had her assessment results folded in her hand. Didn’t open them. Just turned them over once between her fingers and set them flat on her knee like she’d already memorised what they said and had no further use for the paper.

"Welcome to the B-ranks," she said, eyes on him in a way that wasn’t casual about it.

Zane smirked. "That’s what the NSA gave me."

"Mm." She looked out the window at the quad below. "Interesting classification for someone whose compact force test read amber and whose velocity run looked like he was actively holding back."

Zane took a bite of the protein bar. Chewed. Swallowed.

"The equipment was just quite sensitive," he said.

"You said that to Maren already." A brief pause. "She told me."

"When did you start talking to Maren?"

"Maybe around when you introduced us," she said.

’She’s obviously lying,’ Zane thought.

"Okay," he replied. "I believe you."

"Better."

He didn’t say anything. Outside, two second-years were cutting across the quad. One of them was laughing at something, head thrown back, sound muffled to nothing through the glass. The other one was shaking his head like whatever had been said wasn’t worth the reaction it was getting.

Zane watched them until they disappeared around the corner of the east wing.

"I’ve been watching you since the training grounds," Nyx said.

It wasn’t a confession. It was a statement of fact, delivered the way she delivered most things. No decoration, no softening, no waiting to see how it landed before deciding if it needed adjusting.

"Week one," she continued. "The way your output lands. It doesn’t behave like a single Sigil working within its range."

"Sigils can have range," Zane said.

"They can." She finally looked at him. "But range doesn’t explain a signature split. Two distinct contact points on impact. Different force vectors. I’ve clocked it three separate times — training grounds, the sparring block, and yesterday’s assessment. All three were consistent."

He looked at the remaining half of his protein bar.

"You’ve been counting."

"I just happen to notice things."

’Yeah,’ he thought. ’I’ve noticed that about you.’

She wasn’t like Maren. Maren processed emotionally first and ran the logic after. Which meant there was always a readable beat, a moment where you could see which direction she was heading and adjust accordingly. Nyx ran the logic first and didn’t bother with the emotional layer at all. It made her harder to read and considerably harder to redirect once she’d decided something was worth her attention.

"Most people just took their classification and moved on," Zane said.

"Most people aren’t looking for what I’m looking for."

He turned that over. "Which is?"

She didn’t answer straight away. She looked back out at the quad, the afternoon light catching the edge of her jaw, and for a moment she seemed like she was genuinely calibrating,deciding how much to give him and how much to hold back for later.

"I have a theory," she said. "About mechanisms. About how output can be distributed across more than one Sigil without flagging as dual-class at the point of acquisition." She paused. "It’s still developing. I haven’t put it in my own notes yet."

Zane kept his expression level. "Sounds like an interesting research project."

"It is." She looked at him again. "You’d make an excellent case study."

"I’m flattered."

"You should be." No smile. Just the flat delivery that somehow managed to land as dry anyway. "Most people aren’t this cooperative without realising they’re cooperating."

Zane almost laughed. Caught it before it got out.

The corridor stayed quiet. A lone third-year passed at the far end without looking their way. The window light shifted slightly as something moved across the sky above the quad.

He leaned back against the wall behind the bench.

"What do you actually want, Hale? You didn’t walk all the way to the second floor east wing to run your theory past me."

She was quiet for a moment. Not hesitating, she didn’t hesitate, he’d established that much. Just not rushing toward the point before she was ready to make it properly.

"Nothing yet," she said. "I’m still working out exactly what I’m looking at. When I’m certain, not fairly sure, certain I’ll come back."

"I’ll be here."

"I know." She stood, picked up the results sheet, and tucked it under her arm in one clean motion. Then she stopped. Didn’t turn fully — just paused, weight shifted, like something had surfaced at the last second that she’d almost filed away and decided not to.

"The assessment panel flagged something in your innate signature," she said. "Vael mentioned it to Mori after you left. I was still at the far bench finishing my own second run."

Something in Zane went still.

"What did he say exactly?"

"That a dual-output reading was consistent across all three of your tests. Not a calibration error. Not interference from the equipment or the environment." She looked back at him. "He used the word anomaly. Said it twice. Mori asked him to pull the log before the other students came back in."

Zane held that.

She watched him hold it. Didn’t fill the silence. Didn’t seem to need to.

"Thought you should know," she said.

Then she turned back and left.

Zane watched her walk away. His eyes followed her figure as her hips swayed with each step, the short skirt of the NSA standard uniform moving along with her. Somehow, the same uniform that looked ordinary on everyone else seemed to suit Nyx perfectly.

The short skirt revealed her pale thighs whenever she moved, catching the corridor light. Even from behind, she had a figure that was hard to ignore.

His gaze eventually shifted to her hair. It was blue now, dyed from the brownish-black color she’d had when the semester started.

The blue suited her better.

’This suit definitely fits her better,’ he thought.

『 System Note: The host is distracted. 』

’Not distracted,’ Zane thought back. ’Observant.’

『 System Reply: Whatever helps the host sleep at night. 』