CHAPTER NINETEEN: OF VEIL-CODED GHOSTS AND THE GIRL WHO CLOSED THE CURTAIN
ALEXIE'S POV
SUPREME ALLIEVO ACADEMY — CROWNSPIRE LIBRARY PERIMETER
The moment Lyle's Crownsigil pulsed through my emitter, I moved.
No words. No questions. Just war.
There's only one reason he'd signal me like that—
Cloak Tri-Havoc's path. Total wipe. No shadows. No cleanup.
Which, in Ardent Court terms, translates to: The war just knocked. We're not answering. We're already inside.
My bracelets shimmered. Both of them. Twin Veil Emitters—designed for disruption, built for vanishing. They didn't glitch. They didn't flicker. They activated. The shimmer turned solid for half a second. A ripple across invisible air.
The war had arrived. But we weren't opening the door. We were already inside the house.
Behind me, I felt the familiar shift—Thres had already turned. One hand hovered over the collapsed kinetic hammer strapped to his back. His eyes scanned every corridor exit, calculating breach angles with terrifying stillness. Our wall. Our reckoning if the world dared move first.
"Lyle?" he asked, voice solid and low.
"Cloak order," I confirmed, my tone flat. "Full sync blackout. Tri-Havoc's in motion."
Tofer appeared just ahead—stepping out from between the glass-locked archives, sonic gloves already crackling. One look from him, and I knew: he'd heard it too. His audio sensors had caught Lyle's override layer before the rest of the system even processed it.
"Frost Monarch's in the Commons?" he asked, voice low.
I nodded once. The answer tasted heavier than I expected.
"The Pact moved faster than we thought."
"Then we move faster than them."
Tofer's gaze narrowed. Thres's jaw tensed. They both moved forward—no need for more questions. We didn't waste time on plans. Not when the Crown had already made his call.
We ran.
From the Crownspire Library, we flew down the eastern spine corridor. The light-halls flashed blue-white across our vision as we passed—marble echo, tactical silence, eyes overhead. The Academy was too quiet. Too posed. As if waiting for applause that wouldn't come. Break week was supposed to mean silence. Study. Detention-in-disguise. But silence is deceptive here. Especially when it hums with ghost-code.
If Tri-Havoc is the Ardent Court's first response—blunt, emotional, elite—then we—Tri-Bastion—are the calculated recoil. The fallback. The aftermath waiting to strike.
We are the backline. And today, the backline will not break
Because if we lose Khaizer Dylan, we don't just lose a possible sovereign.
We lose Ari. And the Ardent Court has already lost her once. We are not losing her again.
The Allievo Commons came into view, and I almost laughed. Peaceful. Polished. Pretending.
Every table was occupied. Every student seated a little too precisely. Every High Chamber council watches with overperformed disinterest. It was stagecraft. All of it.
But I saw past the set. Because in the farthest booth—half-shielded by a decorative plant, smirk barely loaded—sat Khaizer Dylan Dela Vega. Iced Americano in hand. Frosted-blazer collar turned up like rebellion was a dress code. Still smiling. Still oblivious. Still entirely surrounded by ghosts.
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OPERATION WINTERSPINE (Strings Between Us Book 2)
Teen Fiction✧ STRINGS BETWEEN US ✧ Book Two: Operation Winterspine by miszywitch She thought she buried the war with her title. But some crowns aren't laid down--they're reactivated Arielle Rylance Del Rio walked away from the Ardent Court, from the strategist...
