Aeris begins her day at Aurora Academy, balancing routine and secrecy. As classmates prepare for a lockdown drill, a spore sample in biology triggers a strange hum in her blood. Her rivalry with Rowan Vale intensifies, and subtle signs hint that Aeris is not as ordinary as she appears. Beneath the surface, something is beginning to stir.
The frost on the window caught the morning light just right, casting soft lines across the floor. Aeris sat up slowly, already dressed in thought before her feet hit the ground. Her small room—bare but clean—held the rhythm of habit: neatly folded blanket, books stacked by subject, a tiny potted plant trying its best on the windowsill.
She reached out and touched the clay pot. For a moment, something faint and familiar stirred under her skin. Not pain—more like a whisper in her blood. Then it faded.
In the mirror, her face looked the same. Pale from the cold, freckles scattered across her cheeks. The quiet kind of pretty no one really noticed. She pulled her hair into a simple tie and wrapped her scarf tight before stepping into the hallway.
The corridors of the academy were already filling with sound—boots on metal floors, voices trading half-slept jokes, the low hum of heaters doing their best against the Antarctic air.
In the kitchen, Jenna stood by the kettle, sleeves rolled, her long red hair tied back. She glanced up and gave a tired but warm smile.
“Morning, star.”
Aeris poured herself a cup of tea. “It’s too early for nicknames.”
“Too late to pretend you’re not loved,” Jenna replied, flipping through a diagnostics slate.
They sat quietly as the water steamed and the sun edged up over the fortress walls. Jenna, once a captain of one of the last skyships, now spent most of her days monitoring spore data and pretending not to worry. Aeris had lived with her since her parents—Ava and Gabriel—left on a mission and never returned. She remembered her mother’s hands—steady, even when the world wasn’t. Or the way her father always checked doors twice.
“You slept?” Jenna asked without looking up.
Aeris nodded. “Mostly.”
“You’ll have a drill today. Second bell. Just a standard lockdown practice. Nothing serious.”
Aeris didn’t answer right away. “They’re never serious until something goes wrong.”
Jenna looked at her for a moment, then touched her shoulder. “Trust your instincts. But also trust the routine. It’s kept you safe this long.”
Aeris finished her tea, adjusted her uniform, and stepped out into the cold.
The school sat inside what used to be an old transit station, now rebuilt with steel siding and sensor gates. Students filtered in, wrapped in coats and scarves, IDs clipped to their sleeves.
Sera, her closest friend, waved from the scanner line. Her hair was tied in two tight braids, and her breath fogged the air between them.
“Please tell me you did the reading,” Sera said.
“I did,” Aeris replied.
“Good. Because I definitely didn’t.”
Behind them, Tavi—tall, awkward, always building something—held up a tiny metal bird. “Trade this for your dessert later?”
“You’ll have to offer something better than bad luck folded in tin,” Sera said.
Aeris smiled faintly. These were the moments that kept her grounded.
The scanner swept her from boots to brow. A soft click, and the light turned green. Her clearance passed, as always. But she still held her breath every time.
Waiting at the gate was Rowan Vale. Straight-backed. Immaculate. Eyes sharp as glass.
“You’re late,” Rowan said, even though Aeris wasn’t.
Sera muttered, “She’s early. You’re just dramatic.”
Rowan smirked and walked off, her coat swirling like she was in a film. Aeris said nothing.
The first class of the day was Biology. Instructor Idris stood by the board, tall and cold-eyed. A former soldier, now a teacher. He didn’t waste words.
“We adapt, or we die,” he said, and wrote the day’s topic in block letters:
PLANT MUTATIONS POST-FALL
He pulled out a sealed case. Inside, a sample of mutated plant tissue, dried and twisted, with faint silver spores clinging to it. Aeris felt something in her chest shift. Not fear. Just…alertness.
“This came from a bloom zone outside Aurora,” Idris said. “Safe for study. Unsafe in ignorance.”
As the class paired off, Aeris moved with Sera. Rowan watched them from across the room, paired with another top student. Her eyes kept flicking toward Aeris.
“She’s watching you again,” Sera whispered. “Probably jealous you scored higher on the lab quiz.”
Aeris didn’t respond. But she’d felt it too — Rowan’s eyes, too focused, too sharp. Not cruel. Just curious. Like she was trying to see underneath.
The spore sample shimmered faintly under the lights. Aeris adjusted her scope. She saw the structures clearly—the twisted lines, the way the cells bent in on themselves. She wasn’t sure how she knew what was wrong with it, only that she did.
“Second bell,” Idris said. “Lockdown drill. You all know the routine. Don’t treat it like a game.”
Groans went up around the room. Aeris stayed quiet. Rowan said just loud enough to hear, “Some of us spend more time looking perfect than understanding the work,” she muttered.
Aeris’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t turn.
After class, Aeris stopped at the washbasin. The mirror flickered slightly with the old lighting. Just for a second, she thought the light caught wrong—like something shimmered beneath her skin. But when she blinked, it was just freckles and frost.
Sera leaned in. “Lunch?”
“I’ll be there. I need to return the kit.”
Sera nodded. “Don’t let Rowan get to you.”
Aeris didn’t answer.
The second bell hadn’t rung yet. Enough time to walk slow, take the quiet route.
Instead of heading straight to the cafeteria, she took the long way. Through the old corridors with rusting pipes and faded murals. She ended up on a quiet balcony that overlooked the outer fences. The wind was sharp but clean.
She stood there until her thoughts stopped racing. Until her hands warmed back up.
“You hide in weird places,” someone said.
She turned. Nika—older, always curious, coat full of pockets and stories.
“Not hiding,” Aeris said. “Just thinking.”
“You always thinking?”
“Usually.”
Nika smiled. “Fair. You’re sharper than you act. You should sit with us sometime.”
“I have a table,” Aeris said, nodding toward the cafeteria where Sera waved wildly from behind the glass.
“Looks like you’ve got good people.” Nika gave a casual salute. “Keep them close. This place likes to pretend it’s safe. But it’s not. Not really.”
Then she was gone.
Aeris sat down next to Sera and Tavi. Lunch was warm stew, hard bread, and something pretending to be green fruit.
Sera leaned in. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” Tavi said, “but that’s normal here.”
On the wall, a red line of text scrolled:
LOCKDOWN DRILL – SECOND BELL. TRUST YOUR LINE. MAINTAIN ORDER.
The bell rang. Everyone stood in practiced unison. Jackets zipped. Scanners checked. Lines formed.
Aeris stepped into her place in line. Sera ahead. Tavi behind. Rowan beside them, silent for once.
Instructor Idris moved down the hallway, calm and commanding.
“Trust your line,” he said. “Trust your breath.”
Aeris did. Or she tried. Her thoughts wandered to her mother. To her father. To the things no one talked about anymore. To the question that never left her.
What if what I am is already decided?
She walked in silence. Mask in place. Breath steady. Nothing had changed—
—but something in her already knew: it wouldn’t stay that way.