Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

Haviing made the immediate decision to activate his eyes power he went to do it, he activated his God’s Eyes.

The world shifted. Colors deepened, outlines sharpened. He saw the residual prana in the air, faint trails left by those who had entered and left. The investigators. Elara. The healers. He filtered them out, looking for something older, something that did not belong.

There.

It was thin, almost invisible, like a snapped thread floating in the air near the center of the room. It glowed faintly, a pale silver that was already fading, dissolving into the ambient energy like smoke in the wind. By tomorrow evening, it would be gone.

Nero stepped closer, his eyes fixed on the thread. It was not natural. It was not accidental. Someone had been here, someone who had left no physical trace, no footprints, no fingerprints. Only this. A residual thread, a remnant of something he could not yet name.

His expression hardened. Elara watched him from the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself.

”You found something,” she said. It was not a question.

Nero turned to face her. His red eyes were still active, and she flinched slightly at their intensity. He let them fade back to blue.

”I need more clues,” he said. ”I won’t give a final verdict until I have them.”

She nodded, her lips pressed together. She wanted to ask more, he could see it. But she held back.

He excused himself and left the room, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

°°°

The club room was warm when he returned, the afternoon light slanting through the windows. Lux was there, reading a book on light theory, his brow furrowed in concentration. Adam sat across from him, a handheld game console in his hands, his thumbs moving rapidly. Blake lay on the couch, earbuds in his ears, his eyes closed, but he was not sleeping. His foot tapped in rhythm with the music.

Khione sat at the table, her phone in her hand, scrolling through something. She looked up as Nero entered, her eyes questioning. He gave a small shake of his head. Not here. She nodded and looked back at her phone.

The others returned over the next hour. Lux had found nothing in the records—no other unexplained deaths in the past five years. Adam had spoken to the guards, who had seen nothing unusual on the night Liana died. Blake had visited the infirmary, but the healers had been tight-lipped, citing privacy regulations. He had learned only that the body showed no external injuries and no signs of poison.

They gathered around the table. Nero waited until the door was closed, until the room was secure.

”I found something,” he said.

He described the thread, the faint residual energy, the way it was already fading. He did not explain how he had seen it. Lux and Adam exchanged glances but did not ask. Blake sat up, his eyes sharp. Khione alone understood. Her gaze met Nero’s, and she gave a small nod.

”It’s not a suicide,” Nero said. ”Someone was in that room. Someone with power we don’t yet understand.”

”So what do we do?” Blake asked. His voice was unusually alert, the lazy drawl gone.

Nero looked at each of them in turn. ”We need to see the body. Tonight. The morgue.”

Silence. Lux’s grin spread slowly across his face. ”Break into the morgue? I like it.”

Adam set down his game console. ”Finally, something interesting, creating this club was the right decision.”

Khione’s expression did not change, but her eyes narrowed slightly. Blake rubbed his face with both hands, sighed, and nodded.

”Fine. But I’m not touching anything.”

The plan was simple. The morgue was in the basement of the infirmary, accessible through a stairwell at the back of the building. The doors were locked, but Lux could handle locks with his light, and Adam could handle doors with his earth. Security was minimal—the academy did not expect students to break into the dead room.

They would go late, after curfew, when the halls were empty and the guards were few. They would wear dark clothes, move in silence, and be in and out before anyone noticed.

Until then, they had hours to wait.

The club room settled into a comfortable stillness. Lux returned to his book, his lips moving silently as he read. Adam picked up his game console again, the soft clicks of buttons filling the air. Blake lay back on the couch, his earbuds in, his eyes closed, but his foot still tapped.

Khione pulled out her phone and began to play a puzzle game, her movements precise, her focus absolute. Nero sat across from her, watching her for a moment, then pulled out his own phone. He scrolled through the news, then through his messages, then through nothing at all, his mind turning over the thread, the residual energy, the mystery of a girl who had died with no wounds and no poison.

The sun moved across the window. The shadows lengthened. The room grew dim, and Lux rose to turn on the lamps. The light was soft, golden, casting long shapes on the walls.

They ate a simple dinner together—bread and cheese and fruit, shared from a basket Adam had brought. They did not speak much. They did not need to. The quiet was comfortable, companionable, the quiet of friends who had fought together, trained together, trusted each other with their lives.

As the evening deepened, they prepared. Dark clothes. Soft shoes. Small tools that might be useful—a lockpick from Lux, a small crystal from Adam that could darken a room, a vial of a sleeping draft from Blake that he claimed he had never used.

Nero wore his monkey mask. The others did the same. For a moment, they stood in the dim room, five masked figures, their eyes visible through the holes in the wood.

”Ready?” Nero asked.

Lux nodded. Adam cracked his knuckles. Blake sighed. Khione adjusted her fox mask and stepped to the door.

They slipped into the corridor, silent as shadows, and made their way toward the morgue.