He didn't ask for followers. He didn't start a movement. But a symbol doesn't need permission. It just needs someone to believe in it before it burns.
Scene: Mess Hall – Early Evening
The food was bland, but nobody cared.
Capricorn's resignation was still the loudest thing in the building. Cadets whispered over trays. Eyes darted. Rumors twisted into conspiracy.
"He was stealing alien tech—"
"He got framed by a rival faction—"
"I heard he wasn't even human—"
None of them mentioned the most important part.
He fell.And no one stopped it.
Rook sat alone at the corner table. Fork untouched. Eyes steady.
From this angle, he could see the entire hall without turning his head.
He wasn't watching anyone.
He was watching reactions.
Subtle flinches when his name came up.
Lingering glances when they thought he wasn't looking.
And then — a movement that didn't fit.
A girl.
Across the room. Same age. Civilian uniform.
Shoulder-length black hair. Sat alone.
No tray. No tablet.
Just a notebook. A pencil.
And every few seconds, her eyes lifted to him — quick, quiet, not challenging.
She didn't speak.
She just sketched.
Scene: After Dinner – Student Pathway
Rook waited until she left the mess hall.
Then followed.
Not directly. At a distance.
Measured.
She moved like someone used to being overlooked — small, intentional steps, always on the edge of the walkway, never in the middle.
She entered a side building used for elective art modules. Empty at this hour.
Rook stepped inside three minutes later.
The door clicked softly behind him.
She didn't turn around.
"You're not very subtle," she said.
Her voice was light. Even.
He stepped closer.
"You've been drawing me."
She nodded once.
Still didn't turn.
"I sketch everyone who's about to change something."
Rook paused.
"That's a dangerous hobby."
She finally turned.
And handed him the notebook.
The page was filled with him.
Not just posture. Not just clothing.
But expression.
Eyes like silence. Shoulders pulled like a man always preparing for war.
Beneath it, she'd written one word:
Catalyst.
He handed the notebook back.
"What's your name?"
"Callum," she said. "No last name."
"Is that a lie?"
"Does it matter?"
Rook studied her for a moment.
"You clapped."
She smiled — small, sharp.
"No. I watched who did."
He nodded once.
Turned to leave.
She called after him.
"You're not the only one starting something."
He stopped.
Looked over his shoulder.
She added softly:
"You're just the only one who's already burning."
Scene: Command Deck – Later That Night
Aya reviewed the internal camera loops from the mess hall.
Saw the girl.
Flagged her.
Sent the file to Rook with one note:
"This one sees too much."
Rook opened the file.
Stared at the sketch.
The way his own face looked on someone else's paper.
And for the first time…
He wasn't sure who was watching who.