Re-Awakened :I Ascend as an SSS-Ranked Dragon Summoner

Like he planned, he went straight to bath. The hot water washed away the blood but not the ache as Noah stood under the shower, letting his mind process the encounter with the Rowes. His body was already healing—faster than any normal human should—but he deliberately avoided focusing on that particular secret.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, a cloud of steam following him, he found Kelvin exactly as expected—hunched over multiple screens in what looked like a mission control center rather than a tournament accommodation.

"Dude, why does our room look like you're planning a heist?" Noah asked, toweling his hair.

Kelvin didn't look up, his fingers dancing across virtual keyboards projected onto the desk surface. Six different displays hovered in the air around him, each showing different data streams that made Noah's eyes hurt just glancing at them.

"Because I technically am? Sort of? Academy Six's security protocols are laughably outdated. It's like they're inviting someone to—" Kelvin finally turned, his sentence cutting off as he noticed Noah's bruised torso. "Holy crap, you look like modern art. The painful kind. But damn the rate at which you regenerate is kind of insane,"

"Thanks," Noah deadpanned, grabbing a shirt from his bag. "Listen, something happened after the match."

"Yeah, you became the Academy badass overnight. 'Zombie Boy' is trending on six different platforms." Kelvin spun back to his screens, swiping one aside to reveal social media metrics. "Some girl from Academy Three is selling t-shirts already. I ordered us five." He said clearly joking.

"I ran into Lila's parents."

The rhythmic tapping of Kelvin's fingers stopped instantly. He slowly swiveled his chair around, eyes wide as dinner plates behind his glasses.

"You... what?"

Noah pulled the metallic card from his pocket, tossing it onto Kelvin's desk. "They want to meet. Private conversation. One hour."

Kelvin stared at the card like it might explode, then jumped to his feet so quickly he knocked over his chair.

"ARE YOU INSANE?" he practically shrieked, hands flying to his hair. "The Rowes? As in Marcus and Elise Rowe? As in the people we've been investigating for potential connections to The Purge? As in the parents of your psychotic blonde side-piece who may or may not be planning to blow up this entire facility?"

"She's not my side-piece," Noah corrected automatically.

"THAT'S what you're focusing on right now?" Kelvin's voice cracked as he paced a frantic circle. "Noah, these people are basically aristocratic supervillains! They have political connections, military ties, and enough money to make problems disappear—specifically people-shaped problems named Noah Eclipse!"

Noah sat on his bed, wincing slightly as his bruised ribs protested. "They mentioned Lila. They know we're... connected."

"Connected? CONNECTED?" Kelvin threw his hands up dramatically. "That's like saying a detonator is 'connected' to an explosive! You're sleeping with their daughter while dating Sophie, AND their daughter told you they might be terrorist sympathizers planning to attack the Nexus Arena—which, fun reminder, IS WHERE WE CURRENTLY ARE!"

"When you put it that way, it does sound complicated," Noah admitted.

"Complicated? COMPLICATED?!" Kelvin's voice had reached a pitch only dogs should hear. "The quantum entanglement equations I solved in my last year of elementary school semester were 'complicated.' This is a CATASTROPHE in progress!"

He dropped to his knees in front of his fallen chair, grabbed it, then collapsed into it, wheeling himself back to his command center of screens.

"Okay, okay. We need intel. We need a plan. We need possibly an evacuation strategy. We need—" his fingers flew across the keyboard, "—to figure out what room 712 in the East Tower actually is."

Noah raised an eyebrow. "It's probably just a room."

"There is no 'just a room' when it comes to the Rowes," Kelvin muttered, his screens flickering with building schematics. "For all we know, room 712 could be code for 'the place where we dissolve problematic teenage boys in acid.'"

"I think you're overreacting."

"And I think you're UNDER-reacting!" Kelvin spun back to face him. "Noah, these people could have figured out that Lila told you about their Purge connections. What if this is a trap? What if they're planning to eliminate the loose end? What if they already know about your... you know," he lowered his voice unnecessarily, "your special abilities?"

Noah considered this, then shook his head. "If they knew everything, they wouldn't need to talk. They'd have already made a move."

"Unless the move IS getting you alone in room 712!" Kelvin slapped his forehead. "It's like watching a horror movie where the protagonist decides to investigate the creepy noise in the basement. BY HIMSELF. AT NIGHT."

"So what's your suggestion?" Noah asked calmly. "Ignore them? The Rowes don't strike me as people who take rejection well."

Kelvin's frenetic energy suddenly focused, his expression turning serious. "Wire. You wear a wire." He dug through one of his many equipment cases, producing a small, nearly invisible earpiece. "I can monitor everything remotely. They say anything sketchy, you give the code word, I alert security."

"What's the code word?"

"'Wow, I sure am about to be murdered by my girlfriend's terrorist parents.' Clear enough?" Kelvin suggested with a manic grin.

Noah gave him a flat look.

"Fine, fine. How about 'fascinating'? You never say that word normally."

"Fair enough."

Kelvin resumed his typing, multiple windows opening across his displays. "I'm pulling everything we have on the Rowes. Property records, financial transactions, political donations..." He paused, eyes widening at something on the screen. "Huh, that's weird."

"What?"

"According to this, the Rowes made a substantial donation to the Academy Nexus Foundation last year—specifically earmarked for 'security enhancements.'" He adjusted his glasses. "Why would potential terrorists fund security for the place they're planning to attack?"

Noah frowned. "Maybe their connection to The Purge isn't what we thought."

"Or maybe," Kelvin said, lowering his voice dramatically, "it's even worse than we imagined. What if they're not just supporters? What if the Rowes ARE The Purge?"

Noah checked the time. "I've got twenty minutes to decide whether I'm going."

"Oh, you're absolutely not going," Kelvin declared, standing up again. "Not without backup."

"I thought you were terrified of them."

"I am! That's why I'll be monitoring from a safe distance of exactly..." he looked at the building schematics, "three floors down in the maintenance corridor with access to the building's security feed." He tapped his ear. "Two-way communication the whole time."

Noah nodded slowly. "So I AM going."

"Of course you're going!" Kelvin threw his hands up again. "When have you ever listened to me about potential death scenarios? You fought the Harbingers on Cannadah with a pocket knife! Your self-preservation instinct is practically non-existent!"

"It was the Eclipse blade, not a pocket knife," Noah corrected.

"NOT THE POINT!" Kelvin collapsed dramatically back into his chair. "If Sophie finds out about this, she's going to kill me. And if Lila finds out you're meeting her parents without telling her, SHE'S going to kill you. Then Sophie will kill what's left of you. Then I'll have to explain to Commander Owen why his two best first-years are dead and I'll get expelled and have to live in my father's laundry man's basement programming dating apps for lonely AIs!"

Noah stood, stretching carefully to test his healing injuries. "So we don't tell them. Not until we know what the Rowes want."

"Great plan. Secrets upon secrets. What could possibly go wrong?" Kelvin muttered, returning to his equipment case to prepare the surveillance gear. "Just promise me one thing?"

"What?"

"If they offer you tea, don't drink it. Or food. Or breathe too deeply. Actually, maybe hold your breath the entire time."

Noah smirked despite himself. "I'll keep that in mind."

"And if they start talking about 'joining the family business,' run. Just run." Kelvin adjusted his glasses nervously. "Because I'm pretty sure the family business involves either world domination or human extinction. Possibly both."

Noah picked up the metallic card, turning it over in his fingers. "I guess we'll find out soon enough."

----

Noah approached Room 712 with measured steps, each footfall deliberately silent despite the polished marble floors of the East Tower.

'Two cameras in the last hallway. Motion sensors disguised as decorative trim. Reinforced door frames despite the antique appearance.'

"Can you hear me?" Kelvin's voice crackled in his ear, slightly distorted.

Noah gave a subtle nod, knowing his friend was watching through hijacked security feeds.

"Great! I'm three floors down in what's supposedly a maintenance corridor but looks more like a set from a dystopian movie. There are pipes labeled 'Biohazard.' PIPES, Noah. What kind of arena has BIOHAZARD PIPES?"

Noah resisted the urge to respond verbally as he reached room 712. No visible security beyond the standard electronic lock. He raised his hand to knock, but the door swung open before his knuckles made contact.

"Creepy door opening before you knock? Classic villain move," Kelvin whispered in his ear.

The room beyond was a spacious suite with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Nexus Arena complex. Tasteful furniture in muted tones, fresh flowers in crystal vases, and a distinct absence of personal touches—clearly not where the Rowes actually stayed, but a space secured for this meeting.

Elise Rowe stood by the window, silhouetted against the arena lights. She wore the same elegant navy dress as before, her posture perfect as she turned to face him. Something about her reminded Noah of a predator—relaxed but ready, the appearance of calm masking lethal capability.

"Mr. Eclipse," she acknowledged with a slight nod. "Please, come in."

Noah stepped inside, eyes methodically scanning the room—exits, potential weapons, surveillance. Two additional doors—likely bedroom and bathroom. No immediate signs of Marcus Rowe.

"Your husband won't be joining us?" Noah asked, remaining near the door.

"Marcus had other matters to attend to," Elise replied smoothly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "But I assure you, one Rowe is quite sufficient for our discussion."

Noah's gaze continued its subtle sweep of the environment—noting the slight bulge in the decorative wall panel that likely hid security equipment, the way the table was positioned to keep any visitor with their back to the door, the fact that Elise had chosen to stand rather than sit despite the available seating.

"Assessing entry points, defensive positions, and potential threats," Elise observed with a hint of approval. "Perhaps Academy Twelve does teach its cadets well after all. It's a shame my daughter couldn't focus on her purpose there with similar dedication."

Noah kept his expression neutral, but his mind raced. Lila's "purpose" at Academy Twelve—intelligence gathering and espionage—was something he'd pieced together over time, but hearing her mother reference it so casually confirmed his suspicions.

For his part, though, Noah maintained his cover. He knew nothing about The Purge in this room. Nothing about terrorist plots or Nexus Arena attacks. He was just a cadet who'd won an unexpected fight and happened to be involved with a complicated girl from a powerful family.

"Please, sit," Elise gestured to the seating area where a tea service had been arranged on a low table. "Would you care for refreshment after your match? You must be... depleted."

Noah hesitated, and Kelvin's voice immediately hissed in his ear.

"Don't. DO. IT. Did you not listen to ANYTHING I said? Tea with Mrs. Purge is literally how people disappear!"

Noah ignored the warning and moved toward the offered seat, deliberately choosing a different chair than the one she'd indicated—one that gave him sightlines to both the door and Elise.

"Tea?" she offered, already pouring from a delicate porcelain pot.

"Oh my god, he's actually going to drink tea with Mrs. Purge," Kelvin groaned in Noah's ear. "This is it. This is how you die. Not fighting some Category 5 monstrosity or in a blaze of glory, but poisoned by your side chick's mom in a fancy room."

Noah accepted the cup with a polite nod, making no move to drink it.

"You fought impressively today," Elise commented, pouring her own cup. "Though I suspect you held back considerably."

Noah raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"My husband and I have made something of a study of combat," she continued, her voice cultured and measured. "One develops an eye for authentic struggle versus... performance."

She sipped her tea delicately, watching him over the rim of her cup.

Noah finally lifted his own cup, ignoring Kelvin's melodramatic gasp in his ear, and took a small sip. Expensive, properly brewed, with subtle notes of something he couldn't identify. He set the cup down.

"Why am I here, Mrs. Rowe?" he asked directly.

A small smile curved Elise's lips, appreciative of his directness despite her own tendency toward verbal circling.

"He's drinking tea with Mrs. Purge right now. Actual tea. With his actual mouth," Kelvin whispered frantically in Noah's ear. "If you start feeling dizzy or numb or like your organs are liquefying, say 'fascinating' IMMEDIATELY."

Elise Rowe settled into her chair with practiced grace, crossing her legs at the ankle. She studied Noah with the cool assessment of someone accustomed to determining others' value at a glance.

"Direct. Efficient." She nodded slightly. "I appreciate that in a young man. So many of your generation mistake verbosity for intelligence."

She set her teacup down with a barely audible clink against the saucer.

"You've become... involved with my daughter," she stated simply.

Noah said nothing, waiting.

"The question, Mr. Eclipse," Elise continued, her voice taking on a sharper edge despite its cultured tone, "is whether you understand exactly what that entails."