Victor found Caleb in the training yard the next morning, throwing punches at a padded post like it had personally wronged him. Sweat had already soaked through the collar of his shirt, and the post itself looked like it had seen better decades.
"You look like a man with a plan," Caleb said, not breaking rhythm.
"I need to get back into the forest."
Caleb's fist stopped mid-swing. "The academy sealed that passage yesterday. There's a whole notice about it. Big red letters."
"Not the passage. Just the forest. Green Zone, maybe Yellow if we're careful."
"Why?"
Victor held up his hand, the one that had cracked open a Drak core less than twelve hours earlier. There was nothing to see anymore, no mark, no lingering glow, but Caleb's eyes narrowed anyway, like he could sense something had changed even without proof.
"You did something," Caleb said slowly.
"I got stronger."
"How much stronger?"
"Enough to notice. Not enough to matter yet."
