The fight ended with dust still hanging in the air.
Max stood barely upright in the centre of the arena, chest heaving, wooden sword cracked down the centre, needles scattered across the sand like fallen thorns. Ned lay on his back a few feet away, one Sai warped and misshaped, the other embedded point-first in the ground where Max had pinned it with telekinesis.
Silence held for half a heartbeat.
Then Sergeant John Smith's voice cut through the yard.
"Enough."
The word landed like a hammer.
Max swayed but Elena caught him before he could fall.
Ned spat blood into the sand and laughed weakly.
Max didn't take notice.
He didn't need to.
Smith stepping in to the circle, earth still faintly unsettled beneath his boots from the earlier surges of Ned's ability. His eyes moved from one to the other.
"Clear winner," he said. "Max."
No theatrics. No applause.
Just fact.
Billy watched from the edge of the yard.
And smiled.
By the time most cadets dispersed for midday meal, the tension hadn't faded.
It had sharpened.
Elena reached Max first as she helped him out of the circle.
"You pleb," she muttered, catching him before he tipped sideways. "You absolute pleb."
Max tried to grin. "Won."
"Barely."
Scarlett appeared on his other side. "You look like shit."
"Encouraging," Max breathed.
Finn clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "That was actually impressive. You nearly died three times."
"Four," Scarlett corrected.
"Right. Four."
Sergeant Smith's voice echoed across the yard. "Infirmary. Now. And try not to bleed on my training ground."
Max did not argue.
They began moving toward the inner corridors.
Behind them, Billy did not move at once.
He waited.
Until Major Grant Burton approached.
Grant stepped down from the instructor platform with measured calm.
Billy straightened slightly but did not salute.
Not fully.
Grant did not reprimand him.
"You underestimated him," Grant said quietly.
Billy's jaw tightened just enough to notice. "He won't do it again."
"I don't care about pride," Grant replied. "I care about outcomes."
Skinny drifted closer, limbs loose and lazy. "He got lucky."
Grant's eyes shifted to him.
"Luck," he said evenly, "is for amateurs."
Billy's mechanical fingers flexed once, the faint whirr of internal servos audible beneath the ambient yard noise.
"What's next?" Billy asked.
Grant studied the retreating figures of Elena's group.
"They believe today was personal," Grant said. "It wasn't."
He looked back at Billy.
"Pressure reveals structure."
Billy's grin returned slowly. "So we keep pressing."
Grant's voice lowered.
"Not in the open."
A pause.
"Break them separately."
Skinny tilted his head. "Any preference?"
Grant's gaze flicked toward the corridor Finn had just disappeared down.
"Yes."
Inside the administrative wing, Marek and Cassie reached Smith just as he exited the arena tunnel.
Smith took one look at their faces.
"This isn't about the fight," he said.
"No," Marek replied.
They moved quickly into a private chamber off the main hall, door sealing shut behind them.
Smith crossed his arms. "Speak."
Cassie didn't soften it.
"He met someone outside the wall."
Smith's expression did not change — but the air in the room did.
"Describe."
"Hooded," Marek said. "Not military."
"Eyes," Cassie added. "Yellow. Glowing."
Smith's jaw shifted slightly.
"And?"
"They exchanged something," Marek continued. "Small. Concealed."
Smith paced once across the stone floor.
"The M.C.G.?"
"Yes."
Silence.
Then:
"You're certain?"
"Yes."
Smith exhaled slowly through his nose.
"They're getting bolder."
Cassie folded her arms. "He's not hiding it well anymore."
"No," Smith corrected. "He is hiding it perfectly. We just happened to be looking."
Marek met his gaze.
"What are your orders?"
Smith's eyes hardened.
"We cannot move yet."
Cassie frowned. "He's making contact outside our walls!."
"And if we accuse him without proof?" Smith replied. "We fracture the academy. We fracture the military. And if he is aligned with the Guild, we expose ourselves before we are ready."
Silence again.
"Watch," Smith said. "Document. Quietly."
"And the cadets?" Cassie asked.
Smith's gaze drifted briefly toward the corridor where Elena's group had gone.
"They're already being tested."
The infirmary smelled of antiseptic herbs and iron.
Max lay on one of the narrow cots, shirt peeled back, ribs bruised in ugly shades of purple and red.
"He fractured at least one," the healer muttered. "You're lucky it wasn't worse."
Max coughed. "Story of my week."
Elena sat nearby, fingers laced tightly in her lap.
Scarlett paced.
Finn leaned against the doorway.
"Alright," he said finally. "I'm getting food before they serve us boiled disappointment again."
Scarlett snorted. "Get me something that isn't grey."
"Impossible request."
He pushed himself forward of the wall.
"I'll be five."
Elena nodded absently.
None of them noticed Billy watching from the far end of the corridor.
Finn moved quickly once out of sight.
Not full speed — infirmary halls were too narrow — but fast enough to clear distance.
He turned left toward the dining wing.
The corridor was empty.
Too empty.
He slowed.
A shadow stretched across the wall ahead of him.
"Going somewhere?"
Finn stopped.
Billy leaned casually against the far archway.
Skinny hung from the ceiling beam above, upside down, grinning.
Finn sighed softly. "Really?"
Billy pushed off the wall.
"You ran your mouth earlier."
Finn tilted his head. "I do that."
Billy stepped closer.
"I don't like it."
Finn shifted his stance slightly.
"Then don't listen."
Billy's smile vanished.
Time snapped.
For Finn, it felt like a blink.
For Billy, it was eternity.
He stepped forward in frozen space and grabbed Finn's wrist.
Time resumed.
There was a sickening pop.
Finn screamed.
His right arm hung wrong — shoulder dislocated cleanly.
He stumbled backward, breath shredding in his throat.
Billy caught him by the collar before he could fall.
"You think this is funny?" Billy murmured.
Finn tried to move.
He could not get the momentum.
Skinny dropped from the beam behind him, limbs stretching unnaturally long, wrapping around Finn's legs and torso like constricting rope.
"Hold still," Skinny chirped.
Finn tried to trigger his speed—
Pain flared too violently.
Billy drove a fist into his ribs.
Air vanished from his lungs.
Then Skinny's arm shifted.
A thin blade slipped from his sleeve.
"Shit," Finn rasped.
Billy's voice was almost conversational.
"Break them separately."
The blade went in.
Low.
Left side of the abdomen.
Finn's body jerked violently.
Skinny withdrew it.
Drove it in again.
And again.
Deep enough to hurt.
Billy watched Finn's eyes as it happened.
Watched understanding settle there.
"You're the easiest," Billy said quietly.
Finn sagged.
Skinny released him.
He collapsed to the stone floor, blood spreading quickly beneath him.
Billy crouched.
"If you grass," he said softly, "I'll stop time long enough to make sure none of them remember you existed."
Finn tried to breathe.
It came wet.
Billy stood.
Skinny wiped the blade casually on Finn's shirt.
"Oops," Skinny said lightly.
They walked away.
Finn tried to call out "Help!".
In the infirmary, Elena froze mid-sentence.
Scarlett turned.
"Did you hear—"
The scream reached them a second later.
Elena was already moving.
Scarlett blinked ahead in bursts of gold.
Max tried to sit up and nearly passed out.
They reached the corridor and stopped cold.
Finn lay crumpled on the floor, blood pooling beneath him, one arm twisted unnaturally.
Scarlett dropped to her knees.
"Finn— Finn—"
Elena pressed both hands to his stomach, telekinesis trembling violently around her fingers as she tried to compress the wounds.
"Get help!" she snapped.
Scarlett vanished.
Finn's eyes fluttered weakly.
"El…" he whispered.
"Don't," she said fiercely. "Don't you fucking dare."
Blood soaked through her fingers.
Footsteps thundered.
Healers arrived.
Smith appeared seconds later.
He took in the scene once.
And understood.
Not everything.
But enough.
"Who did this?" he asked quietly.
Finn's eyes rolled slightly.
He swallowed.
"Slipped," he rasped.
Scarlett reappeared, shaking with fury.
Elena's jaw locked.
Smith's gaze hardened.
He did not ask again.
But somewhere deeper in the academy—
Major Grant Burton stood at his office window.
And watched the rain fall.