The rounds kept coming.
Marcus won. Easy. Looked bored doing it. Glanced at Alex's corner once. Then twice. Third time his jaw tightened and he stopped looking.
Scarlet won. Used the crossbow. Waved at Alex afterward. He pretended not to see.
Then the board flickered.
ROUND 14
ALEXANDER ARCHER | YEAR: 1 | AGE: 24 | MARK: BLACK | R-LEVEL: 14
LEONARDO PRINCE | YEAR: 1 | AGE: 20 | MARK: GOLD | R-LEVEL: 27
Alex's stomach did something unpleasant.
Leo. Of course. Because the universe had a sense of humor.
He pushed off the railing. Didn't look at Veronica. Didn't look at the HUD. Just walked.
The stage felt longer than usual.
Leo was already there, arms crossed, gold trim catching light, that same expression he always wore—the one that said I'm better than you and we both know it.
"Archer." Leo called, flat. No warmth.
Alex's pole axe materialized in his hands. It felt wrong. Borrowed. Not his.
He gripped it anyway. "Leo."
Claudia's hand went up.
"Begin."
The hand dropped.
Leo moved. Spear materializing in his grip—shaft dark, tip curved like a question mark, meant for hooking and tearing. He closed the distance in three strides.
Alex brought his pole axe up.
The spear hooked around it, and yanked. The pole axe flew from his hands, clattered across the stage.
Leo's next strike caught him across the ribs. Then the legs. Then the chest.
Alex hit the ground.
"Cease." Claudia's voice called out, flat.
The score board flickered.
LEONARDO PRINCE – SCORE: 9/10
ALEXANDER ARCHER – SCORE: 1/10
The crowd blinked.
Murmurs started low, then spread.
"That was... quick."
"He usually lasts longer than that."
"What happened to him?"
"Did he even try?"
"R-14 vs R-27. What do you expect?"
But the tone was off. Confused, not mocking. Like they'd watched someone trip on flat ground and couldn't figure out why.
Leo paused too, spear still in hand, frowning at Alex like the win felt hollow.
Alex lay there for a second, then pushed himself up. He didn't look at Leo, didn't look at Claudia. He looked up. At the corner. At Veronica.
She was watching, expression unchanged.
[Curiosity: 26% → 26% —]
[Boredom: 82% → 82% —]
Nothing. Not even a flicker.
His jaw tightened. He walked off, out of the arena without looking back.
‡"‡
‡„‡
The fights kept going.
Round after round. Wins and losses. Cheers and silence. The machine kept grinding without him. Most of the arena barely noticed he was gone. Why would they? Just another Black Mark losing early and slinking off. Happened every week.
Alex was in the Quiet Room.
Had been for thirty minutes now. Same dummy, same pole axe, same flickering display. He'd lost count of how many times he'd swung.
DAMAGE: 6/100
Swing.
4/100
Swing.
3/100
Swing.
5/100
His arms ached. His ribs screamed. His jaw was so tight it might crack.
Swing.
4/100
Swing.
6/100
Swing.
The dummy didn't care. The numbers didn't care. Nothing cared.
He raised the pole axe one more time—
"You're going to break that."
Alex froze. He didn't turn around.
Footsteps approached, not toward him—toward the bench. The same bench she always sat on. No tablet this time, just... sitting. Watching.
He finally glanced at the HUD.
[EMOTIONAL MATRIX — UPDATING — ANCHOR WITHIN RANGE]
He hadn't even noticed it pop up. Had been too deep in his own head to see. He caught his breath, lowered the pole axe, and turned to face her.
Veronica was on the bench. Arms folded. Red eyes on him. Waiting.
[Curiosity: 26% → 36% ↑]
[Boredom: 86% → 78% ↓]
Alex stared at her for a second, then he looked away. His grip on the pole axe was a bit tighter now.
"Why are you here?"
A pause.
[Cognitive Engagement: 13% → 35% ↑]
Then she spoke. Flat. Unhurried.
"Clause Four."
He let out a breath. Not quite a laugh. Not quite a sigh.
"Right. Forgot."
He turned back to the dummy, raising the pole axe like he actually meant to hit something.
"I'd tell you to leave if I could."
He swung.
DAMAGE: 5/100
Another swing.
6/100
Another.
4/100
"You're upset." Her voice came from the bench.
He stopped. Didn't turn around. "Observant."
"It's written all over your face."
He turned now, looking at her.
Veronica was still on the bench, still watching, still waiting, like she had all the time in the world.
[Curiosity: 35% → 38% ↑]
"Why do you care?" Alex finally breathed out.
[Cognitive Engagement: 38% → 42% ↑]
Another pause. Like she was actually thinking about it, then:
"My fight ended after a minute."
Alex blinked. "...What?"
"You said to make my fights last longer."
Alex opened his mouth. Closed it. Rubbed the back of his neck.
"I... that's not what I—" He exhaled. "What did you score?"
"Ten."
"Of course."
[Curiosity: 38% → 40% ↑]
[Boredom: 78% → 74% ↓]
She tilted her head, just slightly.
"You didn't use your scythe. Why?"
Alex looked away. He gripped the pole axe tighter.
"Didn't feel like it."
Silence.
He stared at the dummy. She stared at him. The numbers flickered at the edge of his vision, but he wasn't really seeing them anymore.
Finally, he turned.
"Veraphilia."
[Curiosity: 40% → 82% ↑]
[Contempt: 80% → 79% ↓]
[Boredom: 74% → 60% ↓]
[Cognitive Engagement: 35% → 60% ↑]
[Volatility: 5% → 10% ↑]
[Control: 100% → 99%]
Her name felt weird in his mouth. Too formal. Too intimate. He wasn't sure which.
She didn't move. Didn't blink. Just stared at him with those red eyes—and for the first time, they looked almost... human. Like there was something behind them that wasn't boredom or contempt or ancient indifference.
Just a girl. For a second.
Then it was gone.
He had no idea what he'd just done, but she was still watching him. Still waiting. Still there.
So he kept going.
"I know I already asked. And you... watched." He rubbed the back of his neck. "But I mean, actually teach me. Not just tips. Not just watching. Real training. Every day. Until I stop being... this."
He met her eyes.
"Help me be more than this."
She stared at him for a long moment. Then—
[Volatility: 10% → 6% ↓]
[Control: 99% → 100% ↑]
[Contempt: 79% → 78% ↓]
[Cognitive Engagement: 60% → 62% ↑]
"Fine." Flat. Unhurried. Like she was agreeing to a mildly inconvenient request. "But don't waste my time."
Alex froze. "...You're really—?"
She stood, walked toward the door. "Bring the crystals tomorrow after classes are over. Same place. Don't be late."
She paused at the door, then looked back.
"Alexander."
He met her eyes.
"Don't call me that again."
The door slid shut behind her.
Alex blinked. "...Call you what?"
He stood there, pole axe in hand, staring at the empty space where she'd been.
The numbers were still there, settled, calm. Then one by one, they started greying out. Curiosity. Contempt. Amusement. All of them fading to neutral, tucked away like the system knew she was gone.
[METASENSE SYSTEM — ONLINE]
He had no idea what just happened, but she'd said yes.
And for the first time in his life, the future didn't feel like a dead end.
‡«»‡