Ares wakes once more in the medical wing.
The ceiling above him is familiar now—too clean, too quiet.
The nurse sits across from him, arms folded, watching with a faint, knowing smile.
"Quite a show you put on out there," she says.
Ares says nothing.
She continues, leaning back slightly.
"Pushing Achilles as far as you did is no easy feat. Many praise him as a great warrior… even among the strongest teachers here."
Her eyes linger on him for a moment longer than necessary.
"As for you… you've made quite the impression."
She stands.
"The Headmaster asked me to inform him the moment you woke."
A brief pause.
"I'll go let him know."
She exits.
Not long after—
the door opens again.
Ignis and Aphrodite enter.
Ignis crosses her arms, giving him a look somewhere between annoyance and relief.
"Back-to-back visits to the medical wing," she says dryly. "Impressive."
Aphrodite says nothing at first.
She walks toward him slowly.
Carefully.
Then she reaches out—
and takes his hand.
Her grip is gentle, but firm.
She smiles.
But it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"Next time…" she says softly, "…try to keep control of yourself."
There is concern in her voice.
Real concern.
Ares watches her.
For a moment—
he doesn't look away.
"I will try," he says.
It is not a promise.
But it is the closest thing he has given.
The door opens again.
The air shifts.
Zeus enters.
The Headmaster moves with quiet authority, his presence filling the room without effort. His aged features betray nothing, but his eyes… his eyes are sharp.
"I would like to speak with him alone," Zeus says.
Ignis nods immediately.
Aphrodite hesitates—
just for a moment—
then releases Ares' hand.
She looks back at him once more before leaving.
Then they are gone.
Silence settles.
Zeus studies Ares.
Not casually.
Not curiously.
Like a man examining something dangerous.
Something familiar.
"You will be placed in Class A," Zeus says at last.
"Among the strongest students in this academy."
Ares remains still.
Zeus' gaze lingers.
There is something else there now.
Something heavier.
Disappointment.
He turns to leave.
Then, quietly—
almost too quietly—
he speaks.
"I hope you have changed this time."
The words are soft.
But they land.
Ares hears them.
He doesn't understand them.
But he does not ask.
…
Later—
Ares sits in the cafeteria with Ignis and Aphrodite.
The space is loud, filled with voices, movement, the clatter of dishes.
But beneath it—
he hears everything.
Ignis speaks, explaining the structure of the academy.
"The school operates differently than most," she says. "Students are sent on expeditions—new lands, ancient sites, dangerous territories."
Aphrodite nods, adding softly, "Places most people wouldn't dare go."
Ignis continues, "Class A students are usually allowed to go alone. Lower classes move in groups—typically three."
She glances at them both.
"But rank doesn't matter when forming groups."
Aphrodite smiles slightly.
"That means we can stay together."
Ares says nothing.
But his attention shifts.
He hears the whispers.
Not just about him—
but about her.
"She's beautiful—"
"Who is she—?"
"Is she really in B Class—?"
Then—
his name.
"That's him—"
"The one who fought Achilles—"
"He pushed him back—"
"No way…"
Ignis keeps talking.
"Teachers assign missions and grade performance. It's not just survival—it's evaluation. Strategy, control, adaptability."
She pauses.
"There are also competitive matches. Students can move up between classes based on performance."
Ares listens.
But only partially.
He is aware of the attention.
All of it.
Afterward—
they head to the dormitories.
The buildings are separated.
Male and female.
"You'll likely have a roommate," Ignis mentions.
Ares says nothing.
He arrives at his room.
He opens the door.
Inside—
a simple space.
A bunk bed.
A desk.
Minimal decoration.
At the desk sits a boy.
He looks fragile.
Curly hair.
Glasses.
Thin frame.
He turns—
and sees Ares.
For a moment—
he freezes.
What he sees is not just a person.
He sees the rumors.
A pale, gaunt man.
Long dark hair.
Hollow features.
Something closer to a corpse than a student.
And someone who might be—
one of the strongest in Class A.
The boy swallows.
Then quickly stands, forcing composure.
He steps forward, offering a hand.
"My name is Odyssey," he says, trying to sound steady. "Nice to meet you."
Ares looks at him.
Then walks past him.
He says nothing.
He climbs onto the bunk—
And lies down.
Within moments—
he passes out.
Leaving Odyssey standing there—
hand still slightly raised—
uncertain whether to be relieved…
or afraid