The track was already alive when they arrived.
Jordan Hale stood near the inner lane with a stopwatch around her neck, barking times and corrections like she'd been born doing it. Runners snapped into motion the instant she spoke. No arguments. No delay. Captain wasn't a title here, it was a fact of gravity.
Alex slowed beside Magnus. "Stay calm," she said under her breath. "Let me handle this."
He nodded, hands in his pockets, doing his best not to look like he was about to walk into a firing line.
Alex raised her voice. "Jordan!"
Jordan looked up.
Her gaze flicked from Alex to Magnus and back again, a faint frown tugging at her mouth. She said something short to the nearest runner, then stepped off the track and walked toward them — not all the way, stopping halfway like she'd measured the distance and decided that was enough.
Alex didn't comment. She just stepped forward.
"Hey," she said. "Got a minute?"
Jordan's eyes never left her. "What do you want, Locke?"
Alex stiffened.
Not visibly — not in any way a stranger would catch — but Magnus felt it all the same. Her shoulders went tight. She drew a slow breath through her nose before answering.
"I'm calling in the favor you owe me," Alex said. "I want you to train him."
Jordan's eyes slid back to Magnus, this time more openly. She looked him up and down without shame or subtlety, like she was inventorying a piece of equipment. "Is he the 'no one' who got you pissed last month?"
"Physically," Alex ignored her question and added flatly. "Get him in better shape."
Jordan let out a short laugh. "What, he not satisfying you in bed or something?"
Magnus opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again.
Alex's patience thinned. "You gonna do it or not?"
Jordan huffed, rolling her shoulders like she was loosening up for a sprint. "Fine! Five A.M. sharp. Tomorrow. Here." Her gaze cut back to Magnus. "And I won't take it easy on you, Raccoon Boy!"
He blinked. "Five A.M?"
Jordan was already turning away. "Don't be late!"
Alex didn't respond. She just nodded once and turned, already walking. Magnus followed, heart still thudding harder than it should have. They'd gone half a block before he spoke.
"So, uh…" He hesitated. "Locke?"
Alex's jaw tightened.
She exhaled slowly. "Remember how I said Jordan and I have known each other our whole lives?"
"Yeah."
"Just like 'Vanessa' is her forbidden name," she said, "Locke is mine."
She didn't stop walking. "It's my dad's last name. Reyes is my mom's maiden name. She had both of ours legally changed back years ago." A pause. "Mom and I don't… have the best relationship with my dad's side of the family. Not since he died."
Magnus absorbed that quietly, something warm and unexpected stirring. "Yeah, I can kinda get that."
She glanced back at him, surprised. "You can?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Single mom. Never met my dad. Don't even know his last name, actually."
That earned him a look — not pity, nor shock — but understanding. A softening behind her eyes. Then she nodded once.
They walked the rest of the way in silence — not awkward, nor heavy silence. Shared.
Somewhere behind them, a whistle blew and Jordan Hale's voice cut through the air again, sharp and commanding. And Magnus had the distinct feeling that five A.M. tomorrow was going to hurt.
***
Later that evening, Magnus found Tony near the dumpsters behind the dorm, rummaging with the intensity of a scholar mid-research.
"Tony," Magnus said, rubbing the back of his neck. "We need to shift training a bit earlier."
Tony froze.
Slowly, he turned, one paw still inside a trash bag like he'd been caught mid-ritual.
"Earlier," Tony echoed gravely. "Earlier than the sacred hour of moon-snacks?"
"Yeah," Magnus said. "I've got to be up by five A.M. to meet with someone."
Tony's eyes narrowed. "Five… A.M." He tasted the words like they might be poisoned, before going very still.
Not suspicious. Nor annoyed.
Just… calculating.
"Five…" he repeated.
His head tilted slightly, like he was measuring something invisible in the air.
"…A.M.," Tony added after a beat.
Another pause.
Then his ears perked.
"Ah," he said, suddenly satisfied. "Dawn!"
His eyes narrowed as he looked back to Magnus, then he sniffed the air and, unexpectedly, nodded. "Acceptable. Dawn is honest! Cruel, but honest."
Magnus blinked. "You're… okay with that?"
Tony climbed fully out of the bin and began pacing in a small, thoughtful circle.
"You have traded night-chaos for morning-discipline," he said. "This is growth! Painful growth. Like molting, but without the fun itch."
Magnus relaxed a little. "Good. I was worried you'd—"
"And," Tony continued, cutting him off, "you have clearly distanced yourself from the bad influence."
Magnus stiffened. "…What?"
Tony waved a paw dismissively. "The tall human. Sharp tongue. Excessive confidence. Smells like trouble and expensive shampoo."
"…Alex?"
"Yes," Tony said firmly. "She distracts you from the path. Laughing. Comfort. Emotional stability. Very dangerous!"
Magnus stared. "I'm not leaving Alex!"
Tony paused. Actually paused.
Then his shoulders slumped just a little. "Ah," he said, disappointed. "A pity! I had hoped the new influence would replace her."
Magnus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tony, I'm not switching girlfriends like workout routines."
Tony considered this. "Humans are strange. You hoard relationships like you hoard Pizzas."
"Who's the 'good influence,' then?" Magnus asked warily.
Tony's eyes gleamed. "The fast one. The angry runner. Smells like sweat and vengeance."
"…Jordan?" Magnus frowned. "Wait! How do you even know who I'm meeting?"
Tony gave him a look of deep, offended pity.
"Please," he said. "I can smell her on you!"
Magnus grimaced. "That's not reassuring."
"She leaves a trail," Tony continued, nodding sagely. "Adrenaline. Rubber track dust. Old rivalry and unspent fury. Very distinct! Like lightning trapped in shoes."
"…You're saying I picked that up just by standing near her?"
Tony shrugged. "Humans leak. You leak more when stressed."
"That's…" Magnus stopped. "…Actually fair."
Tony hopped back onto the dumpster lid, tail flicking with renewed energy. "I shall accompany you!"
Magnus frowned. "To her training?"
"Yes," Tony said, already nodding. "I must observe. Evaluate. Ensure she does not break you beyond usefulness."
"That's… reassuring."
Tony tilted his head. "Also, she might drop snacks."
Magnus sighed. "Of course."
Tony settled in, eyes half-lidded, satisfied. "Dawn, then! Sweat. Suffering." He smiled, small and feral. "Good things!"
Magnus wasn't sure whether to feel supported or doomed.
Probably both.
***
Alex came to his room that night, insisting on seeing him off in the morning.
They didn't do much beyond kissing and cuddling. Magnus needed to be up early, and Alex — on her period and clearly feeling it — didn't push nor tease. They lay there instead, limbs tangled, the quiet stretching comfortably between them until sleep finally won.
When the alarm went off at 4:15, Alex groaned and swore under her breath.
"She's doing this on purpose," she muttered, rolling over. "This is psychological warfare!"
Magnus didn't disagree. He barely trusted himself to speak.
They split up at the dorm entrance — Alex heading back to her building, Magnus toward the long walk to the stadium. The campus was still half-asleep, lamplight pooling on empty paths.
Alex stopped him before he could go. She leaned in, kissed him quickly, then pulled back just enough to look him dead in the eye.
"Oh. One last thing," she said. "This should be obvious, but don't ever — and I mean EVER — call her Vanessa! Not if someone's putting a gun to your head. Not even if you're drugged, hypnotized, or possessed by a demon. I'm the only one who can get away with that and only earn an irritated scoff. The last person to call her by her first name almost ended up in the hospital!"
Magnus stared at her.
"…You're telling me this now?" he said faintly. "Right before you send me to her? Do you think I'm not nervous enough already?"
Alex had the audacity to snicker.
"Babe," she said, squeezing his hand, "you'll be fine! Just be yourself. She'll warm up to you in no time."
Silence.
Then, very quietly, Magnus said, "Uh, Alex… I don't know if this is a good time to bring this up, but there's a Chinese proverb. I don't remember the exact wording, but it's something like… 'you see the one you love through a lens of beauty and competence.' Basically their version of 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder' and 'love makes you blind.'"
He hesitated, then added, "And while I'm really flattered that you love me that much — really, I am! — I think you're seriously overestimating my capabilities."
Alex blinked.
"Okay. First of all," she said slowly, "Chinese proverb?"
Magnus shrugged. "I looked into that stuff when I was a kid. Trying to figure out which kind of Asian my dad was." He paused. "Gave up when it led nowhere. And when my mom started looking sad about it. But some of the knowledge stuck."
A brief, quiet moment passed between them — acknowledgment without commentary.
Alex cleared her throat.
"Anyway," she said, "I'm not overestimating you. I just see sides of you that you don't."
"That's my point," Magnus said, exasperated. "I've known me for twenty years. You've known me for a month. Anything you see that I don't is probably your imagination!"
Alex rolled her eyes so hard it was almost audible.
"Trust me," she said. "I'm not imagining anything! You just have a blind spot the size of a minivan when it comes to yourself."
Magnus seriously doubted that. But he didn't want to argue and risk being late — or worse — so he nodded, swallowing down the nerves threatening to climb his throat.
Alex patted his shoulder. "Now go charm her socks off!"
***
Magnus arrived at the track three minutes late.
Not almost late. Not even barely scraping in.
Late enough that Jordan Hale noticed the instant he stepped onto the field.
She was already there, standing with her arms crossed near the bleachers, posture relaxed in the way only meant nothing was. The early morning light hadn't softened her expression at all.
Magnus slowed to a stop a few feet away, hands on his knees, chest heaving. His lungs burned like he'd sprinted the last stretch — except he shouldn't have had to. He'd paced himself. He always paced himself.
Yet somehow, he was already exhausted.
Jordan glanced at her watch. Then at him.
"…You're late," she said flatly.
She didn't ask why.
Magnus opened his mouth anyway, then closed it. He frowned, genuinely confused. He'd woken up early. Earlier than he needed to. He remembered checking the time. Remembered leaving with plenty of buffer.
And then all he remembered was worrying about making a bad first impression after what Alex had said, and rushing here trying not to be late.
"I—" he started, then stopped, shaking his head. "Sorry, I don't know how I'm late!"
Jordan studied him for half a second longer, eyes sharp, searching for something — an excuse, a lie, a crack. Finding none, she clicked her tongue.
"Stretch," she said, already turning away. "You're wasting daylight, Chane."
No lecture. No warning.
That somehow made it worse.
The warm-up alone nearly finished him.
Jordan led without slowing, calling out motions with clipped precision, correcting his posture with a toe nudged against his ankle or a sharp "Don't lock your knees." Every stretch pulled at muscles Magnus hadn't realized were tight. By the time they transitioned into actual drills — sprints, bodyweight exercises, explosive movements — his shirt clung damply to his back.
Pain settled in fast. Deep. Earned.
Somewhere between gasping breaths and shaking legs, his HUD flickered.
[Daily Quest Progress Updated]
Magnus blinked, startled, and then nearly laughed as relief cut through the burn.
Oh. Thank God!
At least this counted.
Tony watched from the edge of the track, perched atop a low fence like he owned the place. He paced back and forth as Magnus dropped into planks, tail flicking.
"Your arms are lying to you," Tony said gravely. "They say they are straight. They are cowards."
Magnus gritted his teeth.
"Also," Tony added, sniffing, "try not to collapse where she can see your soul leave your body. Very unappealing!"
Jordan glanced over, eyebrow twitching, expression amused despite herself.
"Wait… the rumor about you talking to raccoons is not actually true, is it? Or is that thing really talking to you?"
"No," Magnus said automatically, then hissed as his arms shook. "I mean… maybe. Just ignore him!"
Tony puffed up. "Do not ignore wisdom simply because you do not understand it yet!"
Annoyingly, some of Tony's advice actually helped. Adjusting his stance shaved precious seconds off the drills. Timing his breathing the way Tony suggested kept him upright longer than he had any right to be.
By the end of the session, Magnus collapsed onto the grass, staring up at the pale morning sky, every muscle screaming.
Jordan looked down at him, unreadable.
She didn't offer praise.
She didn't offer mockery, either.
"Hmm," she said at last. "You didn't quit."
Then she turned and walked off, already pulling her phone out.
The HUD flickered again. Jordan's Interest ticked up to 5%.
Magnus exhaled, half-laughing despite himself.
Tony leaned over his face, eyes bright.
"See?" he said smugly. "Pain builds character. And fear. Mostly fear."
Magnus closed his eyes. "This is going to kill me!"
Tony considered that.
"…Eventually," he said. "But not before tomorrow. You still smell like dawn."