After class ended, it looked like all of Class 1-D had aged twenty years.

  Sato walked out first, dark bags under his eyes like he’d just spent a week in a war bunker. His drone clicked against the ground behind him, forgotten, as he staggered forward with the haunted expression of someone leaving behind a lover.

  “I’ll come back for you,” he muttered, barely coherent.

  Mika and Zach weren’t doing much better. They moved like melted puddles of people—half-limp, half-crawling—being dragged out by Elle and Derrin, who normally held it together but now looked like survivors of emotional war crimes.

  “That. Was. Hell,” Mika groaned, her voice slightly more alive than her body as she was hauled down the hallway.

  “Am... am I alive?” Zach slurred, blinking in different directions as his brain tried to catch up.

  “Yes. Now get up,” Elle said, her tone more deadpan than usual—like her soul had filed a resignation letter mid-class.

  She and Derrin tossed the two human noodles unceremoniously onto the concrete floor of their dorm.

  Zach hit the ground with a dull thud. Mika bounced once.

  Neither of them moved after that.

  They just lay there, staring at the ceiling like they’d been hit with tranquilizer darts.

  Sato walked past them silently.

  Elle stepped over Mika without a glance.

  Derrin paused just long enough to shake his head in quiet judgment before stepping over Zach like he was debris.

  “I-I think I’m thinking in stat sheets right now,” Mika whispered, shielding her eyes with one arm like the light itself was too math-heavy to handle.

  “Shh—don’t—don’t say the word think,” Zach muttered, half-conscious, reaching out to weakly shove her shoulder. “I swear if I hear the word ‘analyze’ again, I’m gonna explode.”

  They lay there like that, unmoving. Brains scrambled. Bodies broken only by lecture and reflection.

  And for the first time since stepping into Halcyon Academy...

  They really understood what it meant to be in Class D.

  The next day arrived with all the grace of a thrown brick.

  Zach sat slumped in his chair, still sore in places that didn’t even have names. The classroom lights flickered above him like even they were reconsidering showing up. Around him, the rest of Class 1-D looked equally lifeless.

  Sato was half-asleep against his desk, mumbling code in his dreams.

  Mika was upside-down in her chair again, legs hooked over the back, arms dangling like she’d melted.

  Derrin stood quietly near the back wall, chewing on a dried fruit bar like it owed him money.

  Elle sat front and center, posture still perfect—but her eyes had that faint “if I die right now, it’s fine” glaze.

  The door creaked open.

  For one terrifying second, they all expected Ishino Haruki to appear with more dissected fight footage and an emotional gut punch waiting to land.

  Instead?

  A much younger assistant teacher stepped in, holding a clipboard and looking terrified.

  “Uh—good morning, Class 1-D,” she said, voice shaky. “Mr. Ishino is out today. He left a note.”

  She fumbled with the paper, unfolded it, and cleared her throat.

  “In his words—‘Since one of your dumbasses decided to square up with Rank Two, everyone gets to beat the hell out of him today. Line up. Take notes. Don’t break anything I can’t afford to replace.’”

  She paused, staring at the page like it might suddenly vanish.

  Then she looked up at Zach.

  Everyone did.

  Zach blinked. “...Wait, me?”

  Mika sat up instantly, eyes gleaming. “You did ask for the smoke.”

  Sato adjusted his glasses. “Statistically, this could be a valuable learning opportunity. For us.”

  Elle looked right at him. “You challenged Rank Two. Fair’s fair.”

  Zach slumped forward in his chair. “I was concussed! You can’t hold decisions made under brain trauma against me!”

  Derrin cracked his knuckles. “Let’s see if that trauma built any character.”

  The assistant teacher slowly backed toward the door. “Uh… good luck!” Click.

  Door shut.

  Zach looked around.

  Five pairs of eyes.

  All hungry.

  All smiling way too much.

  “…I regret everything.”

  The fight started with Derrin, of all people.

  Before Zach could even finish yawning, a kick slammed into his side, sending him crashing through the dorm door with a splintering crack. He barely managed to draw his wooden sword in time to absorb most of it—but not all.

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  WHAM.

  Zach tumbled out into the hallway like a flying crash dummy, back skidding across dusty tile.

  ‘Shit,’ he thought, trying to suck air back into his lungs as the world stopped spinning. He pushed up to one knee and wheezed out—

  “What the hell, man?! We could’ve waited until we got outside!”

  Derrin didn’t answer. He just stepped through the busted doorframe and casually adjusted his gloves.

  Mika’s voice called out behind him.

  “We could’ve, sure. But where’s the fun in that?”

  She darted into the hall right after Derrin, her blonde pigtails bouncing with every step. Two of Sato’s drones hovered behind her, lights blinking, already whirring into some kind of attack mode.

  “There's fun in—oh, I dunno—giving the hurt guy a break!” Zach shouted back, forcing himself to his feet.

  His ribs still screamed from the Lucien fight. His arms were sore. His back felt like someone had stored bricks in it overnight.

  But his legs still worked.

  He planted his foot and sprinted.

  Down the hall. Toward the exit.

  ‘If I wanna make this fair at all, I need to get outside. Open space. Less chance of getting boxed in.’

  Behind him, Mika’s voice rang out with cheerful menace.

  “Get his ass!”

  Zach stepped outside and barely had time to breathe before the drones fired up with a whirr-chk, their barrels spinning.

  “Really?” he muttered. “You’re starting already—”

  POP. POP. POP.

  Blunt-force training rounds tore through the air. They didn’t break skin, but they hurt—each one a meat-seeking missile designed for maximum inconvenience. Zach spun, raising his wooden sword just in time to block two—but three more slammed into his ribs and thigh.

  Thump. Whack. Crack.

  He recoiled, body twisting from the impact.

  ‘Too slow to block everything. They’re syncing shots with movement. Staggered reloads—Sato’s got them alternating fire for suppression.’

  Then he heard her.

  Mika’s boots on pavement. Fast.

  He turned just in time for a blinding right hook.

  Her arm flared with a sudden burst of light, not hot enough to burn, but enough to force his eyes shut by pure reflex.

  ‘She projected just enough to disrupt my vision. Not an attack—setup.’

  Then came the uppercut.

  CRACK.

  His jaw snapped skyward as her fist connected under his chin, lifting him off the ground and sending him stumbling backward.

  Mika landed gracefully, her cheeky grin bright and savage.

  “Sympathy? Nah,” she said. “You fought Rank Two. Consider this a class field trip.”

  Zach staggered back, heels scraping, one hand bracing against the ground as he spit dust.

  “Fuck... a little warning would’ve been nice.”

  POP. A bullet grazed his shoulder.

  ‘If they keep this combo up, I’m going straight back to the nurse.’

  But his eyes were wide open now. Focused. Tracking.

  His breath came sharp, fast, but his brain was shifting gears.

  ‘Mika leads—speed and flash. Hits like a boxer, all aggression, tight movements. Uses her Aspect like a flashbang. I have to fight her blind unless I predict her rhythm.’

  Another shot pinged off his sword. He angled it back up just in time to see Derrin approaching now—quiet, low, patient. Arms loose. Stance wide.

  ‘Derrin flanks. He’s not flashy, but he’s timing my openings. Clean. Surgical.’

  Sato kept his distance, drones repositioning above. They were adjusting on the fly.

  ‘He’s feeding them data. They’re correcting for each of my dodges. Zone control.’

  Then Elle stepped into view. Calm. No wasted motion. She didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Just watched, adjusting her approach based on his movement.

  ‘She’s waiting. Studying me the same way Ishino does. Her hit will be the clean one. She’ll strike when I commit too hard to someone else.’

  Zach ducked under another drone shot and spun away from Mika’s next hook.

  ‘Okay. I can’t outpower them. But maybe I can out-think them. I’m not here to win—I’m here to survive.’

  He launched forward suddenly—not at Mika, but toward the drones.

  His blade whipped upward, wooden edge slapping one of them clean out of the air.

  CRACK!

  Sato’s eyes widened, fingers twitching on his controller.

  “Adapted that fast?” he muttered.

  Zach grinned through the sweat. “Learned from the best.”

  Mika came in hot behind him, swinging high.

  He ducked low—not to dodge—but to drag the broken drone carcass behind him like a shield, catching two more stun bullets on its metal hull.

  Then he launched it straight at Sato’s feet.

  Sato jumped back with a shout.

  “Tactics, baby!” Zach roared.

  Then Derrin grabbed his collar and suplexed him into the dirt.

  BOOM.

  The world spun again.

  Zach groaned into the gravel. “Okay... okay, that one’s on me.”

  Derrin didn’t give him time to breathe.

  A low kick whipped toward Zach’s face—he got his wooden sword up just in time to block it, but the impact still sent him skidding backward, lifted half off the ground.

  Thud—scrape—wince.

  ‘Fuck, they’re relentless!’

  His ribs flared with pain, his vision pulsed—but he was still thinking. Still tracking every step, every movement.

  Mika was already charging again, fast and grinning, backed up by a fresh volley of blunt rounds from Sato’s drones.

  ‘Alright… I’ve got a plan.’

  He raised his sword high and swung wide, deliberately overextending. The wooden blade slammed into the ground with a heavy thunk, bouncing just enough to deflect the worst of the bullets. A few hit the blade and ricocheted. One grazed his shoulder, but it worked—mostly.

  To Mika, it looked like he’d messed up.

  “Ha! Got your ass!” she shouted, rushing in full force, light starting to crackle down her arm.

  She wound up a heavy swing—

  But the second she closed the distance, something felt off.

  Her feet weren’t on the ground.

  She blinked—and realized she was in the air.

  “Wait, wha—?”

  She looked down and saw Zach crouched, having dipped low, letting her momentum roll right off his back like a ramp. He shifted his center of gravity at the perfect moment.

  ‘Center of gravity,’ Zach thought, chest still heaving. ‘Thanks, Ishino.’

  Mika hit the dirt with a loud thump, eyes wide as she skidded to a stop.

  Before Zach could even capitalize, Elle moved in.

  She didn’t shout. Didn’t grin. Just stepped in with a flash and a sudden pop of light—barely brighter than Mika’s earlier moves, but sharp and well-timed. Enough to throw off Zach’s eyes again.

  It worked.

  Only… Zach expected it.

  He forced himself forward blindly, sliding under the expected right hook. His elbow jammed upward into Elle’s ribs, catching her off-balance. She reeled—and Zach drove the end of the wooden sword into her stomach like a battering ram.

  Thump.

  Her breath left her in a quiet gasp, and Zach swept her leg as she fell, sending her down clean.

  ‘That’s two. Just two more.’

  He was panting now. Drenched in sweat. Limbs shaking from adrenaline and impact. His shoulder throbbed. His wrist was starting to go numb from blocking.

  The last two?

  They weren’t rushing in.

  Sato stood back, drones firing in controlled bursts—bullets peppering the ground and air to keep Zach boxed in.

  Derrin crouched low on the opposite side. Waiting.

  Watching.

  ‘They’re playing it smart. Corralling me. Keeping me reactive.’

  Then—

  “Ow—shit!” Zach yelped, looking down.

  A line of ants were crawling up his legs, biting down like nature had decided to join the battle.

  “What the hell is this?!”

  He shook his leg hard, flailing.

  It was enough of a distraction.

  Derrin moved.

  Closed the gap fast and went for the finishing blow—a clean, full-force spinning kick aimed squarely at Zach’s head.

  It would’ve landed.

  But Zach’s reflexes betrayed him—he lifted his leg out of panic to shake off the ants.

  CRACK.

  His shin collided directly with Derrin’s jaw.

  Derrin flipped backward like a crash-test dummy and hit the ground hard, ants flying off in every direction.

  Zach stood there, frozen. Ants still clinging to his sock.

  “…Shit. He’s gonna be so mad when he wakes up.”

  He turned slowly.

  The courtyard was quiet now.

  Just him.

  And Sato.

  The drone boy glanced around.

  One unconscious.

  Two down.

  One very possibly concussed.

  Zach stepped forward slowly, dragging the wooden sword behind him like a reaper with a dull scythe.

  “Satooo~,” he said, voice sing-song and filled with murder.

  Sato held up a finger. “Now hold on. Technically, I didn’t hurt you. My drones did. So if you wanna break something, it should probably be them, not me—”

  “Oh, I plan to.”

  WHACK.

  The end of the wooden sword smacked Sato square on the forehead. He crumpled like a house of cards.

  The drones all immediately dropped from the air with a soft bzzzzt-click, deactivating like they knew their master had fallen.

  Zach stood alone.

  Covered in dirt.

  Scratched up.

  Bite marks on his ankle.

  Breathing like a dying rhino.

  But standing.

  He looked around at the battlefield of his friends.

  All unconscious, groaning, or stunned.

  He raised a hand into the air.

  And immediately collapsed.