Third Person POV
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They separated, huffing, and took their seats. George and the others masked their surprise—
Ivy's composed side had just cracked.
The mentor in the center adjusted the mic.
"A good day to all. Apologies for the delay. Due to administrative issues, we are starting late. Today, you will choose your areas of specialization. Returning students may change fields or wait until next year.
Boxes and colored cards represent departments—medics, law, arts, computers, and more. Write your name on a card and drop it into the tube for your chosen field. Use a white card if you are maintaining your department. You may choose more than one if capable.
Failure to meet qualifications will result in demotion and reselection. Questions? First office, main building.
Commence."
Ivy scanned the cards, a slight frown forming before she leaned toward Nathan.
"Some of these overlap," she whispered. "Why separate theatre from arts?"
Nathan smiled, like he'd been waiting for that.
"Specialization. You skip the general noise and go straight to what matters. Same with science—if you're aiming to be a physician, you don't wander. You dive."
Ivy tilted her head. "Then why not start this in Form One?"
Nathan sighed. "Because people change their minds. And when they do, it costs them. For example—say you started Economics in high school but want to switch to Chemistry. You can… but you'll have to restart from Form One."
Ivy blinked slowly.
"…Damn."
Nathan chuckled and turned back to his cards.
Ivy watched him select a white card, then add law. Her brows lifted.
"What field are you in?"
"Accounting," he replied. "We agreed to add law this year. George, Albert, and Zoé already take it. The rest of us just pick what helps on missions."
He dropped his cards into the tube, then glanced at her.
"What about you?"
Ivy stared at the cards.
Then at her teammates.
Then back at the cards.
Finally, she wrote her name.
"Medics. Law. Arts. Sciences."
She dropped them in.
Silence.
Albert didn't react.
George and Donald exchanged a brief glance—calm, but cautious.
Lily's mouth fell open. Fiona gently nudged it shut, though her own surprise lingered.
Zoé scoffed, folding her arms tightly.
Even Nathan raised an eyebrow but Ivy just blinked, confused. "What?"
Fiona spoke first, concern clear in her voice.
"Isn't that… too much?"
"Yeah," Lily added. "You just got here. Most newbies pick one or two, then add later."
Donald smirked. "And since you transferred, you won't start from Form One—but you'll still have to study everything from there_oof"
He clutched his side immediately as George elbowed him.
Ivy shrugged.
"I'll manage."
"Show-off," Zoé muttered.
She earned disapproving looks—but said nothing more.
The rest of the event passed without incident.
By evening, they were back at the apartment, sprawled across couches in exhaustion.
Albert groaned and dropped his head onto Ivy's thigh.
No one reacted.
Except Donald.
"Your relationship is still weird," he said. "You sure you broke up?"
Ivy and Albert exchanged a glance. Then Ivy shoved him off. He hit the floor with a thud, glaring half-heartedly as he ran a hand through his hair.
"Don't misunderstand."
"You make it difficult." Donald mumbled
"How?" Albert shot back. "Lily clings to Fiona all the time. Doesn't make them a couple."
"Lily's the youngest. Fiona's basically the group mom."
"Shut it, Rodriguez."
Albert narrowed his eyes, warning, and cautious not to walk into a trap set by Donald.
Zoé scoffed.
"She's seducing him," she said flatly. "It's what she does."
"Zoé—"
She ignored them.
A second later—
*Buzz.
Then another.
One by one, their phones lit up.
The room went still.
Albert's expression darkened as he read.
Slowly… he looked up at Zoe.
"Where did you get this?"
Zoé smiled.
"Digging isn't illegal. Lying is."
"Shut up," Albert snapped. "You have no idea what you're playing with."
The others were uneasy—but curious.
And from Albert's reaction…
…it might be real.
All eyes shifted to Ivy who stared at her phone.
Silent.
Still.
Calm.
Crack.
A thin fracture spread across her screen beneath her fingers.
She wasn't gripping it hard.
She was just… rubbing it.
And it was breaking anyway.
Albert immediately moved closer.
"Hey… you don't have to explain anything. That case was closed. Zoé's just being her usual selfish—"
"Jeez, stop the act," Zoé cut in. "What, sympathy now? She couldn't get over her ex for years and almost died. That's your teammate?"
Albert's jaw tightened.
"We need someone on our level—not some desperate daddy's girl who—"
"Zoé, you're unbelievable!"
Lily exploded.
No one stopped her.
"Anyone who actually listened to the full story knows she was the victim! People like you are the problem!"
Zoé glared—but her focus returned to Ivy.
Still calm.
Still silent.
Albert ran a hand through his hair, ready to snap again but Ivy sighed.
"I know you don't like me," she said quietly. "But my past isn't yours to weaponize."
She met Zoé's eyes, unblinking.
"Delete it. I was a victim. And if any of this leaks…"
A pause.
"You'll deal with me."
Another.
"And trust me—you don't want that."
She stood and walked away.
No drama.
No noise.
Just… control.
Zoé scoffed—but it rang hollow.
The others didn't look at her.
Didn't speak.
One by one, they left.
That silence hit harder than any insult.
Zoé clenched her fists and kicked the table.
It flew across the room, crashing into the wall.
Glass shattered.
Still not enough.
Her fists tightened further— until blood slipped between her fingers.
Time Skip
Training intensified.
Renzo pushed them to their limits—until collapse became routine.
The tension between Zoé and the others grew.
Ivy remained… untouched by it all.
For now.
Two weeks before the tournament—
They lay scattered across the training field, gasping for air under the blazing sun.
Renzo lounged nearby on a massage chair under an umbrella, sipping wine.
"Get up, weirdos," he called lazily. "Being number one isn't easyyyyy."
Donald glared but still forced himself up.
Ivy walked over, took his glass and drank all of it.
"…Aren't you supposed to train with us?" she asked. "I heard mentors fight too."
Renzo stared at his empty glass, then calmly poured another.
"Me? Train? Kid… have you seen my opponents?"
"…No."
"Exactly."
He smirked, taking a slow sip.
"God, this is good. Want some? Oh—right. Under eighteen. Hehehe"
Ivy's eye twitched.
She kicked the chair.
It flipped—flying into a tree.
Renzo leapt off mid-air, landing dramatically.
"Smooth," he said with a grin. "Real smooth."
Then his tone dropped.
"Step aside, earthworms."
They moved.
"All except you, Ivy."
She sighed.
"But I just—"
"Position."
"Seriously—"
"Silence."
He raised a hand dramatically.
Donald rolled his eyes and walked off, pulling George with him.
The others stepped back as the fight started instantly.
Ivy blocked.
Dodged.
Countered— but Renzo overwhelmed her easily.
"Not helping," she muttered. "You're just feeding your ego."
"True," he said. "Now get mad."
"This is stupid." Ivy muttered boredly
"Like your life." Renzo shot back
"Oh wow. I'm devastated." Ivy rolled her eyes, tone dripping with mockery and sarcasm.
She shifted— defense turning into attack. Renzo grabbed her hair— yanked— and drove his knee into hers.
She dropped.
Lily gasped.
Fiona held her back.
Renzo leaned close— whispering something only Ivy heard.
Her expression changed.
Slightly.
She grabbed his hair—
flipped him—
and stood.
"Stop it."
"Why?" he laughed. "Too much?"
The air shifted as she raised her hand.
The sky darkened.
Lightning struck beside her. She didn't flinch.
Clouds spiraled—collapsed—
turned to sand.
It wrapped around her arm— forming a blade.
She lowered it.
The tip touched his cheek.
Renzo laughed.
"You've got power. But let's be real… you couldn't kill a rat anymore."
—
Something in her expression shifted.
Not anger.
Not rage.
Something colder.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the forming blade.
Weak.
She had heard that word too many times growing up.
Hated it.
—
The blade sank into his cheek.
"Renzo!"