Tuesday arrived like it always did—too early, too bright, and completely indifferent to whether Alex was ready for it.
He wasn't.
The walk to the arena was the same as always, students in clusters, Golds with Golds, Blues with Blues. Near the back, Anastasia and Patrick walked in silence, invisible as ever.
Alex stood at his usual spot, arms crossed, watching the crowd filter in. First years, second years, Golds looking like they own the building, Blues trying to look like they belonged, Blacks pressed against walls.
Same as every Tuesday.
Then the text flickered at the edge of his vision.
[EMOTIONAL MATRIX — UPDATING — ANCHOR WITHIN RANGE]
He didn't turn, didn't need to. Footsteps stopped next to him. Close. Closer than most people stood.
Veronica leaned against the railing. No tablet, no scroll. Just... standing there, watching the students file in like she was people-watching at a very boring airport.
Alex's brain immediately went to yesterday.
She smirked. At me. That was a smirk. I know it was a smirk. But what does a smirk mean? From her? Is that good? Bad? Does she even know what smirks mean? She probably knows exactly what smirks mean. That's the problem.
He stared at the crowd, didn't look at her.
She hasn't mentioned it. Of course she hasn't mentioned it. She's not going to mention it. I'm going to spend the rest of my life wondering about that smirk and she's never going to acknowledge it existed.
He finally glanced at the HUD.
[Curiosity: 22% → 22% —]
[Boredom: 82% → 83% ↑]
Boredom up. Great. She's already bored and we haven't even started.
"You know," he said, still not looking at her, "you could try making your fights last a little longer."
Nothing at first. Then he felt her turn. He turned too, meeting those unreadable red eyes, waiting to see if he'd keep talking.
[Curiosity: 22% → 25% ↑]
[Cognitive Engagement: 15% → 18% ↑]
He kept going. "Just... I don't know. Thirty seconds instead of ten. Gives people less to talk about."
Veronica kept looking at him for another second. Then she turned back to the crowd without saying a word.
[Boredom: 83% → 82% ↓]
Alex blinked at the HUD. He had no idea if she'd even listened. No idea if the numbers meant anything. No idea if he'd just wasted his breath or if—for some reason—she'd actually heard him.
He looked back at the arena.
Across it, Claudia Windsor settled into her seat. Same flat expression. Same Blue Mark catching the light when she raised a hand to signal the proctors.
Near the Gold section, someone said something funny. Marcus laughed—loud, performative, the kind of laugh that wanted everyone to know he was having a good time. His eyes scanned the arena as he laughed. Casual. Unbothered.
They landed on Alex's corner, and stopped. On Alex. On Veronica. Standing next to each other. Close. Like it was normal.
Marcus's laugh cut off. His jaw tightened just for a second, then he looked away, said something to the guy next to him, and pretended it never happened.
Alex saw it. He looked at Veronica. She was still watching the crowd. Expression unchanged.
[Boredom: 82% → 82% —]
No reaction. Of course.
He looked back at the arena.
‡"‡
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ROUND 3
KEVIN GREGORY | YEAR: 1 | AGE: 19 | MARK: BLUE | R-LEVEL: 25
YOLANDA COTCH | YEAR: 2 | AGE: 22 | MARK: GOLD | R-LEVEL: 38
The board flickered. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Wait, wasn't he R-24 last week?"
"He went up already?"
"I think I have a crush on Kevin."
Kevin walked onto the stage like he'd just been invited to a party. Grin already in place. Tonfas materializing in his hands—longer than the standard version, extended hafts that gave him reach most tonfa users didn't have. They hummed with that fresh-upgraded energy, blue light pulsing along the shafts.
Yolanda followed from the opposite side. Calm. Unhurried. Dark hair, sharp eyes, the kind of quiet confidence that came from knowing you were better than most people in the room. Her whip materialized at her side—segmented metal, each joint glowing faintly green, coiling like a living thing waiting to strike.
She looked at Kevin. Then at his tonfas. Then back at his face.
"You went up a level."
Kevin's grin widened. "Noticed that, did you?"
"I noticed." She tilted her head. "Doesn't change anything."
"We'll see."
Claudia's hand went up.
"Begin."
The hand dropped.
Yolanda moved first. Her whip snapped—fast, precise, aiming for his legs. Kevin jumped, the tip grazing the floor where he'd been standing. He landed already moving, closing distance because range was death.
She knew that. She backpedaled, her whip coiling and striking in the same motion. Kevin blocked with a tonfa—the crack of metal on metal echoed—and kept coming.
Second strike. Third. Each one faster than the last, the whip finding angles most weapons couldn't. Kevin dodged, ducked, blocked. His tonfas spun in his hands, deflecting strikes meant to wrap around his limbs.
He wasn't hitting her. Couldn't get close enough. But he wasn't getting hit either.
Yolanda's eyes narrowed. She changed tempo—whip retreated, then exploded forward in a wide arc meant to catch him across the chest.
Kevin dropped. Rolled. Came up three feet closer.
Yolanda smiled. Small. Respectful.
"Not bad."
"Thanks." He was breathing hard. "You're not so bad yourself."
She smirked. Then came at him again.
The next thirty seconds were a blur. Whip and tonfas, orange and blue, striking and deflecting and neither of them giving ground. Kevin got inside her reach twice—twice she forced him back with a crack of energy that sparked off his tonfas.
He never landed a hit.
But he never stopped trying.
The whip cracked—then split. Two segments, two mouths, moving independently. Kevin's eyes went wide. The first coil wrapped around his tonfas, yanking them wide. The second coiled around his legs, swept them out from under him.
He hit the ground hard.
Before he could move, she was already there with a blade in her hand—second Artifice, slim and gleaming—pressed against his neck.
Kevin froze. The crowd went silent.
Claudia's voice cut through. "Cease. Winner established."
The board flickered.
YOLANDA COTCH – SCORE: 9/10
KEVIN GREGORY – SCORE: 6/10
Yolanda held the blade for one more second. Then stepped back. She dismissed both weapons before looking down at Kevin with something that wasn't quite a smile.
"Good fight."
She walked off.
Kevin lay on the stage for a moment, catching his breath. Then he laughed. Actually laughed. He pushed himself up, brushed off his uniform, and raised a fist to his faction. They erupted.
Alex watched from his corner. Beside him, Veronica hadn't moved.
[Curiosity: 25% → 26% ↑]
[Boredom: 82% → 82% —]
She was still watching the stage. Alex looked at the HUD.
Curiosity up. But not at him.
He didn't know why that bothered him.
‡«»‡