Wednesday dragged.
Classes came and went. Professor Quill droned about something Alex definitely should have been paying attention to. Veronica sat next to him. Didn't look at him. Didn't speak. Didn't acknowledge that anything had happened yesterday.
Alex checked the HUD every few minutes.
[Curiosity: 61% → 53% → 48%...]
[Boredom: 70% → 76% → 81%...]
[Contempt: 78% → 79% → 80%...]
Nothing useful. Numbers doing number things. She was still there. Still her. Still giving him absolutely nothing to work with.
He didn't push. Didn't ask. Just sat through Theory of Resonant Frequencies with his jaw tight and his leg bouncing under the desk.
Scarlett caught him in the hall between classes. Grinned, waved, said something about "looking forward to training" in a way that made him immediately not look forward to training.
He mumbled something noncommittal and kept walking.
By the time the last class ended, his nerves had reached critical mass.
She said yes. She actually said yes. But what if she changed her mind? What if this is a test? What if she shows up just to watch me fail again? What if—
He shook the thoughts loose, took a very deep breath, and headed to the Quiet Room.
The halls were mostly empty. Late afternoon, early evening—that weird time between structured activities and dinner when students either trained or disappeared into their dorms. Light slanted through the windows, long and orange.
The Quiet Room was at the end of a corridor no one used.
As he got closer, he heard sounds.
Thwack.
Thwack.
Thwack.
Rhythmic. Precise. The sound of something hitting a target over and over.
Alex slowed.
That wasn't Vera. Vera didn't make sounds like that. Vera didn't... train.
He reached the door, and peered through the small window. Inside, someone moved through forms with a blade. Fast. Controlled. The kind of precision that came from years of practice, not months.
Blonde hair, pulled back.
Anastasia.
Alex froze.
She was good. Really good. Better than anyone her level should be. Better than he could ever be.
The blade flashed. The dummy registered hits:
DAMAGE: 28/100
Thwack: 26/100
Thwack: 30/100
Thwack: 29/100
Over and over.
She'd been hiding this. All this time.
He watched without meaning to. Without being able to look away. Somewhere in his brain, the "stop staring" memo got lost in processing.
The blade paused mid-swing.
Anastasia turned.
Alex froze.
She froze.
Five seconds of absolute silence where neither of them breathed.
"Uhhhh." Alex's mouth moved before his brain caught up. "Good evening."
Good evening. That's what he went with, because apparently his brain had decided this was a casual hallway encounter and not whatever this actually was.
He walked in anyway, because running felt worse.
Anastasia stood there, blade held with both hands, tip resting on the floor. She was looking at literally anything except him. The wall. The floor. The flickering sensor in the corner. The wall again.
Alex's eyes flicked to the blade.
It was gorgeous. The kind of weapon that cost more than his entire existence. Matte-black core, edges that looked almost invisible—glass or crystal or something equally ridiculous. Gold crossguard sweeping forward like crescent moons. Heavy golden pommel catching the light. Channels etched into the black surface, waiting for Resonance to flow through them.
That was not a training weapon, that was a statement.
His gaze drifted to the dummy's display.
DAMAGE: 31/100
The most recent hit. Just sitting there. Like a proof of everything he just witnessed.
He looked back at her. She was still not looking at him.
Anastasia shifted her weight. The blade didn't move—still resting on the floor, still held in both hands, still looking way too expensive to be in a room like this.
"So." Alex's voice came out rougher than he meant. "You've been... practicing."
She nodded. Once. Small. "For a while."
"Looks like it."
She finally looked at him. Very carefully, her green eyes, worried and tired, locked on his face.
Alex looked at the dummy again. 31/100. Then at the blade. Then at her.
"Why hide it? You're—" He gestured at the dummy. "You're actually good. Like, really good. You could probably take Kevin in a real fight."
She blinked. Once. Then twice. Then let out a short laugh. Not mocking. Just surprised.
"Kevin?" she repeated. Like the idea was cute.
"Okay, maybe not Kevin. But—" He gestured vaguely. "Someone. You know what I mean."
She exhaled. The blade dissolved—light breaking apart, fading into nothing. Just like that. No effort. Like she'd been doing it her whole life.
"You know how it is." Her voice was quiet now. Tired. "The moment they notice, the moment they actually see you as a threat—" She stopped. Swallowed. "You saw what happened after your first duel. The way they looked at you. The way they still look at you."
Alex paused.
He knew exactly what she meant. The stares. The whispers. Poster Boy. Marcus's hand on his chest, shoving him against a wall.
"Yeah," he said. "I know."
Her eyes flicked to him. Worried now. Backtracking. "I didn't mean it like—"
"It's fine." He cut her off. Not mean. Just... honest. "You're not wrong."
She didn't say anything.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Welcome to being a Black Mark, I guess."
She almost smiled. Almost. "Yeah." Quiet. "Welcome to being a Black Mark."
Alex looked at her. At the space where her blade used to be. At the dummy still displaying her last hit.
"You know you can't hide forever, right?"
She looked at him. Careful again.
He gestured vaguely at the dummy. "That. All of it. You're clearly from a military house—" He pointed at where her blade had been. "That Artifice wasn't bought at a store. Someone in your family knows their stuff."
She didn't deny it.
"Even if you're doing it for them, or for whatever reason—" He shrugged. "At some point you gotta do it for yourself. Right?"
She stared at him.
He kept going. Because apparently his mouth was on a roll.
"I mean, what's the worst they can do? Stare at you? They already stare at us. Talk about you behind your back? They already do that too." He rubbed his neck. "Might as well give them something real to talk about."
Silence.
Anastasia blinked.
"That's..." She trailed off. "That's insane."
"Yeah. Probably."
"But also..." She looked away. Thought about it. "Maybe not completely wrong."
He grinned. Just a little.
She almost smiled again. Almost opened her mouth—
The door slid open.
Veronica stood there. Arms folded, her red eyes moving from Alex to Anastasia to the dummy, then back to Alex.
[Curiosity: 48% → 55% ↑]
[Boredom: 81% → 76% ↓]
[Cognitive Engagement: 14% → 15% ↑]
No one moved.
Anastasia straightened. Her hand twitched—muscle memory, reaching for a blade that wasn't there anymore.
"I should—" She gestured vaguely at the exit. "I'll just—"
She moved past Alex. Past Veronica. Didn't look at either of them.
The door slid shut behind her.
Then silence.
Alex stared at the door for a second longer than necessary. Processing. The conversation. The blade. The fact that Anastasia Collins was apparently a secret prodigy and he'd just accidentally walked in on her whole deal.
Then he turned.
Veronica was still watching him. Arms folded. Red eyes giving nothing away.
"You're early," she finally said.
"You said don't be late."
"Hm."
[Cognitive Engagement: 15% → 18% ↑]
She walked past him, deeper into the room. Stopped about twenty feet away. Turned.
"Bring your scythe out."
Alex blinked. Then did it.
The scythe materialized in his hands. Familiar now. His.
"What about the crystals?" He asked.
The dagger materialized in her hand. Just the dagger. Small. Unimpressive. Completely inadequate against a seven-foot scythe.
She held it loosely. One hand behind her back. Sideways to him. Waiting.
[Cognitive Engagement: 18% → 70% ↑]
"The scythe is R-20. You're R-14." Flat. Unhurried. "Learn to use it at R-20 first. Then we upgrade."
Alex stared at her. At the dagger. At the distance between them.
His eyes widened.
She's going to fight me. Actually fight me. Train me. Whatever this is. With that tiny thing.
The text flickered at the edge of his vision.
[METASENSE SYSTEM — UPDATING]
[Anchor Willingness Threshold Met]
[Metasense Fully Active]
[Power Leak: 0.05% → 0.1% ↑]
[Locked Skills: 47 — Unlock with User Level Progression]
[SOVEREIGN RESONANCE ARSENAL: UNLOCKED]
[Armory (User Lvl 1): 1 Secondary Artifice Registered — Locked]
[Note: Armory access requires User R-15]
ARMORY MANIFESTATION LIMIT: +5 R-Levels above User
Current Max: R-20
[User Level: 1]
[User R-Level: 14]
[Skill Unlocked — Precognition: +2 Seconds]
[Cooldown Time: 1 Minute]
[Reaction Time: Enhanced]
PRIMARY ARTIFICE
Rivain Scythe — R-20
Bonded | Channel Stable
[New section detected: BASIC COMBAT PROTOCOLS]
[Accessible now. View? Y/N]
SYSTEM LOG
[Sovereign Resonance Arsenal fully active. Revocation not possible.]
[Armory Manifestation Limit scales with Power Leak and User Level.]
A grin spread across his face. Not cocky. Just... excited. For the first time in months, actually excited.
The scythe shifted in his grip. He settled into a stance.
"Ready whenever you are... Sensei."
[Amusement: 4% → 6% ↑]
She rolled her eyes.
‡«»‡