Dinner started at seven-thirty, so I had to be at the stadium by five-thirty. I was feeling better—and mentally, I'd already accepted that I was about to wreck my muscles all over again.
"You look a lot better," Andrew noted. He was waiting for me on the upper stands, a cigarette hanging from his lips.
The craving hit so hard it almost folded me in half. I held it back.
Students probably weren't allowed to smoke. Though…
"Got one?" I asked.
"And you think smoking before a run is a good idea?"
"So it's not actually forbidden here?"
"Alan, people of all ages study here. Of course students can smoke—but only in designated areas. Alcohol and drugs are banned on campus." He paused, then added with a grin, "Hard drugs."
He flicked the cigarette away and stood. "Let's go. Two laps to start."
My injuries were gone. My muscles didn't ache anymore.
Didn't matter.
The strain hit just as hard.
By the end of the session, I couldn't move. Not a finger.
"Well, better than I expected," Andrew said. "Cigarette?" he smirked.
I dragged myself onto the grass and held out my hand.
We smoked in silence.
Then split.
I was almost half an hour late for dinner. Getting back to the dorms and taking a shower had nearly killed me. On the upside, I was starving—I tore through two servings of lasagna, a chicken sandwich, and a slice of orange pie like I hadn't eaten in days.
"Today was worse than yesterday," Sol muttered, looking like he might pass out right there at the table.
"I liked it," Robert grinned. "I've never done martial arts before, but it's actually interesting. All that talk about fairness in a fight—what a joke. You really think the monsters we'll face are going to play fair?"
"So what, you're a street fighter?" Alma cut in.
"Hey, Matthew!" I waved. He flinched slightly. "Wait up—I'm done too!" I pushed back from the table. "Guys, I'm heading out!"
"He's a weird one," Robert shrugged.
"Did you need something?" Matthew asked cautiously when I caught up with him.
"Nothing special. Just figured we could walk back together. Or… is that weird for you?"
"No. Not at all," he said quickly.
We were almost at the dorm.
And we hadn't said a word.
I scrambled for something—anything—to say, but my mind was completely blank.
"So… you're into sports?" I blurted.
"Yeah." Short answer.
Silence again.
"What kind?"
"Underground no-rules fights," he said calmly.
I stopped.
He didn't even look like someone who'd done that.
Not even close.
And that calm of his only made it harder to believe.
"You mind telling me how you ended up there?"
"Nothing interesting."
"It is to me," I insisted. "Let's sit for a bit—I might actually collapse." I nodded toward a bench near the dorm entrance.
He followed.
"So? How did you get into underground fights?"
"I used to be aggressive," he said. "One of my mother's lovers suggested I could make money that way. Said it would help me control it… and rein in my imagination."
"Your imagination?"
"I saw a сущность for the first time when I was nine. At first, I told myself it was just my imagination. Then I realized they were real. I tried telling my mother. She brushed it off—said I was making things up."
He paused.
"I was a kid. I didn't know what they were or how to deal with them. So I tried yelling at them. Driving them away. Even hitting them. That didn't go well. I started having problems at school. They sent me to a psychiatrist. And when talk of a psychiatric hospital came up, I realized I had to shut up about what I was seeing."
His voice stayed calm.
Too calm.
"Maybe that's how I dealt with it. I don't know. By twelve, I'd already ended up at a police station for fighting. Same year—they sent me into my first match."
"Damn… that's…"
"But now I'm here," he said, giving a faint, tired smile. "And I know I'm not crazy."
"Why didn't they recruit you earlier? Teacher Start said they test kids every year."
"Think about how many specials they'd need to check every school," he said. "It's unrealistic. My school didn't have that. I was noticed by chance. The man who recruited me came to visit someone in the hospital—my neighbor in the ward. I was there after a fight that didn't go well. He dropped his prayer beads near my bed. I picked them up to return them."
A short pause.
"In nineteen years, he was the first person who understood me. I didn't hesitate when he offered me a place here."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," I said quietly.
"It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. That's just how it turned out."
"And your mother?"
"She didn't care. Where I was, what happened to me—it didn't matter. The moment I turned eighteen, she threw me out. I still have a younger sister." His voice tightened just slightly. "I need to graduate fast. Get a good position. And get her away from that woman before she ruins her life too."
"If you ever need help—tell me. I can't do much right now, but still…"
"Then tell me how you managed to feel your power," he said. "I don't have any problems with the physical training. Theory's fine too. But the power itself…"
"I'm not even sure," I admitted. Then I explained all the weird mental images I'd been using.
"Thanks," he said, smiling faintly. "I'll try it your way."
The next day, during lunch, Christina was waiting for me by the dining hall doors. She waved with a bright smile and walked straight over to our group—which now included Matthew, thanks to me practically dragging him along.
"Hey, Alan. You look like hell. Did Samantha mess something up?" she asked.
Everyone immediately turned to stare at me.
"I just had a brutal evening workout and a morning run yesterday."
"Then you need real food. Come with me." She gestured toward the second tier.
I didn't move.
"That's the elite section. I'm a special."
"Oh, come on. Clyde invited you—that means you belong there."
"I'd rather eat here," I said.
"Alan," she said, her tone sharpening slightly, "have you really not figured it out yet? Clyde's requests aren't optional. Move. I'm starving."
I glanced at the others.
Robert was frowning.
Matthew looked as calm as ever.
Alma was watching me like she didn't trust any of this.
"Sorry, guys," I sighed. "As you can see, I don't exactly get a vote here."
And with that, I dragged myself after Christina.