The medics wheeled Jonathan away beneath the distant hum of the arena’s barrier field, his unconscious form disappearing down a side corridor. The roar of the crowd dulled, replaced by murmurs as the ninth round officially concluded.

  Aaron exhaled slowly and turned back toward the stands.

  Caitlyn was waiting for him—but she wasn’t alone.

  Standing beside her was a woman who looked entirely out of place among students and faculty alike. She was tall and rail-thin, dressed head to toe in muted gray. A long coat hung from her shoulders, cinched with belts and metal buckles that clinked softly when she moved. A wide derby hat cast a shadow over sharp hazel eyes. Smoke curled lazily from the cigarette between her fingers.

  Mrs. Zinc didn’t look at Aaron at first.

  Mrs. Zinc: Mr. Nanazawa. Sit.

  Not a request.

  Aaron hesitated for half a second, then sat beside Caitlyn. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the woman since she arrived.

  Mrs. Zinc flicked ash into the air and finally turned toward them. Without a word, she handed each of them a tablet.

  The screen lit up.

  The video was shaky. Dark. Snow falling.

  A woman shielding a young girl.

  Gunfire.

  Aaron’s breath caught. Caitlyn’s fingers went white around the tablet.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  The sound cut out—but the image didn’t need it.

  The bodies fell.

  Silence.

  Aaron: …No way.

  Caitlyn swallowed hard, her crimson eyes locked on the frozen frame.

  Caitlyn: That’s… Hiruzen’s—

  Mrs. Zinc: Mother and younger sister. Confirmed.

  She took a drag, exhaling smoke like a funeral veil.

  Mrs. Zinc: Executed by an A&M black-ops unit. Field leader: Skyzen.

  Aaron slowly lowered the tablet, his mind racing, equations stalling for the first time in years.

  Aaron: Why are you showing us this?

  Mrs. Zinc: Because after the tenth round, there will be an intermission. During that window, the Sagewells will attempt to leave the premises.

  She leaned forward slightly.

  Mrs. Zinc: They won’t.

  Caitlyn finally looked up.

  Caitlyn: And you expect us to stop them?

  Mrs. Zinc: You, Mr. Nanazawa, will lock down the arena’s exit vectors. No teleportation. No spatial displacement. No movement exceeding human-scale thresholds.

  Aaron’s jaw tightened.

  Aaron: And Caitlyn?

  Mrs. Zinc turned to her, eyes sharp.

  Mrs. Zinc: You will locate Skadi.

  The name hung heavy.

  Aaron: Are you serious? You saw what she did to Hiruzen. She nearly killed him.

  Caitlyn’s lips curled—not in fear, but confidence.

  Caitlyn: During their fight, she bled.

  She tapped the tablet once.

  Caitlyn: Blood all over the arena floor. That’s more than enough.

  Mrs. Zinc nodded.

  Mrs. Zinc: Still, don’t underestimate her. Reito confirmed she’s a vessel for a Primordial. Expect resistance. Expect failure.

  Aaron frowned.

  Aaron: Then why do this at all?

  Mrs. Zinc reached into her coat and produced a small vial filled with glowing blue liquid.

  Mrs. Zinc: Insurance.

  She set it between them.

  Mrs. Zinc: Amplification serum. Temporary. Unstable. It will elevate blood manipulation to Level Zero—enough to restrain or combat Skadi if necessary.

  Caitlyn stared at the vial, expression unreadable.

  Mrs. Zinc: There’s another.

  She produced a second vial and slid it toward Aaron.

  Mrs. Zinc: For you. If things collapse.

  Aaron didn’t touch it.

  Aaron: And the cost?

  Mrs. Zinc smiled thinly.

  Mrs. Zinc: There’s always a cost.

  She stood, smoke trailing behind her.

  Mrs. Zinc: For now, we wait.

  The lights of the arena dimmed slightly as the Dean stepped back onto the central platform.

  Dean Frederick: Attention students. The participants for the tenth round are Walter Adams and Daniel Fortuna. Please make your way to the arena.

  Across the field, Walter strode forward in his traditional gi, red headband fluttering behind him.

  Opposite him, Daniel Fortuna rolled a die across his knuckles, a deck of cards fanned casually in his other hand. His suit was immaculate—black, white, and red, like a wager made flesh.

  RefBot hovered between them.

  RefBot: Fighters ready?

  Walter: Always.

  Daniel smiled, flicking a card into the air.

  Daniel: Luck favors the bold.

  RefBot: Then let the tenth round of the Midterms—BEGIN!

  As the crowd erupted once more, Caitlyn’s gaze drifted back to the glowing vial in her palm.

  And somewhere above them, unseen eyes watched.

  End Chapter