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Chapter 9. The Group Gathers

  Mark rolled his shoulders as they left the sparring area, his body still pulsing with the familiar post-fight exhaustion. Lyra walked beside him, still looking far too pleased with herself after their match.

  Behind them, Daniel and Raven were finally exiting their ring—Daniel rubbing his shoulder where Raven had clipped him, while Raven, looking entirely unbothered, adjusted her gloves.

  “You’re way too smug about that win,” Daniel grumbled.

  “Maybe you should stop losing,” Raven said flatly.

  Mark smirked at their bickering, but before he could comment, they turned a corner near the changing rooms and nearly walked straight into Aria Res.

  She glanced up from her tablet, eyes flicking between them. “Oh. Looks like I just missed all the fun.”

  Aria Res had a naturally composed aura, a presence that made it seem like she always knew more than she let on. Her long, sleek dark hair framed her face, and her sharp, analytical gaze took in the group like a scientist observing a test subject.

  “Aria,” Lyra greeted smoothly, shifting her weight onto one hip. “You didn’t ‘miss’ much—unless you wanted to see Mark get completely destroyed.”

  Mark sighed. “Thanks, Lyra.”

  Aria’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “To be fair, a light-based ability against shadows is an unfair matchup.”

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  Lyra shrugged. “Hey, it’s not my fault his element sucks.”

  Mark exhaled through his nose, ignoring her. “You heading to train?”

  “No,” Aria said, lowering her tablet. “Just finished drilling some new moves using harmonics. But I could use a break.”

  Lyra’s grin widened. “Then let’s make it a dinner break.”

  Aria tilted her head slightly. “Dinner?”

  “Post-sparring tradition.” Lyra gestured vaguely toward the group. “We’re starving. You should come.”

  Aria considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.”

  As they started walking, Mark absentmindedly reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone—only to see a missed call from Chris Sylvir.

  Mark frowned, then dialed back.

  The phone barely rang once before Chris answered. “Took you long enough.”

  Mark smirked slightly. “Didn’t see your call. Just finished sparring.”

  “Of course. You were too busy getting your face kicked in.”

  Mark sighed. “Why does everyone assume I lost?”

  “Because I know Lyra, and I know you.”

  Mark exhaled, shaking his head. “You free? We’re heading to get food. Come join us.”

  There was a slight pause on the line—not hesitation, but calculation. Then Chris sighed. “Fine. I could use a break from drowning in policy briefs.”

  “Drowning?” Mark echoed, amused. “Sounds fun.”

  “It’s a privilege,” Chris corrected smoothly. “A frustrating, headache-inducing privilege.”

  Mark chuckled. “Alright, see you soon.”

  He hung up and glanced at the others. “Chris is coming.”

  “Great,” Lyra said cheerfully. “It’s been a while since we had everyone together.”

  Aria hummed thoughtfully. “Is he still preparing for the admissions cycle?”

  “Yeah,” Mark said, pocketing his phone. “Busy as always.”

  Daniel stretched. “Good. Maybe he’ll pay for dinner to compensate for all the times he ditched us.”

  “Not a chance,” Mark said flatly.

  With that, they made their way toward their usual spot—a student-favorite eatery, buzzing with life, where their real conversations would begin.

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