Rheya's words still hung in the air. "Let's start with the scars."
Veil leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. Scars, huh. She said it so casually. Like peeling back skin was something we all just… did.
He glanced at his tray—mostly empty. Half the dining hall had cleared out by now. Only a few clusters lingered, watching the broadcast loop on silent repeat above them.
"Alright," he said finally. "You want honesty? Fine."
He didn't usually talk like this. Didn't usually talk much at all. But something about the past twenty-four hours had cracked the surface.
"I'm from Sector 1-A. Central zone. We had bunkers, evac routes, real defenses. When the collapse hit, my family was on a chopper within the hour." He paused, eyes locked on something far away. "Didn't lose anyone. Not really. Not like some people."
He didn't look at Rheya, but he could feel her nod. "Same. Sector 2-F. Not rich, but close enough. We heard the sirens before we saw the sky crack."
Torren hadn't said much since they sat down. Now he just shrugged. "3-C. Suburban edge. Lucky timing. Military transport got us out fast. I remember noise, but not much else."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was heavy. Real.
Veil's eyes flicked toward the far corner—Kaelen's usual spot.
Torren's voice came quiet. "You think he ever lost someone?"
Veil didn't answer at first. He didn't like guessing. But Kaelen… Kaelen wasn't built from nothing. He remembered what he'd overheard—the instructors, their tone when they spoke of Kaelen like he wasn't even a student.
"You saw how he fought during the trials. That wasn't normal." He leaned in, lowering his voice. "And I overheard Veren talking to Brax—about the final exam."
Torren turned. "What about it?"
"They said he cleared the whole simulation. Solo."
Rheya blinked. "Wait—what?"
"No squad. No support. Just him. And they weren't praising him. They sounded… confused. Like it shouldn't have been possible."
Torren stared. "That test's built for squads."
Veil nodded. "Exactly. There's a reason we train in teams. No one's supposed to solo it."
Veil exhaled through his nose. "Our final sim? It was just one fight—that chimera boss. Four-man squads. Standard setup."
Torren nodded. "Yeah. Basic loadouts, evac protocols, instructors monitoring everything."
Rheya added, "Still wasn't easy. They said it was tuned to max aggression."
Veil looked toward Kaelen's empty seat. "And he passed it solo. No team. No backup."
They all went quiet again.
Rheya exhaled. "Maybe that's why Caldera took him in."
Torren crossed his arms. "She's the only one who treats him like more than a threat."
Veil's voice dropped slightly. "Tomorrow's our first real dungeon, right?"
Torren nodded. "Yeah. Academy zone. Portals are already active."
Rheya added, "Which means full containment. Monitored entry, beacon anchors, and safety ports in case things go wrong."
"Still not risk-free," Veil muttered. "Miss a checkpoint, lose signal, or lag behind the rescue ports—and you're done."
Then he added, more quietly, "And the level stat? It's not power. It's absorption. The system tracks how much mana your body takes in after real kills."
"Simulations don't count," Rheya said. "No actual death, no mana release—so there's nothing to absorb. No EXP, no level."
Torren's voice tightened. "Which means tomorrow's our first real chance to change that."
Veil glanced at Kaelen's seat one last time. "If he fights solo again… no one to share the kills, no one to draw from the impact—"
"He'll absorb everything," Rheya finished. "All of it."
They didn't say anything after that. They didn't need to.
They were worried. About Kaelen. And what he really was about to do.