Lucid pulled on the gym clothes and stared down at himself. White shirt, black shorts. 'This is humiliating,' he thought. Not because of the clothes themselves, they were functional, but because walking around the Academy of Vex in borrowed gymwear with a silver badge pinned to his chest felt like wearing a sign that screamed Commoner. He'd seen other students with multiple pristine uniforms. He had one set. One.
'Great,' he thought flatly as he approached the sprawling field. 'Just great.'
The field was massive. A dirt track circled the perimeter, and students in identical white shirts and black shorts were already running laps, kicking up dust with every miserable step. Girls wore similar outfits, their shorts slightly longer. Everyone looked like they'd rather be anywhere else.
"Hey, you! Silver badge! What are you standing there for? Go and run!"
Lucid turned. The teacher was an old man with a round belly that strained against his belt and a face so red it looked like an overripe tomato. Sweat stains darkened his shirt even though he was just standing there, yelling.
'Can't he remember my name?' Lucid thought as he jogged toward the track. 'It's Lucid. Three syllables. Not that hard.'
He fell into step with the other runners. The first lap was nothing. The second was fine. The Chain of Heart hummed quietly in his chest, feeding him a steady flow of stamina he hadn't earned. He passed a few students who were already panting, their faces flushed.
Then he saw Mary.
She was struggling badly. Her glasses sat crooked on her face, fogged with sweat and bouncing with each jarring step. Her breathing came in short, desperate gasps. Her shirt was soaked through, clinging to her skinny frame. She looked seconds from collapse.
'Looks like her only strong suit is books,' Lucid noted distantly as he passed her.
Then he spotted someone else. Another silver badge, much further back, moving at a pace that could barely be called a run. Each step seemed to shake the ground. Sweat poured off him, drenching gym clothes that strained over a large, round body.
"My… my," Lucid muttered.
The boy was big. Not just tall, but genuinely large. His brown hair was plastered to his forehead. His face was round and friendly, dimples showing even through his obvious exhaustion. And despite everything—the sweat, the struggle, the pain—he was smiling.
Off to the side of the track, a group of students lounged in the grass. Black badges. Three girls and two boys, relaxing in the shade as if they were at a picnic. None of them were running. None were even pretending to participate.
They were throwing pebbles.
"Come on, fatty! Move it!"
A small rock flew through the air and bounced off the large boy's shoulder. He flinched but kept going.
"You're slowing everyone down!"
Another pebble hit his leg, then his back. The boy kept running, his expression still weirdly cheerful.
Lucid slowed as he approached. He didn't know why. He should've kept running. Kept his head down. Minded his own business.
A pebble flew past his head and struck the boy square in the shoulder.
"Oi! Over here, you fat pig!"
Another rock came flying.
"Hey, mist-face! You slowing down to match the pig's speed?"
Lucid glanced over. The black badges were grinning, hands full of pebbles. One of them, a blonde boy with sharp, unpleasant features, wound up and threw another. It hit the large boy in the back of the head with a dull thunk.
'Just ignore it,' Lucid told himself. 'Not your problem.'
But his feet slowed to a walk. Then stopped.
The large boy noticed and slowed too, chest heaving. "Hey… hey there," he gasped. "You… you okay?"
Lucid blinked. "Am I okay? You're the one getting pelted with rocks."
The boy laughed, actually laughed, as if being stoned was funny. "Oh, that? Yeah, they do that sometimes. It's fine. I'm Brian, by the way." He stuck out a hand, palm slick with sweat.
Lucid stared at it for a moment, then shook it. "Lucid."
"Cool name! You're new, right? Haven't seen you around."
"Yeah. First day."
Another pebble flew, hitting Brian in the back of the head with a sharp crack. One struck Lucid's shoulder a second later, stinging through the thin fabric.
"Oi! Keep running, you disgusting lump! And take your freak friend with you!"
Brian turned and waved. Actually waved, like they were old friends saying hello across the street.
Lucid stared. "Don't you ever get tired of that?"
"Of what?"
"Them. Throwing stuff. Calling you names."
Brian shrugged, his whole body jiggling with the motion. "I mean, yeah, it sucks. But what am I gonna do? If I stop, they win. If I keep going, at least I'm doing something, you know?"
Lucid didn't know. The logic made no sense. But something about that stubborn cheerfulness in the face of cruelty felt familiar. Distant memories surfaced—Earth. Being unawakened. The way people looked at him like he was worthless. Excluded him. Mocked him. Treated him like something they'd stepped in.
Those memories were buried deep, packed under layers of apathy. But watching Brian's smile pulled them back up.
'He's just like I was,' Lucid thought. 'Except he's smiling about it. Why the hell is he smiling?'
Another pebble came flying, bigger and jagged, aimed right at Brian's face. Lucid's hand shot out on instinct and caught it mid-air, the rough edges digging into his palm.
The black badges stared. Brian's eyes went wide.
"Whoa! That was amazing! How did you—"
"Lucky catch," Lucid said quickly, tossing the rock aside. "Come on. Let's keep running."
Brian's face lit up. "You… you want to run with me?"
"Why not."
"Okay! Yeah! Let's do it!"
They started jogging together. Brian's version of jogging was more of a fast waddle, his body swaying side to side. Lucid matched his pace with what felt like the slowest jog in history. He could've walked faster. But he didn't.
"So," Brian huffed between breaths. "What… brings you… to the academy?"
"Long story."
"I got time."
"You can barely breathe."
"Multitasking!"
Lucid let out a short, surprised laugh. The absurdity of it—running in circles while getting stoned, and this guy was trying to have a conversation.
"Lucid," Alice chimed in his head, soft and knowing. "You're doing it again."
'Doing what?'
"Being kind. Even when you try not to be."
'I'm not being kind. I'm just running.'
"Sure you are."
Another pebble flew. Lucid sidestepped it without breaking stride. One came at Brian; Lucid's hand shot out and caught it again.
"Stop wasting our ammunition, idiots!" a black badge yelled. "They're not worth it anyway!"
They made it around another lap. Brian was slowing, his face bright red, breathing ragged. His legs wobbled.
"You okay?" Lucid asked.
"Yeah… just… need a second…"
Brian stopped, bending over with his hands on his knees, his whole body shaking.
"Hey! No stopping!" the red-faced teacher bellowed from across the field.
"He has a name," Lucid muttered.
Brian looked up, sweat dripping from his nose. "What?"
"Nothing. You need water?"
"There's… a fountain… over there…"
Lucid followed his gaze. The fountain was positioned right next to where the black badges lounged in the shade.
'Of course it is.'
"Come on," Lucid said, putting a hand on Brian's damp shoulder.
They walked over together. The black badges watched them approach, expressions shifting from boredom to predatory interest.
"Oh look, the mist-face and the pig are friends now," a dark-haired girl said, voice dripping contempt.
"Match made in silver badge heaven," another giggled.
Lucid ignored them. Brian bent and drank in long, desperate gulps, water spilling down his chin.
One of the black badge boys stood. It was the same blonde one from earlier—Alaric. Lucid recognized him now. The same one who'd shoved him in the hallway, who'd taken Mary's glasses. The memory was fresh and unpleasant.
"You know," Alaric said, looking down at Brian like he was inspecting garbage, "you really shouldn't encourage him. Fat people like that should just give up. It's embarrassing to watch."
Brian's shoulders tensed.
"He's trying," Lucid said, his voice flat.
"Trying?" Alaric laughed, his friends joining in. "Look at him. He's disgusting. A waste of space. And you're not much better, mist-face. What's wrong with your face anyway? Hiding scars? Burn marks? Or just that ugly?"
'Don't react,' Lucid told himself.
But then Alaric reached out and poked Brian hard in the stomach. "See? Like jelly. Gross."
Brian flinched away.
"Leave him alone," Lucid said.
Alaric turned to him, smirking. "Or what? You're just a silver badge. You can't do anything to me. You're nothing. Less than nothing." He shoved Lucid's shoulder—a dismissive, insulting push. "What, you gonna cry about it? Cry for me, mist-face."
Lucid looked at him. Really looked. He could see the elevated heart rate, the excitement of the confrontation. The grey threads of fate around Alaric were thin, weak. E-rank. A latent. Barely awakened.
'I could break his nose,' Lucid thought distantly. 'One punch. Maybe two.'
"Lucid," Alice warned sharply. "Don't."
'I know.'