He looked around lazily and saw Mary lying toward him. She was inspecting him, her gaze soft and curious as she reached for his face, for the fog that clung to it. He startled her, suddenly moving to gently brush her hand away. Then he reached out, his fingers brushing the torn fabric of her robe near her waist.
Mary's breath caught. A deep crimson blush swept across her cheeks, her mind leaping to a wild, flustered conclusion. She felt her heart beat a little faster, a warm, hopeful tension swelling in her chest as she thought, just for a moment, that he might be reaching for her.
But he wasn't reaching for her. His touch was careful and precise, his fingers deftly plucking a small, smooth stone from a hidden seam in her garment, the recording stone the professors had given them to tally their kills. He had seen it peeking out earlier, the same stone he had thrown to her before. He held it up between them, his expression as calm and unreadable as ever.
Mary's blush deepened, now tinged with embarrassment at her own hopeful assumption. She looked down, a shy, quiet smile touching her lips despite herself.
He sat up, ignoring the lingering ache in his muscles, and simply held the stone in his palm.
Part of him wanted to absorb the fate essence stored within it, it would be a decent boost. But they needed the recorded kills to secure their ranking in the Cleansing. A more practical thought followed: if they couldn't properly handle a C+ golem out here, how were they supposed to safely navigate the Epsilon Rift, their real objective? For him, it was no problem. For Brian, Garfield, and Mary... he doubted they'd be more than cannon fodder.
He looked back at Mary. She had Awakened as an Illuminated. Right here, without even entering a proper rift. That was impressive. Maybe they could... he paid the thought no further mind. He focused on the stone, willing it to activate.
*4524*
The number glowed inside the stone. Mary stared, her eyes wide. In the distance, the change in the forest's ambient noise was noticeable. The oppressive silence was lifting.
Lucid stood, brushing dirt from his clothes. Brian and Garfield were approaching, their expressions completely different from before. The hex was gone. Brian's face was full of open, guileless concern. Garfield looked hesitant, ashamed.
"Mary, I... I am so sorry," Garfield said, the words stumbling out. He wouldn't meet her eyes. "What I said earlier... that was vile. I don't know what came over me. Truly."
Mary looked down at the moss, then gave a small, reluctant nod. She didn't trust herself to speak to him yet.
Lucid, meanwhile, shot her a sharp glance. Though his features were obscured, the message was clear: *Do not speak of this. Do not mention anything.* When Brian and Garfield looked to her for an explanation of the battle-scarred clearing, she simply said, "We beat it. Together." She didn't mention it was C+. She didn't mention Lucid's impossible resilience. She didn't mention the purple fire.
Lucid showed them the counter. "We're good," he said flatly. "More than enough."
Their relief was cut short as the discussion turned to the other thing they'd discovered. The dead body. The demi-human boy with the silver badge, mangled beyond recognition.
"We have to report it to the academy," Mary said, her voice thin. "Someone died out here."
Garfield, falling back into his theatrical persona now that the hex was broken, threw his hands up. "Eureka! But how did you get so many points? This clearing is a mess!"
Lucid lied without blinking. "Found a nest. Punched a lot of unfaithfuls. The spear broke." He nodded to Garfield. "Your advice on thrust angles was useful." It wasn't, but the compliment made Garfield preen.
Mary, however, was watching Lucid, reassessing him. Who *was* this transfer student? He had enrolled with no notable feats, no remarkable background. Yet he showed such terrifying, quiet promise. He wasn't Illuminated, she would have sensed that, and yet he could seemingly heal from anything. Was it a relic? And he moved through the upper district like he owned it. He was an odd, enticing puzzle, a piece that didn't fit the picture. She scratched at a cut on her arm, thoughtful.
Lucid pointed back toward the path they came from. "We're heading back. The Cleansing is over for us." He then gestured to Mary. "And it's because of her. Mary's a Latent now."
Garfield's face flashed with jealous theatrics, quickly masked. Brian, his big face breaking into a grin, patted Mary on the back so hard she stumbled. "That's amazing! I knew you had it in you!"
Mary managed a shy, uncertain smile, unsure what to say. She had Awakened in a moment of pure terror and despair. It didn't feel like an achievement.
Meanwhile, Lucid continued forward, leading the way back. The Cleansing had come to an abrupt and bloody end. They had encountered something far from normal. Luckily, they were alive. The same couldn't be said for the individual they'd discovered.
As they walked, Lucid turned the murder over in his mind. The brutality of it was vile, twisted. It wasn't just a kill; it was a message. He wasn't mad at the perpetrator, he felt nothing for the victim, but the method was disgustingly excessive. He suspected the killer was a member of the Fenshore house, given the location and the sheer, cruel confidence it implied. He wouldn't enact revenge. He didn't care. In fact, it made his own mission simpler. He had a blueprint to steal from them. A little internal chaos in House Fenshore could only help his plans.
But things were starting to stray from his original purpose. He was getting tangled in academy politics, making… acquaintances, and now covering up the true details of a near-disaster. He needed to refocus. Steal the blueprint, find Ayame, and get out. Everything else was just noise.
They exited the blue gloom of the forest and stepped back into the sharp, artificial light of the academy's staging grounds. The air here felt thin and stale compared to the charged atmosphere they'd left behind. A handful of other teams were already gathered, looking tired but mostly whole. Professors milled about, checking counters and making notes.
They were, Lucid noted with complete indifference, the dead last to return. A team of black badges, standing neat and clean near the front, turned as one to look at them. Alaric was among them. His nose was bandaged, a white strip across his face that made his scowl even more pronounced. His eyes, full of pure scorn, locked onto Lucid. He leaned over and muttered something to the girl beside him, a black-haired black badge named Clarissa, whose pretty face was a mask of cold curiosity.
'How is he still alive?' Lucid picked up the whispers with his ears, but through the faint, instinctive flow of the Chain of Heart. It was a useful trick sometimes, heightened perception.
'No, how are *they* alive?' another member of their group, a stocky boy, muttered with clear confusion.
'We cast a hex on them, didn't we?' Clarissa's voice was a sharp, annoyed whisper. 'That should have made them argue and wander apart. Easy pickings for the stronger unfaithfuls.'
So it hadn't been bad luck or random forest magic. It had been orchestrated. A deliberate act of sabotage meant to get them killed or at least fail miserably. Lucid filed the information away. It was not surprising, just confirmation of the pettiness and cruelty that seemed to be the academy's core curriculum.
They approached the grading professor. There was the scarred man with the grimace. The scarred professor's single good eye widened slightly as he took in their condition. Brian was supporting Mary, who was pale and leaning heavily on her broken staff. Garfield looked shaken, his usual theatrical confidence gone. Lucid just looked strange. His outfit was full of holes, clear signs of having been stabbed, and yet beneath each tear, his skin was untouched, clear and pristine, reflecting the light back at them. But they were all alive.
The professor offered a thin, genuine smile. "Team Four of Class A. You are just in time. Had you been later by mere minutes, you would have been disqualified." He consulted his ledger. "Your counter is... sufficient. You are qualified for the upcoming expedition into the Epsilon Rift."
Before he could say more, Mary stepped forward, her voice trembling but clear. "Professor. We found something. In the forest. A body. One of the students. A silver badge. He was... it was horrible."
The professor's smile vanished. A hush fell over the nearby teams.
But before the professor could respond, an elegant woman who had been observing from the sidelines glided forward. She wore the subtle insignia of a senior administrator, her posture perfect, her expression one of polite, detached concern, she had pink haired bangs, red eyes and skin clear as snow, her demeanour was chilling. She placed a gentle hand on the stern professor's arm, a gesture that somehow silenced him.
"Young lady," the administrator said, her voice smooth, "the stress of the Cleansing can warp perceptions. The blue forests are treacherous. It is a tragic but documented fact that weaker students sometimes... push beyond their limits. Accidents happen." She gave a sorrowful little shake of her head. "To suggest anything more is to invite needless panic and cast aspersions on what was, for most, a successful exercise."
Her gaze swept over them, lingering for a fraction of a second on Lucid's mist-shrouded face before settling on Alaric's group. "In fact, House Fenshore has already generously offered to cover the costs of the recovery and any... counseling for the affected families. A noble gesture, acknowledging the inherent risks we all take for the strength of Vex."
Lucid watched her. He saw through the polished words as if they were cheap glass. She wasn't explaining; she was burying. She was covering for them. The hex, the murder—it was being swept under the grand, blue rug of academy protocol. Alaric stood a little straighter, a smirk tugging at the corner of his bandaged mouth. His bet had been covered by his house's influence and this administrator's willing hands.
The professor with the scar looked from the administrator to Mary's determined, ashen face, then down at his ledger. Conflict warred in his single visible eye. Duty against politics. Finally, his shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. "The administrator is correct. The forest is... unpredictable. A full report will be filed, of course. For now, your team is dismissed. Rest. Prepare for the Epsilon Rift."
He turned away, effectively ending the discussion.
Mary opened her mouth to protest further, but Brian put a large hand on her shoulder and gave a slight, warning shake of his head. Garfield just stared at the ground, looking sick.
Lucid said nothing. He had expected nothing less. Justice was a fairy tale told to children and fools. What mattered was the result: they were qualified. The murder was someone else's problem, and the administrator had just confirmed the Fenshore house's guilt and their protection in one breath. It was useful information.
As they turned to leave, Alaric couldn't resist. As Lucid passed, he leaned in, his voice a venomous hiss meant only for him. "Lucky, mist-face. Don't get used to it. The rift won't be so... forgiving."
Lucid didn't even break stride. He didn't look at Alaric. He just kept walking, his mind already turning over the new variables. The Epsilon Rift. A sanctioned mission. A perfect place for an "accident" if their black-badge friends decided to try again. And the Fenshore house, now confirmed as both ruthless and politically shielded. His path to their blueprint just got a little clearer, and a lot more dangerous.
He glanced back at his team. Mary was simmering with quiet fury. Brian looked worried. Garfield was ashamed. They were all thinking about the dead boy, about the injustice.
Lucid wasn't. He was thinking about the next step. The only thing that ever really mattered.