The class found themselves in a new part of the campus, a building distinctly separate from the rest of Arkphis Institute’s sprawling grounds. The structure was sleek and circular, its exterior made of black stone flecked with veins of shimmering gold that pulsed faintly, as though alive with energy. A massive emblem of an octagon, each side etched with a different symbol, was carved into the double doors leading inside. Above the doors, the words "Nine-Step Hall" were engraved in flowing script, their golden inlay catching the morning light.
As the students entered, they were greeted by a spacious, dome-like interior bathed in a faint golden glow. The walls of the room were a smooth, polished obsidian, their surfaces alive with shifting runes and faint geometric patterns that pulsed in sync with the rhythmic hum of Divinity in the air. Suspended high above the center of the room was a massive, rotating 3D projection of the Nine-Step System, much like the diagram they’d seen in their textbooks but brought to life with vibrant detail. Each of the nine sides of the octagon displayed a glowing glyph accompanied by its name, written in elegant, flowing script.
Shān: A sturdy, unyielding symbol that radiated durability and steadfastness, evoking the image of unbreakable armor.
Ma': A fluid, rippling glyph that pulsed faintly, representing the restoration of one’s own vitality through self-regeneration.
Ku: A warm, steady glow that emanated a soothing aura, symbolizing the ability to heal others’ injuries.
Som: Its lines were sharp and unbreakable, evoking the image of a protective shield that could repel both physical and Divinity-based attacks.
Verz: A darker, flickering glyph that exuded an aura of disruption, representing the ability to weaken and debilitate opponents.
Langt : This glyph stretched outward in a radiating pattern, embodying enhanced precision and control over long-range attacks.
Rye: A bold, aggressive symbol that pulsed with raw energy, representing heightened physical strength and force.
Sho: Its lines curved upward, embodying speed, agility, and the freedom of movement.
Sía: The glyph shimmered with an ethereal quality, its lines fluid and ever-changing, representing heightened awareness and precognition.
The room itself was clearly designed for practical instruction. Around the perimeter, various training stations were set up, each tailored to one of the Nine Steps. Students could see reinforced platforms for Rye, designed to test and enhance raw strength, while sleek running tracks curved around the outer edges of the hall, glowing faintly with Divinity for Sho training. Nearby, there were long-distance targeting dummies stationed against the far wall for Langt, the glowing orbs embedded in them designed to track accuracy and control.
For Shān, a series of heavy, blunt objects hung from chains, designed to crash down onto students to test their durability under pressure. Flowing water channels carved into the floor pulsed faintly with light for Ma', their Divinity-infused currents aiding in self-healing practice. Adjacent to that, the Ku station featured a series of mannequins that glowed faintly red, simulating injuries for students to heal.
A series of shimmering, translucent walls near the center of the room marked the Som area, the barriers designed to test students’ ability to maintain stable defensive structures. For Verz, glowing dummies with artificial Divinity were scattered in an isolated corner, each dummy calibrated to react dynamically as students practiced weakening their targets. Finally, the Sía area stood in stark contrast to the others: a ring of mirrors and unpredictable movements, designed to test and sharpen a student’s awareness and reflexes in simulated combat scenarios.
The air buzzed faintly with the weight of the concentrated Divinity, pressing subtly against the students’ senses, a constant reminder of the power they were expected to wield.
Fil stood at the center of the room, arms crossed, his expression as unimpressed as ever. The faint golden glow of the hall illuminated the harsh lines of his face, making his scowl all the more pronounced.
Ajal, already struggling with the early hour, let out another long yawn. His hair remained its usual chaotic mess, and he didn’t even seem to register the grandeur of the room.
Fil’s sharp eyes locked onto him immediately, and his lips twisted into a frown. “Ajal,” he snapped, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the room. “You’re not in your dorm anymore. Stop acting like you just rolled out of bed.”
Ajal blinked, sluggishly raising his head. “Huh?”
Fil pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly holding back his irritation. “Get used to mornings. The world doesn’t wait for you to wake up. Every second you waste being tired is a second someone else is getting ahead of you. Keep this up, and you’ll lose more points than you’ll ever earn back.”
Ajal gave a half-hearted nod, barely paying attention. Fil let out a sharp, exasperated sigh before turning to address the rest of the class.
“This is the Nine-Step Hall,” Fil said, his tone curt and devoid of warmth. “From now on, this will be the most important facility for your training at Arkphis. You’ll spend a lot of time here—assuming you’re competent enough to make it through the basics without embarrassing yourselves.”
He gestured toward the glowing octagonal projection above them, his eyes narrowing. “Before we begin, I want to make sure all of you know exactly what you’re dealing with. Who can tell me what the Nine-Step System is?”
The students exchanged hesitant glances, reluctant to draw Fil’s attention. Finally, Vail raised his hand.
“It’s a system that enhances specific aspects of the human body,” Vail said, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. “It uses the user’s Intrinsic Divinity to improve physical and mental capabilities.”
Fil stared at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned back to the rest of the class.
“How many of the Nine Steps can a person have?” he asked, his voice sharp.
Zee, lounging lazily in her seat near the back, raised an eyebrow. “Wait, aren’t you even going to tell Vail if he got it right?” she asked, her tone playful.
Fil’s head snapped toward her, and the room seemed to grow colder. He took a step in her direction, his gaze so piercing that even Zee’s confident smirk faltered.
“My job,” Fil said, his voice low and icy, “isn’t to hand out gold stars for answering basic questions. My job is to make sure you all know how to use the system so you don’t make fools of yourselves later. If you want praise, you’re in the wrong class.”
The room fell into a brief silence as Fil’s question hung in the air. Finally, Jean raised his hand, his voice calm but confident. “Three. A person can normally have three Steps at most.”
Fil’s gaze turned to Jean, his expression unreadable at first. Then, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re both right and wrong,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact but with the faintest hint of amusement.
Jean raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
Fil stepped toward the center of the room, his boots clicking softly against the polished floor. He gestured toward the massive glowing projection of the Nine-Step System overhead. “For most people, three is the limit. Any attempt to go beyond that will cause irreparable damage to the body and mind. You’ll burn out your Intrinsic Divinity and destroy yourself. Simple as that.”
The class murmured among themselves, but Fil’s raised hand silenced them. “However,” he continued, his voice sharp, “there are exceptions. Some people, myself included, have surpassed that threshold.”
There was a collective pause as the students registered what he’d just said.
“You’ve gone above three?” Ezekiel asked, his tone curious but cautious.
Fil turned his sharp gaze to Ezekiel, the faint glow of the runes on the walls reflecting in his tired eyes. “I have,” he said bluntly. “I know five Steps.”
This revelation sent a ripple of surprise through the students. Ajal, half-awake until now, perked up slightly.
“How’s that possible?” Ezekiel pressed, his brows furrowed.
Fil waved a dismissive hand, cutting him off. “Don’t concern yourself with that until you can master a single Step. You’re all here to learn the basics, not to compare yourselves to me.”
The students quieted, some visibly deflated, but Fil wasn’t done. “Because your limit is three, I’m giving you the freedom to choose which ones you learn. Choose wisely.” His gaze swept over the class, the weight of his words sinking in. “I’ll answer your questions—begrudgingly—but don’t waste my time with stupidity. Now think it over.”
With that, Fil stepped back, crossing his arms as he watched the students begin to scatter toward the training areas.
Ajal nudged Cassian, and the two began making their way toward the Rye section. The reinforced platforms gleamed faintly under the golden light, their surfaces etched with runes that seemed to pulse in anticipation.
Yumiko approached Ajal as they walked, her expression curious. “How’d you decide so fast?” she asked, tilting her head.
Ajal shrugged. “The diner,” he replied simply. “It’s gonna need me to learn it.”
Cassian stopped in front of the platforms, staring at the heavy blocks suspended by chains. His eyes narrowed as he studied them, and after a moment, he turned toward Fil. “Professor, what does the training for Rye entail?”
Fil didn’t hesitate, his tone as sharp as ever. “It’s straightforward. You’ll start by focusing your Intrinsic Divinity into raw force. The goal is to break the reinforced blocks on the platform. You’ll fail. Repeatedly. But eventually, if you don’t quit, you’ll feel the shift when your Divinity aligns with the Step.”
Cassian adjusted his glasses, his expression equal parts determined and nervous. “And… how do we know when we’re doing it right?”
“You’ll know,” Fil said, his tone clipped. “The block will break, and you won’t.”
Cassian gave a slow nod, taking a deep breath as he turned back to the platform.
Sosira sauntered up to Fil, her sharp claws clicking against the floor as she stopped in front of him. She stood tall, her skull-like mask tilted slightly forward, the crimson glow of her eyes shining with faint excitement. “Hey, professor,” she said, her rough voice full of her usual confidence, “I already know three of the Steps.”
Fil blinked, the surprise flickering across his face before his usual scowl returned. He crossed his arms, studying her for a moment. “You know three already?” he asked, his tone skeptical.
Sosira nodded firmly, her tail swishing slightly behind her.
“Well,” Fil said, his voice sharp and direct, “if you want to try learning a fourth, that’s your decision. But I’m not responsible for what happens if you screw up and fry your Intrinsic Divinity. You understand that, don’t you?”
Sosira’s grin widened under her mask, and she nodded again. “Got it. I’ll take the risk.”
Fil sighed and gestured for her to move on. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t come crying to me if it doesn’t work.”
Satisfied, Sosira turned and walked back toward Molly and Jin. Molly raised an eyebrow as Sosira rejoined them, her purple eyes curious. “So, which ones do you know?” she asked.
Sosira shrugged casually, her spiked shoulders rising and falling. “Dunno. My mom told me I had ‘em. Never really thought about it much.”
Molly couldn’t help but chuckle at her bluntness, and Jin’s shoulders shook in silent laughter. Sosira tilted her head slightly, her crimson eyes flickering in amusement. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Molly said, shaking her head with a grin. “You’re just... you.”
Fil let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he muttered something about how the day couldn’t get any longer.
Before he could regain his composure, Rayven and Kiera approached him.
Rayven’s usual playful smirk was in full effect as she leaned slightly toward Fil. “Hey, Professor,” she said, her tone light and teasing, “what are the easiest Steps to learn? Y’know, for us kids who don’t want to break anything.”
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Fil’s scowl deepened as he let out a sharp “tch,” his annoyance palpable. “You kids these days need to learn to read your textbooks. It’s all in there,” he grumbled, before reluctantly continuing. “There are three levels of difficulty. The easiest ones are Rye, Sho, and Shān. Then there’s Langt, Ku, and Som. And finally, the hardest ones are Sía, Ma’, and Verz.”
Rayven grinned. “Thanks, Professor. You’re the best.”
Fil glared at her, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t push it.”
Next to her, Kiera crossed her arms, her expression already sour. “Why do you always have to ask such stupid questions, Rayven?”
Rayven gave her a cheeky smile. “Well, someone has to ask them for you~”
Kiera’s face turned bright red, her hands balling into fists. “What?! You wanna die or something?!”
Before Kiera could lunge at her, Rayven took a quick step back, laughing as she darted away. “Only if you can catch me~” she called over her shoulder, her tone light and teasing.
Kiera growled in frustration, chasing after her with determined strides. “Get back here, you idiot!”
Ezekiel, standing nearby, had been listening to the exchange with a thoughtful expression. He glanced up at the glowing glyph for Sía, its shimmering lines radiating an ethereal energy. After a moment of consideration, he nodded to himself. “Sía,” he muttered under his breath. “That’s the one I’ll aim for.”
Not far away, Yumiko had her eyes fixed on the glyph for Sho, its curved lines embodying speed and motion. A small smile played across her lips as she made her decision. “Sho’s a good fit for me,” she said quietly to herself.
Jean, meanwhile, was deep in thought. His gaze flicked between the glyphs and Arc, his mind clearly turning over something important. “How does the Nine-Step System even work with Avatars?” he asked aloud, his tone curious.
Arc blinked, caught slightly off guard. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice thoughtful. “Even though I’m an Avatar, I’ve never really thought about it.”
Fil, who had been observing the pair from a distance, spoke up, his voice cutting through the quiet. “That’s a question for Lucius,” he said curtly. “But I can tell you this much—an Avatar’s Intrinsic Divinity is just a copy of their master’s. So whatever Step your master uses, you’ll gain the same enhancement.”
Jean nodded slowly, taking in the information. “Makes sense,” he said. He turned to Arc, his expression curious. “What do you think would be best for us?”
Arc frowned slightly, her gaze drifting to the glowing glyphs overhead. She thought back to her fight with Sosira during the entrance exam, her mind replaying how her punches had done little more than bounce off the Drapabarn’s tough, armored body.
“Rye,” she said after a moment of consideration. “If we’d had more strength back then, we might’ve stood a chance.”
Jean nodded in agreement, his expression resolute. “Rye it is, then.”
The two of them made their way toward the reinforced platforms, joining Ajal and Cassian, who were already sizing up the training area.
The room buzzed faintly with leftover energy as the students wrapped up their training at the Nine-Step Hall. Each one had spent hours pushing themselves at their chosen station, their bodies and minds working overtime to grasp the nuances of the Steps they’d selected. Some showed progress, while others were left frustrated and exhausted.
Time flew by, and before long, the students trudged their way back to the main building for their next class. The walk felt endless, their limbs heavy and their energy completely drained.
When they entered the classroom, they found Professor Miki waiting for them, perched gracefully at the edge of her desk. She wore her signature fox mask, its ornate black surface etched with swirling red and yellow patterns that seemed to shimmer faintly in the light. Her orange kimono, accented with floral designs, gave her an air of calm elegance that contrasted sharply with the disheveled and weary students filing into the room.
The moment they slumped into their seats, Miki chuckled softly, the sound light and melodic. “I always love seeing everyone after their first Nine-Step class,” she said, her voice carrying just enough teasing warmth to draw a few half-hearted groans from her audience. “The exhaustion on your faces tells me Professor Fil hasn’t lost his touch.”
She stood and walked to the front of the room, her kimono flowing around her like liquid silk. Bowing her head slightly in greeting, she spoke with a tone that was both welcoming and commanding. “It’s a pleasure to finally hold my first class with Arkphis Institute’s 99th class. I am Professor Miki, though some of you may know me by my title: the Future’s Visionary.”
At her words, a few heads perked up, though the majority of the students remained slouched, too tired to fully register her introduction.
Miki gestured to the fox mask on her face, her delicate fingers tracing the patterns on its surface. “This mask is my Gift,” she explained. “While wearing it, I can see the potential that resides inside anyone I look at. What you might become. What lies dormant within you. But it does more than just see.”
The room seemed to still as her words sank in. Even the most exhausted students were paying attention now, the weight of her statement cutting through their fatigue.
“I can also draw out that potential,” Miki continued, her tone even but firm. “However, I very rarely do so. There are countless problems that arise when someone is simply handed power they haven’t earned. Growing into your strength is always the correct way. Your potential isn’t just about raw power—it’s about the journey you take to reach it.”
Her eyes, visible through the mask’s slits, scanned the room. “That said, there may be situations—extreme emergencies—where I’ll have no choice but to draw out a student’s potential. If that moment ever comes, you must be ready.”
Ezekiel, sitting with his arms crossed and his head resting on the back of his chair, raised a tired but curious eyebrow. “So, what’s my potential then?” he asked bluntly.
Miki tilted her head slightly, the faintest hint of a smile visible beneath the mask. “The only way for you to know,” she replied gently, “is to reach it yourself.”
Ezekiel frowned, clearly dissatisfied with the cryptic response. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer that matters,” Miki said, her voice unwavering. “And I promise you, it’s one worth discovering.”
Ezekiel sighed and leaned back in his chair, clearly annoyed but not willing to argue further.
Miki turned back to the rest of the class, her eyes sweeping across the tired but attentive students. For a moment, the air seemed lighter, as though her calm presence was enough to push back the weight of their fatigue.
With introductions out of the way, Miki clasped her hands together, her tone bright yet focused. “Now that we’ve all gotten acquainted, let’s begin. Since you all come from different backgrounds in education, we’ll start from the basics.”
She took a step forward, her fox mask tilting slightly as she scanned the room. “Let’s start simple. Who can tell me the two types of Divinity?”
Molly raised her hand almost immediately. “There’s Intrinsic Divinity and Atmospheric Divinity,” she said, her voice steady. “Intrinsic is the Divinity within a person, and Atmospheric is the natural Divinity in the air.”
Miki nodded approvingly. “Good. Now, which type of Divinity does a Gift use to activate?”
Molly raised her hand again, and Miki gestured for her to speak. “It’s a mix of both,” Molly said. “How much of each depends on both the user and the Gift.”
Miki’s eyes crinkled behind her mask as she gave a soft clap of approval. “Very good. It seems you’re quite informed, Molly.”
Molly puffed out her chest with pride, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “My mentor taught me well,” she said confidently.
Before Miki could continue, Ajal raised his hand. “Professor,” he began, “how can I learn Divinity Locking quickly? My job kind of requires it.”
Miki tilted her head slightly, her interest clearly piqued. “Ah, so you, Cassian, and Molly are the ones who got hired at the Eclipse Diner. I was planning to bring this up with you three later, but since you’ve asked, this is the perfect time.”
She gestured for everyone to stand. Though groans of fatigue rippled through the room, the students complied, their curiosity outweighing their exhaustion.
“Divinity Locking,” Miki began, pacing slowly as she spoke, “is a technique used to not only hide one’s presence but also defend against certain Gifts that target the mind. While difficult to master, it’s a valuable tool.”
Stopping at the center of the room, Miki closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, her movements slow and deliberate. The room fell silent as everyone watched her intently.
As she exhaled, a faint gust of wind rippled outward from her position. It was gentle, but strong enough to stir everyone’s hair and clothes slightly. The atmosphere in the room shifted subtly, as though a thin veil had been drawn over everything.
When the students looked back at where Miki had been standing, she was gone.
“What?!” Cassian blurted, his head swiveling in confusion.
“Where did—” Ezekiel started, only to stop mid-sentence when Miki’s voice came from behind them.
“Here,” she said, her tone light and amused.
All heads snapped around in unison, finding Miki standing casually near the back of the room. Her hands were clasped neatly in front of her as though she hadn’t moved at all.
Several students gasped, while others simply stared, wide-eyed.
Miki chuckled softly at their reactions as she made her way back to the front of the class. “That,” she said, “was the result of Divinity Locking. By temporarily suppressing my Divinity, I became nearly undetectable. Not even the Atmospheric Divinity around me could give away my position.”
Her golden eyes flicked over the group, amused by their stunned expressions. “Now, I want you all to give it a try.”
Groans and murmurs filled the room, the students clearly daunted by the prospect.
“Don’t overthink it,” Miki continued, raising a hand to calm the noise. “It’s much like holding your breath underwater. Imagine the Atmospheric Divinity around you as water, and your lungs as your Intrinsic Divinity. Just as you wouldn’t want water filling your lungs, you must learn to block the Atmospheric Divinity from mixing with your Intrinsic Divinity.”
She paused, giving them a moment to absorb her words. “Focus on that feeling. It will be awkward at first, but with practice, you’ll get the hang of it.”
The students exchanged uncertain glances before closing their eyes and beginning to concentrate, their breathing slowing as they attempted to replicate the technique.
Minutes passed, and the classroom grew heavy with exhaustion as the students continued their attempts to lock their Divinity. Molly, in particular, was visibly frustrated, her face flushed and her breathing heavy. She clenched her fists, glaring at the floor as if it had personally wronged her.
Miki chuckled softly, breaking the tense silence. “Patience,” she said, her voice light. “It’ll take time, I promise. No one gets this on their first try, and that’s okay. I’ve never had a class—”
Before she could finish, Ajal suddenly appeared beside her.
“Professor,” he began, his voice casual, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Miki instinctively leapt back, her body moving into a defensive stance. Her sharp reflexes caused the hem of her kimono to flutter as she raised one arm in a guarded position.
The entire class froze, staring at Ajal in stunned silence.
Ajal tilted his head, confusion evident on his face. “Uh… did I do something wrong?”
Miki blinked, then lowered her guard, her expression shifting to one of bewilderment. She straightened, brushing off her kimono to regain her composure. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to… sneak up on me,” she admitted, her chuckle carrying an edge of disbelief.
Ajal scratched his head. “I’ve been standing here for a while trying to get your attention.”
The room fell into an even deeper silence as the other students processed his words.
“You’ve been there for a while?” Ezekiel asked, his voice filled with disbelief.
Miki, breaking into a loud, uncharacteristic laugh, clapped her hands together. “Well, well! Congratulations, Ajal! You just accomplished something I’ve never seen a student do on their first day.” She gestured to the class. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a prodigy among us.”
Ajal blinked, still looking a little lost. “Wait… I did?”
“Yes, you did,” Miki said with a grin, crossing her arms. “Divinity Locking on your first try? That’s no small feat.”
Cassian’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? He pulled it off that fast?”
Ajal glanced around, noticing the shock and awe on everyone’s faces. “I mean… I guess? Your metaphor with the water really helped.”
Miki laughed again, clearly impressed. “Well, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you? So, what was it you wanted to ask?”
“Oh, right.” Ajal nodded, his expression shifting to one of slight embarrassment. “I, uh… I’ve been having trouble drawing out my Gift’s power. I was wondering if you had any advice.”
Miki tapped her chin thoughtfully before responding. “Since metaphors seem to be your think; drawing out your Gift is like working with a muscle. If you tense up, it doesn’t move properly. You’re overthinking. Trust your instincts, let it flow naturally, and stop forcing the process.”
Ajal nodded, clearly taking her words to heart. “Got it. Thanks, Professor.”
Miki smiled under her mask. “You’re welcome. But one last question—how did you manage to lock your Divinity so quickly?”
Ajal scratched the back of his neck. “Honestly, I don’t really know. I can’t put it into words, but… the water metaphor just clicked. It felt like second nature, like something I already knew how to do.”
Miki tilted her head, intrigued, but didn’t press further. “Well, whatever it is, it worked. Good job.”
As Ajal returned to his seat, he pondered her advice. Meanwhile, Molly glared at him, her expression a mixture of contempt and disbelief.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered. “You can figure that out in five minutes, but you still can’t activate your Gift properly?
Ajal laughed nervously. “What can I say? I’ve always been able to learn things without really knowing how.”
Molly rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, but said nothing more.
The class continued with Miki guiding the students through more basics, though none managed to replicate Ajal’s feat by the end of the session.
When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of class, the students dragged themselves out of their chairs, exhaustion written on their faces.
As Ajal, Molly, and Cassian made their way to the door, Molly turned to them with a stern look. “Don’t forget—don’t be late for work later. Got it?”
Cassian raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Didn’t expect you to be such a stickler for timing.”
Molly crossed her arms. “My mentor taught me the importance of being on time. It’s basic discipline.”
Ajal nodded. “Got it. I’ll see you both later.” With a wave, he headed off to meet the rest of Team Z.
Ajal found the rest of Team Z waiting in the hall, their tired expressions matching his. Yumiko perked up at the sight of him, her eyes bright with curiosity.
“So,” she said, her voice teasing, “Molly seems to be warming up to you.”
Ajal grinned and puffed out his chest. “Nah, she probably hates me even more now.”
Yumiko laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t get it but, good for you!”
Ezekiel, walking a few paces ahead, glanced back over his shoulder. “Can we save the chatter for later? Let’s get moving.”
As they walked down the hall together, Ajal turned to the group. “So, how’s everyone’s job going?”
Jean, who was visibly tired but still smiling, spoke first. “It’s tiring, but pretty fulfilling. Both Arc and I are learning a lot.”
Arc nodded in agreement, her expression calm but content.
Yumiko’s face lit up with excitement. “I’m having a blast! I even got to meet Kyosho Takeda!”
Jean raised an eyebrow. “Kyosho Takeda? That's the guy who owns the company right?”
Yumiko grinned. “Yep! He's given us a contest to design some clothing for a model.”
Jean whistled, clearly impressed. “That sounds exciting.”
Turning to Ezekiel, Jean asked, “What about you? Got a job yet?”
Ezekiel scoffed, his tone dismissive. “I’ve got more important things to do.”
Yumiko tilted her head. “Like what?”
Ezekiel’s gaze darkened slightly, and he didn’t answer right away. “Can’t tell you,” he said curtly.
Yumiko shrugged, brushing it off. “Suit yourself.” She then turned to Ajal. “How’s the diner?”
Ajal stretched, his muscles aching slightly. “It’s a lot of work, but otherwise, it’s been fine. Guess we’ll see how it goes tonight.”
The group continued down the hall, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors.