The mood in Hampden House was grim as students shuffled into the homeroom. With Hampden in 4th place, the weight of their last-place ranking loomed over the room like a storm cloud. The top three houses—Lee, Ridley, and Phillips—seemed light years ahead, and every conversation revolved around strategies to catch up or grumbles about the house's position.

Dan, seated in his usual spot near the front and closest to the door, was already settled with a book in hand, ignoring the restless murmurs behind him. Directly behind him sat Celia Princer, her pristine uniform and icy demeanour making her stand out as always. She silently worked through her notes, paying no attention to the ongoing debate.

"Dan," a voice called from across the room.

Dan glanced up briefly as Ashton Taank, with his usual nervous energy, picked up his belongings and shuffled over to sit beside him.

"You don't mind, right?" Ashton asked as he slid into the adjacent desk.

Dan shrugged, turning the page of his book. "Suit yourself."

Moments later, Levy Riverest, and composed, walked over and leaned against the desk in front of Dan. He crossed his arms, his sharp features conveying a mix of curiosity and mild frustration.

"Mind if I join?" Levy asked, his voice low.

Dan tilted his head toward the empty seat. "Be my guest."

Levy nodded and took a seat, his movements deliberate and calm, as though he were always in control.

Meanwhile, at the centre of the classroom, Clara Nightingale was in her element. She stood at her desk, addressing a small group of classmates, her golden hair shimmering in the sunlight streaming through the windows.

"I'm just saying," Clara began, her voice laced with confidence, "if Phillips is falling apart because of that Jaxon guy, we should use it to our advantage. Their chaos could be our opportunity."

"Here she goes again," Lydia Blackwell muttered to Elias, a playful grin on her face.

Elias leaned back in his chair, smirking. "Let her talk. It's entertaining."

"You're all talk, Clara," Julian Cross interjected, leaning forward with his signature mischievous grin. "What's your actual plan? Charm your way into their drama and hope it spills over into XP points for us."

Clara glared at him, but before she could retort, Levy's deep voice cut through the chatter.

"I'm telling you, we need to act now," Clara insisted. "Phillips is a mess! If they keep losing XP points because of Jaxon's drama, we can capitalise on it!"

Lydia Blackwell, sitting next to her, rested her chin in her hand. "Clara, you sound like a scheming villain. Maybe tone it down a little."

Clara rolled her eyes. "I'm serious, Lydia. If we don't start thinking strategically, we'll stay in last place forever!"

Elias, leaning back in his chair with a smirk, chimed in. "Bold of you to assume we have a strategy at all."

Julian laughed. "Yeah, Clara. What's the plan? Talk Phillips to death? Gossip them into submission."

Clara glared at both of Julian, crossing her arms. "I'd rather try something than just sit around doing nothing, like you two."

Levy leaned closer to Dan and Ashton, her voice hushed. "Do you think Clara has a point? I mean, if Phillips is losing points, shouldn't we, um, take advantage of it somehow?"

Dan finally looked up from his book, his gaze steady. "Sure. If your strategy is to hope someone else fails more than you."

Levy pouted, her cheerful tone faltering. "Hey, I'm just trying to stay positive. It's not like we're in a great position to take big risks right now."

Ashton nodded nervously. "Levy's not wrong. If we just avoid mistakes, we won't drop any further, right?"

Celia's voice cut through their conversation like ice. "Avoiding mistakes won't win us anything. If we want to move up, we need to stop focusing on other houses and start fixing what's wrong with Hampden."

Levy winced, her cheer dimming. "That's a little harsh, don't you think, Celia?"

Celia's tone remained flat. "Harshness doesn't matter when it's the truth."

Before the conversation could escalate further, the door swung open, and Mrs. Kiara strode in. Her presence immediately commanded attention, her confident stride accompanied by the faint clink of her coffee thermos. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, taking in the scattered clusters of students.

"Well, good morning, Hampden!" she announced, her voice cheerful but firm. "What's the hot topic today? How to survive last place, or are we finally aiming a little higher?"

The room quieted, though Clara muttered something under her breath.

Mrs. Kiara set her coffee on the desk and clapped her hands together. "Alright, listen up. I know it's easy to blame the system, the other houses, or even the people in our very house for our position. But whining isn't going to change anything."

Her gaze swept across the room, landing briefly on Dan. "And sitting around reading isn't going to help either, no matter how enlightening the book might be."

Dan smirked faintly but said nothing.

Mrs. Kiara continued. "Here's the deal: you're all talented in your own ways. But until you start acting like a team, Hampden will stay exactly where it is—at the bottom. So, figure out how to work together, and do it fast."

She leaned against her desk, crossing her arms. "And don't make me babysit you through it. You're smart enough to know what needs to be done. Now, what are we doing about it?"

The room exchanged uncertain glances, with Clara looking like she wanted to say something but holding back.

Dan leaned back in his chair, glancing at Levy. "There's your answer," he murmured. "Teamwork."

Levy smiled nervously. "Guess we better start figuring that out, huh?"

The bell rang, signalling the end of extended homeroom. Students began filing out of Hampden House's classroom, but Dan, Celia, Levy, Ashton, and a few others lingered by the door. Tension hung in the air, each of them unsure of their next move.

Ashton was the first to speak, looking around at the others. "So, what's the plan here? We can't just sit around and wait for this whole thing to blow over."

Levy nodded, but her expression was hesitant. "Yeah, but what exactly should we do? We don't have a clear picture of what happened with Jaxon and Kael. How are we supposed to figure this out?"

Celia leaned against the wall with a sigh. Her arms were crossed, her usual stoic expression in place. "We could keep talking in circles, or we could get some answers from the source. Kael's the one who's been involved, and he's the one we should talk to. If anyone knows what really happened, it's him."

Dan's eyes flicked up from his book, his mind already processing the situation with cool logic. "Celia's right. We can't keep speculating. We need to go directly to the source. If we want answers, Kael's the person we should be speaking to."

"But what if he doesn't talk?" Levy asked, clearly skeptical. "What if he just brushes us off?"

Dan's response was straightforward. "We won't give him the option to brush us off. We'll get him to talk." His tone left no room for doubt.

Ashton's eyes widened, a little more uncertain. "And if he doesn't want to talk? What then?"

Dan smirked faintly, leaning back in his chair. "Then we make him. If we need to... persuade him, we will." He looked around at the group, his gaze settling on Levy and Ashton. "But we also need to cover our bases. While we talk to Kael, the two of you should focus on gathering any clues that might explain how all of this started. Talk to people. Find out what's been going on behind the scenes. If there's something we're missing, we need to uncover it."

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Levy nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing with determination. "Fine. I'll get to work. I'll talk to some of the others and see what they've heard. Maybe someone knows something we don't."

Ashton hesitated but then agreed. "Yeah, I'll do the same. I've got a few people in mind who might have seen or heard something."

With everyone clear on their tasks, Dan stood up, his posture relaxed but purposeful. "Good. I'll handle Kael. You two work on gathering information. We'll meet back here once we have something concrete."

Celia raised an eyebrow. "What about me?"

Dan gave her a small shrug. "You can come along for the Kael part. But if you're not interested in getting involved, I'm sure you'll find something else to do."

Celia's lips curled into a faint smile. "I'll be there. Someone has to keep you from screwing things up."

Dan and Celia let together at lunch and made their way through the quiet halls of the dormitories, the tension between them palpable as they approached Kael's room. Celia walked a step ahead, her usual composed demeanour slightly off, the frustration she was holding back evident. Dan knew her better than anyone, and she wasn't hiding her irritation well.

Celia broke the silence first. "Do you really think Kael's side is going to be any different?" Her voice was tinged with frustration. "We know he was part of this mess. His pride is just as fragile as Jaxon's."

Dan shrugged, his hands slipping into his pockets, his expression as neutral as always. "We can't take sides until we know the full story; it's that these things are never as simple as they seem."

Celia didn't respond, but the frown on her face deepened. She didn't trust Kael, not after the way things had unfolded—after the fight and the way Jaxon had reacted. But Dan remained unmoved, his only goal being to get the truth.

Dan and Celia stopped at Kael's door. Dan knocked lightly, the sound echoing faintly down the dimly lit corridor. Celia stood beside him, her arms crossed and her sharp gaze fixed on the door, exuding quiet authority.

A muffled voice called from inside. "Come in."

Dan pushed the door open. The hinges groaned in protest, revealing a room in disarray—clothes, training gear, and a stray mana crystal lay scattered across the floor. Kael sat on the edge of his bed, a cold pack pressed against his bruised cheek. His gaze barely flicked up to meet theirs, a mix of frustration and exhaustion shadowing his expression.

Celia stepped in first, leaning against the doorframe with her usual air of cool detachment. Dan followed, his hands in his pockets, surveying the room with an unreadable expression.

Kael broke the silence, his tone defensive. "What do you want?"

Celia's voice was as sharp as her gaze. "Answers. And don't waste our time with half-truths. We know this wasn't just some misunderstanding."

Kael's grip on the cold pack tightened, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "It's nothing. Jaxon's making a big deal out of it, as usual."

"Nothing?" Celia arched an eyebrow. "You and Jaxon nearly coming to blows in the sparring grounds is hardly nothing. Care to try again?"

Dan's voice cut through the tension, calm but firm. "From the start, Kael. What happened?"

Kael hesitated, his jaw tightening as he glanced away. Finally, he spoke, his voice edged with bitterness. "He's been on my case, saying I'm not pulling my weight on the team. Acting like I don't deserve my spot. I didn't even do anything—he's just looking for someone to blame."

Celia tilted her head, her voice as pointed as ever. "And did you give him a reason? Or are you going to pretend this came out of nowhere?"

Kael's glare snapped back to her. "You think I wanted this? I've got enough on my plate without his garbage."

Dan didn't flinch under Kael's glare. "Then why escalate it? Why not walk away?"

Kael's expression darkened. "Walk away?" He let out a harsh laugh. "You think it's that simple? He called me out in front of the entire team. What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and take it."

"Yes," Celia said icily, her tone cutting. "If it meant avoiding this mess, then yes."

Kael's fist clenched, the ice pack slipping from his grip. "Easy for you to say. You don't have people breathing down your neck, waiting for you to screw up."

Dan's gaze didn't waver. "What are you so afraid of, Kael?"

Kael bristled, his voice rising. "Afraid? I'm not afraid of anything!"

"Then why are you so defensive?" Dan asked, his tone steady. "If Jaxon's accusations mean nothing, why let them get to you?"

Kael's anger flared again, but it quickly ebbed into something softer, something raw. His shoulders slumped slightly, and his voice dropped. "Because no matter what I do, it's never enough. Everyone's always watching—Jaxon, the team, the spectators. They think I'm some arrogant show-off who doesn't care about anything but himself."

Celia exchanged a glance with Dan, a flicker of understanding passing between them. She stepped forward, her tone softening just slightly. "And throwing punches is going to change their minds? Prove them wrong."

Kael didn't answer, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Dan took a step closer, his voice quiet but resolute. "If you want them to see you differently, start by showing them something different. Right now, all you're doing is feeding their expectations."

Kael didn't respond, his grip on his frustration loosening. He glanced up, the vulnerability in his eyes a stark contrast to his earlier anger.

Celia straightened, her arms still crossed. "We're done for now. But this isn't going away, Kael. Think about what you really want—because if this keeps up, you're not just proving Jaxon right. You're proving everyone right."

Dan gave Kael a final look before turning to the door. "We'll be back."

They left without another word, the door clicking shut behind them. As they walked down the corridor, Celia glanced at Dan. "You think he's hiding something?"

Dan's lips curled into the faintest smirk. "Everyone is. The question is whether it matters."

Meanwhile, across the dormitories, Luck and Miria made their way toward Jaxon's dorm. The soft echo of their footsteps filled the quiet hall, but the silence between them was heavy, charged with an unspoken tension. Luck's expression remained as unreadable as always, his calm demeanour in stark contrast to Miria's more tense posture. She walked with purpose, her mind already racing through different strategies on how to approach Jaxon.

"Do you think he'll tell us the truth?" Miria asked, her voice low, almost reluctant to speak her doubts aloud. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and her pace was slightly quicker than usual, the tension in her body almost palpable. "Jaxon's pride is arrogant. He probably won't admit to anything unless he has to."

Luck didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained ahead, his features neutral. "He'll tell us his side. We just have to listen for the right things."

Miria frowned at his words but didn't argue. She respected Luck's instincts, but Jaxon's fiery nature and reputation made it hard to imagine him being truthful without feeling cornered. Still, there was no turning back now.

As they arrived at Jaxon's door, Luck knocked softly. Muffled sounds came from inside—shuffling, maybe something being knocked over—before the door creaked open. Jaxon stood before them, his face bruised and his eyes heavy with a mix of exhaustion and smouldering anger. His posture was tense, like a coiled spring, and the flicker of wariness in his gaze quickly gave way to frustration.

"What do you want?" Jaxon's voice was sharp, defensive.

Miria wasted no time, stepping forward with purpose, her voice cool but direct. "We need to hear your side of what happened. You fought Kael, and we need to understand why."

Jaxon's jaw tightened, and his arms crossed over his chest in a defiant gesture. "What do you care? It's not your problem."

"Actually, it is," Luck replied, his tone even. "You're part of Philips House. What happens to you affects all of us to."

Jaxon's scowl deepened. "He disrespected me," he growled, his hands clenching into fists. "He's been running his mouth for weeks. Saying I'm just all muscle, no skill. I'm only good at brute-forcing my way through things. I got tired of it."

Miria's sharp eyes didn't waver. "Did he actually say that?"

Jaxon hesitated for a fraction of a second, his fists tightening further. "Of course he did! You think I'd make that up?" His voice rose slightly, and the flush of anger on his face deepened. "He's been looking down on me since day one. Always acting like I don't deserve to be here. Like I'm just some idiot who got in because I can throw a punch."

Luck studied him carefully, his calm gaze boring into Jaxon's volatile demeanor. "And you thought fighting him would prove him wrong?"

Jaxon bristled at the question, his shoulders squaring as though preparing for a fight. "I didn't start it, alright? He pushed me first. I just finished it."

"You didn't finish anything," Miria interjected coldly, her tone cutting. "If anything, you started it and made it worse. Do you even realise how many people are talking about this now? You handed Kael exactly what he needed to make you look reckless."

Jaxon flinched, the anger in his expression momentarily flickering into uncertainty. But he quickly masked it with another scoff, rubbing the back of his neck roughly. "Let them talk. I don't care. I'm not going to sit around and let someone treat me like trash."

Luck tilted his head slightly, his voice calm but probing. "Are you sure it was just Kael? Or were there others feeding you half-truths to push you into this?"

The question seemed to hit a nerve. Jaxon's expression tightened, his gaze darting to the floor for a moment before snapping back to Luck. "What are you trying to say? That I'm some puppet? That I don't think for myself?" His voice was defensive now, almost desperate.

Miria exchanged a glance with Luck, her own suspicions deepening. Jaxon's reaction told them more than his words ever could.

"You let your pride control you," Miria said bluntly, her voice sharper now. "And someone took advantage of that."

Jaxon's fists clenched at his sides, his whole body radiating barely contained frustration. "You don't know what you're talking about," he snapped, though the unsteadiness in his tone betrayed him.

Luck's voice remained steady, his calm a stark contrast to Jaxon's fiery emotions. "Think about it, Jaxon. You've always been impulsive, quick to react when your pride's on the line. All it would take is a few whispers in the right places to set you off. Whoever did this knew exactly how you'd respond."

The room fell silent, the weight of Luck's words pressing down on them all. Jaxon's jaw worked furiously, but no words came out. His anger was still there, simmering just below the surface, but it was joined by something else now: doubt.

"You don't have to admit anything right now," Luck added, his voice quiet but firm. "Just think about it. You might not be the only one being played here."

Jaxon's gaze dropped again, his fists tightening before he finally spoke, his voice low and bitter. "I'm done talking. You've said what you came to say. Now get out."

Luck exchanged a brief look with Miria, both of them recognising the futility of pushing further. For now, they had enough to work with. As they turned to leave, the tension in the room remained thick, Jaxon's inner turmoil hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break.