After training, I went to dinner, later than the others.

They were laughing, talking—until I walked in. Their voices cut off like a blade through cloth. Selena sighed. Sighed. As if seeing me was disappointing.

A pang of something sharp rippled through me, but I kept the mask on.

I collected my meal—a medium-rare steak, salad on a separate plate. Didn’t want the blood getting into the greens. Then I sat.

They were still watching.

“I trust you all trained well,” I said evenly. “We wouldn’t want to embarrass ourselves in the tournament. I shall see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

For some reason, they took this as their cue to leave.

Whenever Mother said something similar, people stayed. They fought to tell her about their training, to prove themselves. Why didn’t they do the same for me?

They filed out. All but one.

Selena lingered by the door, one hand on the frame, fingers flexing like she was debating something. Her weight shifted from one foot to the other, and for a brief second, she half-turned toward me. Her eyes met mine.

A flicker of warmth passed through my chest. An overwhelming need for connection fled through me. Sit. Stay. Say something. Say anything.

It would be easy. A single question, a comment, a nod even.

But then her gaze dropped as she sighed, again. She gave a slight shake of her head and then turned and walked through the door.

I felt a shadow crawl over my spine, pain leaking through every piece of me.

But I straightened. No. This was right. They respected me too much to sit with me. Too afraid to disappoint me.

This is good. This is good. I repeated to myself as I tore into the steak, chewing slowly, the taste feeling almost bitter on my tongue.

I forced myself to swallow, setting the knife down with precision. Across the empty dining hall, the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen echoed back at me, filling the silence they had left behind.

I finished my meal alone.

Then I stood, pushed my chair in, and walked out.

The halls were quieter at this hour, the lights dimmer, the tower settling into its usual nighttime rhythm. Footsteps, distant voices, the low hum of life just out of reach. I passed no one on my way to my room.

I reached my room and locked the door behind me, walking to the empty whiteboard hanging on the wall. It was time to go through the matchups.

There would be six of us in the tournament. I wrote the other high rankers' names at the top of the board, and for the contestant that would rise up, I just wrote B ranker, the name unimportant for now.

For my first match, I could go with myself versus Bongi. He was easily countered by any source of light, making him the safest option.

I needed to speak with Slava—he could help ensure that I skipped the second round. Since the six-versus-six format would result in an odd number, one contestant would automatically advance. Obviously, that would be me. Skipping a match would give me the chance to gather far more information by watching whoever won.

Who am I kidding? Neither Viktor, Bongi, nor Selena could beat Calder. I needed to start preparing for him now.

I reiterated my earlier observations from sparring, reminding myself to avoid any grappling against him. Just to reinforce the thought, I scribbled a note on the right side of the board:

NO CLOSE COMBAT WITH CALDER!

Next, I wrote down another matchup: Me vs. Selena. Absolutely NOT!

If I fought Selena in the first round and then skipped the second, it would look too easy—too convenient. Like I was being prepared for victory. At first glance, it might seem like an easy way to advance: fight the only healer, then face Calder. But that would actually put me at a disadvantage. I didn’t want to repeat the mistake I made during my introduction—being caught off guard by too many unfamiliar faces. I could acclimate better by fighting a slightly tougher opponent first before dealing with him.

I circled Selena’s name. If she wasn’t going to fight me, who should she fight? Maybe the B-ranker who would ascend? No. That would just inflate their ego—winning against the healer, someone who couldn’t even fight back would make the B ranker think they were bigger than they were.

Right then.

Viktor could face the B-ranker. Calder could face Selena.

I smiled at my own genius. Giving Calder an easy opponent would lull him into a false sense of security, making him more predictable. That would give Viktor a better chance of dragging out the fight and forcing Calder to reveal more of his tools.

I would need to speak with Johannes. He could design the perfect countermeasures to Calder’s ability. Flashbangs were an obvious choice. Armor wouldn’t hurt either. But then it hit me—Calder’s fire was powerful enough, but it wouldn't even matter if he just shot me at the start of the match.

Okay. Armor would help, but I needed more. Smoke grenades could impair his vision while simultaneously highlighting him when he used his ability.

And then, a thought struck me.

What puts out fire?

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

A fire extinguisher.

I could just ask Johannes to make grenades that dispersed fire-extinguishing foam everywhere. And not just for this fight—it could be useful in emergencies throughout the tower. Maybe even across all of Kaleidos.

Feeling satisfied, I went to bed.

I would need to get access to the file that housed the matchups. The Colonel had said only he and the administrator could change it. That meant I would need the same permissions—or, as much as it grated on me, the Colonel’s assistance—to ensure the matchups went in my favor.

I hesitated. Should I call Mother? Should I give in to what the Colonel wanted?

No.

I banished the thought. He would get nothing from me. Not after the dismissal.

I woke up too early. By the time I got up for breakfast, I was the only one there. Again. I needed to have a serious conversation with the others about their tardiness.

After eating, I walked to the warehouse, intending to do some runs before gathering intel on the B-ranks. But as soon as I stepped through the door, my stomach dropped.

The Colonel was here.

Colonel Walker lounged in the middle of the room, seated on a chair, watching the door.

I walked in, and he raised an eyebrow.

Immediately, I rushed over and saluted, my voice loud and clear. “Good morning, Colonel!”

He nodded, satisfied. “I see you’re here early. I'm glad. You may relax for now.”

I did as I was told, but I wasn’t looking forward to the day anymore. The Colonel rarely came by, but when he did, it never led to anything good.

I started stretching, trying to prepare myself, warming up my muscles.

One by one, the other high rankers walked through the door. Each of them froze the moment they saw the Colonel, sighed, and then marched up to salute, just as I had. He nodded at each of them in turn, acknowledging them with his usual respect.

Then Calder arrived.

He stepped through the door, froze, and paled at the sight of Walker.

The Colonel barely looked at him before stating, “You were last. Give me five pushups.”

Five? I almost cringed. He was the most physically capable among us, so it shouldn’t be too bad, but I still pitied him.

Calder snapped into a salute, shouting, “Yes, Colonel!” before dropping onto his hands.

His face twisted in confusion as he raced through the five pushups, like he was waiting for the weight to hit him. Then he stood back up, hopeful, as if he’d been given an easy out.

The colonel simply looked at the ceiling, shaking his head as if looking for an answer, “Calder. I did not tell you to start.”

Calder’s face drained of color. Without hesitation, he got back into position, waiting.

The Colonel smacked himself lightly on the head, like he’d just remembered something. “Oh! My mistake—I forgot. You’re a team.”

His voice remained casual, almost amused.

“To rectify his behavior, all of you will do ten pushups.”

I heard Selena groan.

We all lined up next to Calder, dropping onto our hands, waiting.

The Colonel tapped his armrest, then pointed a lazy finger at us. “I want to hear you. And if one of you drops, you start again. Begin.”

The weight hit like a truck.

It felt like an entire car had been dropped onto my back.

“One!” we shouted, lowering ourselves in sync. My arms trembled just from the lockout.

“Two!” we cried, pushing back up.

The Colonel’s voice echoed through the hall. “Viktor didn’t go low enough. Start again.”

We reset.

We got to three before Selena collapsed beside me.

“Selena dropped. Start again.”

We got to two before his voice rang out again.

“Bongi dropped. Start again.”

One by one, we broke.

Only Calder and I remained.

My arms shook. My shoulders screamed. But I refused to lose.

I still remembered watching Calder run past me. Watching the civvie run past me. Never again. I would not lose again.

I felt like my back was being crushed. My arms strained past their limit.

On the sixth restart, I couldn’t hold it anymore. I collapsed, falling flat on my face.

“Sofia dropped. Start again.”

I gritted my teeth. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I had trained for this since birth—so why was I on my face, gasping for air like a dog? Shame burned through me as we reset.

“One!” we shouted, pushing ourselves up again.

It took ten attempts before none of us could lift a finger, let alone do a pushup.

The Colonel looked almost annoyed. “I am disappointed. You can’t even do ten pushups. Why do you think you can command armies when you can’t even do ten pushups? Stand.”

At his words, the weight lifted. Air rushed back into my lungs, and all of us gasped, finally able to breathe.

But I knew better. We weren’t done.

We staggered to our feet just as the Colonel spoke again. “Let’s see if your running is any better.”

At least the weight wasn’t on us this time. That meant he was waiting for his power to recharge. I really hoped it wouldn’t.

We ran.

Every step felt like a rebellion. My lungs burned, screaming to be coughed up rather than endure another lap. But I pushed the feeling down and kept going.

We moved slowly at first, all of us falling into a loose, unspoken formation. Ten laps in, the Colonel’s voice rose again.

“You aren’t running fast enough. I want three laps done in the next three minutes. Begin.”

We broke into a flat-out sprint.

Calder and Viktor led, neck and neck, followed closely by me. But even with our Blessed bodies, the two-kilometer track was too long to complete in time.

We tried.

At best, we managed a lap and a half before the Colonel’s voice rang out again. “You failed. Get back in line.”

My legs felt like lead.

Each breath tasted like rust.

Even Calder was panting. The rest of us? We had been reduced to staggering messes.

Yet none of us spoke a word of complaint as we lined up.

The Colonel watched us in silence for two minutes, shaking his head every so often, looking at us like we were disappointments.

Then, finally, he sighed. “Right then. Since you can’t run or even do push ups, let’s see if you aren’t completely hopeless at something. Hmm, how about squats? I think it’s the easiest bodyweight exercise, so I’m giving you a nice freebie.” He pointed another lazy finger, as he looked under his fingernails for dirt.

“All I want is five of them. Five squats. That’s all. Do it together. Don’t cheat. If you succeed, I’ll let you go to ability training.”

The weight slammed into us far harder than before, and I felt like I could barely stand let alone do a squat.

And yet, we dropped down together, voices hoarse, barely managing to rasp out—

“One!”