Two days after the duel, the academy still hadn't settled.
Murmurs followed Marek through the halls. Some were awestruck. Others, hostile. Most were silent—but silence could be sharp too. Sharper than words.
The Grid hadn't updated. No rank. No classification. Still a Null.
But Marek wasn't invisible anymore.
And he hated it.
That afternoon, he found himself back at the cracked courtyard behind the West Wing.
The sun hung low. Warm light spilled between the broken columns, and birds nested in the rafters of the ruined training scaffolds. This place felt abandoned by the system, forgotten by the ranks.
It felt like his.
He sat on a worn stone bench, arms draped over his knees, letting the silence settle in.
A breeze stirred the dust, and with it came footsteps.
"Should've known you'd come here," Arden said, flopping down beside him with a sigh. "Brooding under the sunset. Classic post-duel protagonist behavior."
Marek raised an eyebrow. "I'm not brooding."
"You're brooding."
A beat passed. Then: "You okay? "
He didn't answer right away.
"I don't know," he said eventually. "I'm… not used to people looking at me. Especially not like I'm a walking bomb."
"They've always looked at you," she said. "They just didn't admit it."
Marek exhaled through his nose.
Arden kicked a loose pebble. "You scare them. And you should. You didn't play by the rules, and somehow you didn't die."
"Is that why you stick around? "
She looked at him sideways. "I like broken things."
He gave her a faint smile.
"I'm serious," she said. "You don't fold the way you're supposed to. Neither does Junic."
As if summoned, the blindfolded boy appeared from the path beyond the columns, arms full of wrapped packages.
"You two are dramatic," Junic said as he approached. "I brought food."
They spread the parcels across the stone slab.
Flatbread. Dried fruit. Salted meats and tangy leaf wraps from the market at East Gate. Arden lit a small campfire rune, and the three of them sat in its warm glow, the sunset fading into deep blue around them.
"I was thinking," Junic said, unwrapping a peach. "We need a name."
"A name? " Marek asked.
"For the three of us. You know, if we're going to start toppling the foundations of magical society, we should at least sound cool."
Arden rolled her eyes. "How about 'People Who Don't Want to Die'?"
"Too long," Junic said. "And not enough edge."
"'The Null and Company'?" Marek offered, dryly.
Arden grinned. "Sounds like a terrible band."
Junic nodded. "Perfect."
They laughed. It wasn't loud or long, but it was real.
As the firelight danced, Marek glanced at them both. Arden, reckless and brilliant, throwing barbs like weapons but always there when it mattered. Junic, calm and strange, hiding truths behind that blindfold and somehow always a step ahead.
They weren't just company.
They were his anchor.
"I don't want to be a weapon," Marek said quietly.
Arden stopped chewing.
"I don't want to be used," he added. "By the Council. By whatever's inside me."
Junic's voice was soft. "Then we help you stay human."
Marek looked up.
"That's what friends are for," Junic said.
They stayed like that until nightfall.
When they finally packed up, Arden bumped her shoulder against Marek's. "Next time you nearly die, give us more warning."
"I'll put it on my calendar," he muttered.
"Good."
Junic lingered behind, collecting the fire rune and erasing traces of their presence.
Marek walked a few steps ahead, and that's when he noticed her.
A figure stood beneath the arches of the upper walkway, leaning against the stone like a statue carved from moonlight.
She didn't speak.
Just watched.
Long pale hair shimmered under the lanterns. Her uniform was pristine, House Solarin, the crystal-light division. A rank band glowed faintly on her collar.
Aurellia Vex. Rank #19. One of the academy's top ten duelists.
Marek paused.
She stepped forward. "That was a dangerous thing you did, Vales."
Her voice was calm. Controlled. Like someone who thought through every syllable before letting it leave her mouth.
"I didn't have a choice."
"There's always a choice. Even when the system pretends otherwise."
Marek watched her carefully. "You were there? "
She nodded once. "I saw what you did. What you didn't do. And what the Grid couldn't explain."
"And what do you think I am? "
Her gaze sharpened, but not cruelly.
"I think," she said, "you're going to break something important." And I haven't decided yet if I should stop you or help you."
Marek met her eyes.
A moment passed. Charged. Unreadable.
Then she turned and walked away.
Marek stood alone for a while longer, heart steady but uncertain.
Then he whispered into the wind, more to himself than anyone
"I haven't decided either."