I Copy the Authorities of the Four Calamities

The heavy, spatial-lock door of the medical ward hissed open before the Headmistress's starlit scent had even faded from the room. Vane did not need to look up to know who it was. The air in the room did not just move; it ignited.

"If you're dead, I am going to kill you myself," Ashe Razar growled.

She was the first through the door. She had finally ditched that charred leather gear for a simple black training shirt and loose trousers. Her obsidian horns were vibrating with a low, restless hum. Her red eyes were blown wide with a mix of fury and a relief she would never admit to. Behind her, Valerica Sol walked with her usual predatory grace. She had swapped her golden plate for a crisp white silk blouse and tailored slacks. Isole Sylvaris brought up the rear in a soft lavender robe. None of them were carrying weapons. They looked like students instead of soldiers for the first time in weeks.

Vane sat on the edge of the recovery bed, pulling the white silk robe tighter around his shoulders. The liquid mana from the tank had finally drained, leaving his skin tingling with the residue of high-grade healing catalysts. He felt like he had been put through a meat grinder and stitched back together with mana-thread: fragile, but functional.

"I'm alive, Ashe," Vane rasped, his voice sounding like two stones grinding together. "Stop shouting. My head feels like Isaac used it for a drum."

"He did more than use it for a drum," Ashe marched up to him, plopping down in the chair beside the bed. She looked as though she wanted to shake him and wrap him in a blanket at the same time. "The monitors went white. The Hub is a literal crater. Isaac Glacium is in the next wing over looking like he tried to hug a sun, and you are sitting here complaining about a headache? You look like a half-drowned cat."

"And you look like you actually found a shower," Vane countered with a weak grin.

Valerica reached for the bedside table, picking up Vane's sleek, black student tablet. She tapped the screen and slid it across the sheets toward him. "You should see this for yourself. The faculty just pushed the final update."

Vane looked down at the screen. The gold letters of the Zenith crest shimmered at the top, followed by the individual rankings of the first-year class.

Zenith Academy: Individual Standings

1. Vane (Team 5)

2. Isaac Glacium (Team 1)

3. Anastasia Aurelia (Team 2)

4. Valerica Sol (Team 5)

5. Isole Sylvaris (Team 5)

6. Ashe Razar (Team 5)

"The top of the board is purple and gold," Ashe said, a savage, prideful grin splitting her face. "The nobles are losing their minds. They are calling it a fluke, but the points do not lie. You are the King of the Hill now, Vane. Isaac is at Rank 2 and he looks like he swallowed a lemon."

"Rank 4," Valerica mused, her expression unreadable. "My father will be conflicted. To be Rank 4 is an honor, but to be Rank 4 behind a commoner is a scandal that the Sol family has not seen in three centuries. He is probably halfway here already."

"I do not care for the number," Isole said, her voice soft as she stepped to the side of the bed. Her lavender hair drifted as if underwater. She reached out, her cool fingers brushing the pulse point on Vane's neck to check the flow of his mana-veins. "I only care that the thread of your fate did not snap. You used the Ghost, Vane. Your soul almost tore itself out of your chest to sustain the logic of that waltz."

Vane looked away, his gaze drifting to the window where the spires of Zenith pierced the clouds. Isole was right. He had felt it: the way the Usurper authority had groaned under the weight of Senna's prime logic.

He thought back to the boy who had stepped onto the Zenith docks months ago. That version of Vane had been a rat. He had viewed the academy as a grand treasury to be looted, a place to steal enough power and prestige to ensure he never had to sleep in the Oakhaven mud again. He had arrived with the mentality of a scavenger, a thief looking for a payout.

But Senna had changed that. She had not just taught him how to thrust a spear; she had beaten the "Rat" out of him. She had forced him to look at the world not as something to hide from, but as something to conquer. He was no longer looking for a score. He was looking at a team of monsters that belonged to him.

He felt a strange warmth in his chest as he looked at the three women standing around him. They were the people who had stood their ground to protect his broken body.

"You are staring," Ashe said, her voice dropping some of its bark. She crossed her arms, her horns dimming to a soft, rhythmic glow. "What? Is your brain finally scrambled from the mana-recoil?"

"I was just thinking," Vane said, his voice stronger now. "About how much I used to hate people like you. High-born geniuses with everything handed to them."

Valerica arched an eyebrow. "And now?"

Vane looked at her: the Solar Princess who had stood between him and a blade when he was helpless. "Now, I think I would be very annoyed if anyone tried to take you away from this squad. You are my vanguard."

Ashe snorted and looked away, though the tips of her ears turned a darker shade of red. Isole simply nodded, as if this were a truth she had already foreseen in the stars. Valerica maintained her regal composure, though a small, satisfied smirk played at the corner of her lips.

"Good," Valerica said, stepping back and smoothing out the silk of her blouse. "Because the time for sentiment is over. Headmistress Evangeline was just here, was she not? She mentioned the Winter Gala?"

"She did," Vane confirmed.

"It is the event of the year," Valerica warned. "The most powerful families on the planet are arriving at these docks. They are coming to see the anomaly who took Rank 1. They are coming to see if you are a threat to be shackled or an error to be erased. We have to look the part."

She walked to the door, pausing as she looked back at Vane. Her golden eyes were sharp and calculating.

"You have proven you can fight like a god in the mud, Vane. But now you have to prove you can stand among the suns without burning up. You are the Rank 1 of Zenith Academy. You cannot meet the world's elite looking like a patient in a bathrobe."

Valerica's smirk widened.

"Get up, Vane. We are going to the Golden Needle. It is time for you to buy a suit."