I headed downstairs with Maki trailing behind me, already regretting every decision that led to this moment. Each footstep echoed in the empty stairwell, a metronome counting down to the inevitable chaos that followed this familiar around like a curse.

The common room was mostly empty when we reached the ground floor.

Too early for the breakfast crowd—the social butterflies who treated every morning like a networking opportunity.

Too late for the insomniacs who’d given up on sleep entirely and were probably face-down in their textbooks somewhere on the fourth floor.

Just me, a bakeneko in borrowed athletic shorts that did absolutely nothing to hide her curves, and the kind of silence that made my skin itch with anticipation.

"Transform," I said flatly.

"But Master—" Maki’s voice took on that whining, sultry quality that meant she was about to argue. "I could just stay like this. It’s more comfortable. More... intimate."

"Cat. Now."

Maki’s pout could’ve melted steel. Her lower lip jutted out, her hazel-gold eyes going wide with theatrical betrayal. For a moment, she looked like I’d just told her the world was ending.

Then she shimmered.

Darkness swirled around her form like liquid shadow, responding to her will.

The familiar blur of her transformation twisted reality for half a second, bending the light in ways that made my eyes water if I looked too directly at it.

When it cleared, a sleek black cat with two tails sat primly on the hardwood floor, her fur gleaming like polished obsidian in the morning light.

Those hazel-gold eyes stared up at me with pure, unadulterated accusation.

You’re cruel. You’re the worst master in the history of masters. I hope you know that.

"You’ll live," I said, fighting the urge to smirk.

The cat huffed—actually huffed, like an offended noblewoman at a social slight.

Then she padded toward the couch with exaggerated dignity, each paw placed with feline precision. Morning light pooled across the cushions in thick golden bands, streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the academy’s eastern gardens.

She hopped up with effortless grace.

Circled twice, testing the surface.

Then settled into a perfect loaf position with both tails curled around her body like matching question marks.

Sunbathing.

Like she hadn’t just been naked in my room five minutes ago, trying to convince me that "morning exercise" was a vital part of our bond.

Like she wasn’t a literal supernatural murder-cat masquerading as a common housecat.

I needed to test the new abilities. The divine haul from Apollo’s banner was burning a hole in my consciousness, each new power demanding attention like unread notifications I couldn’t dismiss.

Lightning Rod hummed beneath my skin with the promise of catching storms, of turning Reyna’s greatest weapon into my ammunition.

Kinetic Absorption waited patiently to turn every hit into fuel, transforming pain into power with cold mechanical efficiency.

Steel Body sat coiled like a spring, ready to turn me into a walking tank for exactly ten seconds—ten seconds that could mean the difference between victory and humiliation.

But most importantly, Sovereign’s Mandate pulsed with the weight of five bonds pulling at my consciousness like gravitational tides.

I could feel them.

All of them.

Natalia somewhere in the east wing, probably already awake and planning her day with ruthless efficiency. Her presence felt like cold fire—controlled, intense, completely focused.

Skylar probably still asleep with her headphones on, her consciousness a lazy, contented hum. She’d stayed up late working on gear designs again, lost in her creative process.

Emi in the kitchen, already prepping something that would feed an army because that’s what she did when she was nervous. Her presence was warm, bright, like standing near a fireplace.

Celeste studying in her room—always studying, always trying to prove herself worthy of something she’d already earned. Her consciousness felt like winter moonlight: beautiful, distant, perfect.

Akari texting someone, her presence lighter than the others, more playful. Probably coordinating gossip with Hikari, the twin hivemind already working overtime this early.

The connections thrummed like guitar strings, each one resonating at a slightly different frequency.

Each one a thread connecting me to someone who’d decided I was worth the trouble.

Worth the risk.

Worth everything they’d given me.

Careful, Nel whispered, her voice carrying a note of genuine concern. You’re broadcasting. They can feel you reaching out. Natalia’s already looking up from her book, wondering what you’re doing.

I pulled the feeling back immediately, compressing it like I was closing a fist.

Made it quieter.

More controlled.

The last thing I needed was all five of them converging on the common room demanding to know why I’d just psychically poked them before breakfast.

The common room door opened, cutting through my concentration.

Celeste walked in wearing simple academy sweats and carrying a book—something dense and academic, probably about advanced cryokinetic theory or historical Gate classifications. Her silver-white hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail that made her look younger, more vulnerable.

No makeup.

No performance.

No ice princess mask.

Just Celeste, the girl who’d decided to trust me with pieces of herself she’d never shown anyone else.

She noticed Maki immediately, her periwinkle eyes widening with delight.

"Oh."

Maki’s ears perked up, swiveling toward the new arrival.

Celeste approached the couch with careful steps, moving with that unconscious grace that came from years of etiquette training. "May I?"

The cat chirped—a bright, friendly sound that was apparently universal cat language for "yes, peasant, you may worship me with pets."

Celeste sat beside Maki with a soft smile and began petting her with gentle strokes along the spine, her touch practiced and sure. "She’s beautiful," she said, her voice carrying genuine warmth. "What’s her name?"

"Maki," I said simply.

"Unusual name for a cat." Celeste scratched behind Maki’s ears with the confidence of someone who’d grown up around expensive pets. "Where did you find her?"

"She found me."

"Strays usually do around you." She glanced up, and there was something knowing in her expression—like she’d already figured out half the game and was waiting for me to confirm the rest. "Are you going to tell me she’s also soul-bonded to you?"

My eye twitched despite my best efforts to remain impassive.

"She’s a familiar. Different mechanics. Different kind of bond."

"But still yours."

"Yeah."

"Good." Celeste returned her attention to Maki, who was now purring so loudly it sounded like a small motorcycle engine. "At least this one can’t steal you for midnight conversations about death gardens."