I found Skylar next.

Her presence was smoke and shadow, ephemeral and hard to pin down even through our bond. She was still in bed, probably scowling at the ceiling and contemplating the meaninglessness of existence while simultaneously planning what dessert shop to rob later. I didn’t send a thought toward her. Just observed the steady rhythm of her breathing, the lazy contentment of someone who had decided the world could wait a few more hours.

She was fine. Alive. Whole. That was enough.

Emi burned bright in my awareness like a miniature sun, her presence pure warmth and uncomplicated joy. She was in the kitchen making something that involved way too much sugar if the spike of excitement in her emotions was any indication. Her happiness leaked through the bond like sunshine through a window, making me smile without consciously deciding to.

Akari was chaos incarnate, her presence feeling like fireworks and lightning storms and every other metaphor for barely controlled explosive energy. She was texting someone—probably Hikari, definitely planning something that would either be brilliant or get us all killed. Possibly both.

And Cel.

Cel felt like ice with a molten core. Controlled and precise on the surface, her thoughts moving in ordered, logical patterns. But underneath that crystalline exterior burned something hot and desperate and painfully human. She was in the showers now, the water temperature probably set to just below freezing because that’s who she was.

I pulled back from all of them, letting the connections settle into background noise—a constant awareness of their locations and general emotional states without the intrusive detail of reading their thoughts. That’s what Sovereign’s Mandate did. It turned my bonds into tactical awareness, into a network that let me know where my people were, what they were feeling, and most importantly, whether they were safe.

And when they weren’t.

Creepy, Nel observed with far too much amusement.

"Useful," I corrected.

Same thing, really.

The door burst open with enough force to make me jump.

Soomin stood in the doorway, back in full control of her body with her pink hair damp like she’d just showered. Her gradient-blue eyes were bright and clear, no trace of the Fox’s predatory gold lurking in their depths. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

"Sorry about earlier!" she blurted, her hands clasped in front of her in a gesture of apology.

"It’s fine."

"The Fox gets territorial! She thinks everyone is trying to steal you!" The words came out in a rush, like she’d been rehearsing them. "She doesn’t understand that you’re allowed to have other friends and she shouldn’t try to mark you like property and I’m really, really sorry!"

"I know. It’s okay."

"I brought this!" She held up a small bag with the kind of earnest enthusiasm that made it impossible to be annoyed. "Dried squid! From home! My mom sent it in a care package!"

The peace offering was so genuine it hurt to look at directly.

"Thanks, Soomin."

"You’re welcome!" She bounced on her toes, her entire body practically vibrating with barely contained energy. "Can I watch you train? The Fox wants to see what you learned while we were gone and I promised I’d let her observe as long as she stayed quiet!"

Great. An audience.

"Sure."

She settled on the bench cross-legged, her hands folded in her lap like a good student preparing to learn from a master. Her eyes tracked every movement as I went through forms, testing my new ceiling and getting a feel for what my body could do now.

My stats had jumped to 6,250 across the board at Level 3, and the difference was staggering. Every punch felt heavier, like I was moving through thicker air that amplified rather than resisted my strikes. Every kick was faster, my legs snapping out and back with mechanical precision. My body moved like it remembered something I’d never learned, muscle memory from a life I’d never lived.

Soomin watched with increasing focus, her casual observation gradually transforming into something more intense. Her eyes began to glow—just slightly, that telltale sign that the Fox was pressing close to the surface without fully emerging.

"You’re different," she said, her voice carrying a dual quality that suggested both personalities were speaking.

"How so?"

"Stronger. Faster." She tilted her head, the gesture distinctly inhuman despite her human form. "Smell different too. More... dangerous."

"Good different or bad different?"

"Dangerous different." She smiled, and it was the Fox’s smile worn on Soomin’s face—all teeth and predatory appreciation. "The Fox likes it. Smells like you could actually protect us now."

Of course she did. The Fox had always been pragmatic about power.

I grabbed my water bottle and drank half in one go, my throat parched from the extended training session.

"How were the missions?" I asked.

"Loud. Sweaty. Hikari tried to fight everything with a pulse and several things without one." Soomin’s expression turned sheepish, her own personality reasserting dominance. "I froze twice. Just completely locked up when a D-Rank rushed me. Marco had to cover for me both times."

"You’ll get better."

"You think so?"

"I know so. The Fox is strong, Soomin. You just need to learn to trust her without losing yourself."

She beamed, the expression transforming her entire face into something radiant.

"The Fox says thank you for believing in us."

"Tell the Fox she’s welcome."

"She also says the cat smells like trouble and lightning and that you should be more careful about what you bring into your shadow."

"She’s not wrong."

Soomin giggled, the sound bright and clear and almost painful in its innocent joy.

I checked the time on my phone. 7:43. Seventeen minutes before Braxton’s meeting. Barely enough time to shower and pretend I hadn’t spent the morning getting my ass kicked by Raphael and testing abilities that shouldn’t exist.

"I need to clean up."

"Okay!" Soomin hopped off the bench with renewed energy. "I’ll go help Emi with breakfast! She’s making pancakes and she said I could help flip them even though I burned them last time!"

She left with the same enthusiasm she’d arrived with, her pink hair bouncing with each step.

The door clicked shut behind her.

I stood alone in the gym, surrounded by the lingering scent of sweat and effort and the faint ozone smell that Maki’s transformations always left behind. My new abilities had been tested and confirmed working. My bonds were solid, the connections humming with healthy strength. My body ached in ways that felt almost good—the deep muscle soreness that came from pushing past previous limits.

Wednesday was coming.

Reyna was coming with her lightning and her arrogance and her absolute certainty that she was better than me.

And I had exactly seventy-two hours to figure out how to beat someone who’d been training for this her entire life while I’d been sitting in a basement eating instant ramen and hating the world.

You’re smiling, Nel observed, her tone carrying notes of amusement and concern in equal measure.

"Am I?"

Like an idiot about to do something monumentally stupid.

"Probably am."

Good. The Audience loves stupid. They live for it.