I stepped out of the shower, trailing steam like a guilty conscience made manifest.

The mirror had fogged over completely, transforming into a blank white canvas that reflected nothing.

Good.

I didn’t particularly need to confront my own face right now.

Sixty-eight hours remained until Reyna.

Sixty-eight hours to somehow devise a strategy that wouldn’t result in my immediate and spectacular death in front of the entire Academy population, broadcast live for the entertainment of every guild recruiter and faculty sadist on this godforsaken island.

"Master smells significantly better now."

I damn near launched myself out of my skin.

Maki sat perched on the bathroom counter like she owned the place, legs dangling over the edge with the casual confidence of a cat who’d never heard the word "boundaries."

Human form, naturally. Still wearing nothing but my oversized hoodie, which she’d apparently claimed as permanent sleepwear. Her bare legs swung idly, and I noticed with a sharp spike of exasperation that she had, once again, decided that underwear was a suggestion rather than a requirement.

"How the actual hell did you get in here?"

"Door." She pointed at the closed—and supposedly locked—bathroom door with the air of someone explaining basic physics to a child. "It has a handle. Very convenient human invention. I approve."

"I locked that door. Specifically. With intent."

"Locks are merely polite suggestions for those without talent." She hopped down from the counter with feline grace, padding toward me on bare feet. Her golden eyes gleamed with that particular brand of mischief that meant she was about to say something that would age me ten years.

"Master is nervous. Heart rate significantly elevated above baseline. Cortisor levels positively screaming through the metaphorical roof. Very detectable."

"I’m fine."

"Master is a liar." She poked my chest with one sharp-nailed finger, right over my heart. "Good thing lying is listed prominently within Master’s registered skillset. Very useful for a scumbag. I approve of this career path."

I grabbed a towel from the rack with perhaps more force than strictly necessary and wrapped it around my waist in what I desperately hoped was a conversation-ending gesture.

"You need to transform back and return to my room immediately before someone sees you like this and I have to explain why there’s a naked woman in my bathroom."

"Why would Master need to explain? Soomin already knows I exist and has accepted this reality. The purple possessive one knows and has made her territorial displeasure abundantly clear. The ice princess knows and appears largely unbothered by my presence."

Maki counted off on her fingers with the methodical precision of someone presenting evidence.

"The blue healing one will discover the truth soon—her observational skills are improving. And the slutty chain one already suspects something interesting is happening in Master’s room at night."

"Don’t call Akari slutty."

"But she objectively is!" Maki’s grin turned absolutely wicked, all sharp teeth and predatory delight. "I can smell it on her. The pheromones don’t lie. She wants Master very badly. Almost as desperately as the purple one, though with considerably less emotional complexity and significantly more immediate physical intent."

"I am not having this discussion with you. Not now. Not ever."

"Why not? I’m Master’s familiar. It is literally my designated function to be aware of Master’s breeding habits and territorial expansion patterns."

I actively choked on air.

"My what?"

"Breeding habits. Mating rituals. Reproductive scheduling and partner selection protocols." She tilted her head, genuine confusion flickering across her features. "Is Master perhaps stupid? I was under the impression that humans possessed at least rudimentary understanding of basic mammalian biology."

"I understand biology perfectly fine, thank you."

"Then why does Master keep depositing his genetic material inside five different females without properly claiming any of them according to standard territorial dominance protocols? It’s very inefficient. I disapprove."

A knock at the door saved me from having to formulate a response to that absolute nightmare of a question.

Natalia’s voice filtered through the wood, sharp and suspicious in that way that meant she knew exactly what kind of chaos was probably happening on the other side.

"Satori. Emergency strategy meeting downstairs in ten minutes. Don’t be late."

"Be right there," I called back, shooting Maki a look that clearly communicated transform right now or I’m finding a spray bottle.

"Is that mangy cat in there with you again?"

Maki transformed before I could even attempt to construct a believable lie, condensing herself into a sleek black ball of fur and innocence. She sat primly on the counter, two tails swishing with perfect feline disdain, the picture of well-behaved pet behavior.

"Just me and Bartholomew having some quality bonding time."

A long, suspicious silence stretched from the other side of the door.

Then the sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway, each step radiating palpable skepticism.

I waited until I couldn’t hear her anymore, counting silently to thirty just to be absolutely certain she wasn’t lurking right outside.

"That was way too fucking close."

Maki transformed back with a pleased little shimmy, clearly proud of her performance.

"The purple one is extremely possessive of Master’s attention and time. I like her. She has excellent territorial instincts. Very cat-like. I approve of her as potential primary mate selection."

"She’s not my mate. She’s territorial because we have a complicated relationship dynamic."

"So is this one." Maki’s eyes gleamed molten gold in the bathroom’s fluorescent lighting. "But I’m willing to share Master’s attention and breeding opportunities because Master has proven himself worth fighting over. This is high praise. Master should feel honored."

"You’re not fighting anyone. Ever. That’s a direct order."

"Yet." She grinned with far too many teeth. "Master said ’yet.’ This implies future authorization. I will remember this conversation for legal purposes."

She transformed again without being asked, becoming the innocent black cat before I could argue further.

Progress, technically.

I got dressed in record time, throwing on the first clothes I could find that were both clean and functional. Black joggers that had somehow survived the last three days of brutal training. Gray hoodie that was more comfort item than fashion statement at this point. Shoes that wouldn’t actively fall apart if I needed to run for my life, which seemed increasingly likely.

The cat followed me downstairs with both tails swishing in perfect sync, radiating smug satisfaction.

The common room was absolutely packed with bodies.

Everyone had apparently returned from their afternoon supply run, transforming the space into controlled chaos that somehow hadn’t devolved into actual violence yet.

Raphael sat sprawled on the main couch next to Marco and Malachi, already arguing about something that would probably result in property damage later. Jaime was doing push-ups in the corner because of course he was—the man treated every available surface as potential workout equipment. Juan stood propped against the wall, somehow managing to sleep standing up through sheer force of will and determination to avoid participating in group activities.

Isabelle perched on the armrest like a queen surveying her chaotic court, reading something on her tablet with the kind of focused intensity that suggested either important research or extremely trashy romance novels. The smart money was on both simultaneously.

Hikari bounced the second she spotted me, her entire face lighting up with that golden retriever energy that was somehow both endearing and terrifying.

"Satori! You’re alive! You survived! Akari said you fought a Hydra-Lich with nothing but a baseball bat and pure audacity!"

"It was just a normal Tuesday," I said, trying to downplay the absurdity.

"That’s so incredibly cool!" She grabbed my arm with enough force to nearly dislocate my shoulder, her grip like enthusiastic steel. "You have to teach me how to fight giant multi-headed undead abominations! Please please please!" 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

"Maybe later. When I’m not about to die in three days."

"Promise?"

"Sure. Absolutely. We can schedule your monster-fighting lessons right after my funeral."

She squeezed me in what she probably thought was a friendly hug but felt more like being compressed in a hydraulic press. My ribs creaked ominously. Then she released me and bounced back to the couch, apparently satisfied with this arrangement.

Emi emerged from the kitchen carrying enough food to feed a small army or one particularly stressed college student. Pancakes. Scrambled eggs. Bacon. Toast. Hash browns. Three different types of jam. She’d clearly been stress-cooking again, which meant her anxiety about Wednesday had reached critical levels.

"Satori! You need to eat immediately!" She thrust a loaded plate at me with the kind of aggressive maternal energy that brooked no argument. "You barely ate anything yesterday!"

"I ate. That sandwich was perfectly adequate."

"A single sandwich doesn’t constitute proper nutrition for someone who’s about to fight an A-Rank prodigy!"

Skylar materialized at my elbow like she’d been summoned by the smell of drama and breakfast foods.

"She’s been cooking since six this morning," she informed me in her characteristic deadpan.

"It’s barely eight."

"Exactly." Skylar stole a piece of bacon directly off my plate with zero remorse. "Some people process existential anxiety through music or meditation. Emi processes through aggressive carbohydrate production. We’re all coping in our own ways."

Celeste sat at the dining table with Noah standing sentinel behind her chair, silent and watchful as always. Monica occupied the corner whispering something to Ferdinand that involved a lot of hand gestures and concerned expressions. Akari lounged on the loveseat filing her nails with studied casualness that didn’t quite hide the tension in her shoulders.

Natalia stood by the window, arms crossed, watching me with those intense purple eyes that seemed to see straight through every defense I tried to construct. The white streaks in her hair caught the morning light, making her look simultaneously ethereal and dangerous.

I crossed the room to her position, weaving through bodies and conversation.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." She turned slightly, not quite facing me but acknowledging my presence. "You pulled the gacha last night. Don’t try to deny it."

"How the hell did you know that?"

"You have that specific look. The one you get when you’ve done something monumentally reckless and are currently waiting to see if it explodes catastrophically in your face." Her hand found mine, fingers interlacing with practiced ease. "I’m learning your tells."

"It worked out. Mostly. No explosions yet."

"This time it worked out." Her grip tightened fractionally. "Next time you’re going to ask me first before you do something stupid."

"So you can talk me out of it?"

"So I can be physically present when it inevitably goes wrong and I have to save your ass." She paused, something softer flickering across her features. "Again."

I squeezed her hand, thumb brushing across her knuckles.

The moment shattered when Braxton walked in looking like death warmed over and served on a paper plate. Carmen followed two steps behind with her flask already open and half-empty despite the early hour.

"Alright, listen the fuck up," Braxton announced, his gravelly voice cutting through the various conversations. "Tournament officially starts in four weeks. That’s twenty-eight days to stop being an active embarrassment to my teaching record and this guild’s reputation."

"We’re currently ranked first place," Raphael pointed out with his characteristic aggressive defensiveness.