We decided to let Rhayne rest for a few hours.

She slept on the bed in our dorm room, but Veric pulled real bedding from the Academy noble wing—proper sheets, actual blankets.

She’d earned that twice over by now. She doesn’t get to be alone after what happened.

That part isn’t up for debate.

Veric and I stay in the same room at her request. Sit on my bed while Rhayne sleeps on hers.

"We need to train," I say, almost a whisper. "The four of us. Me. You. Rhayne. Oliver. Duels."

I’d been turning the idea over since the Nomine Gladiatus with Freya. A duel doesn’t just measure a fighter—it teaches the squad how each of us breathes, where each of us hesitates. Veric was off-world for too long. He needs to slot back in.

Veric raises an eyebrow. "Duels?"

"Where we’re going, Diver versus Diver is the rule, not the exception. If we don’t know how to fight each other, we won’t survive fighting them."

He processes it. Quick read.

"So you actually want to walk into Veridian’s docks."

"Confirmed."

He breathes out slowly. Lets his head fall back against the wall behind him. Looks up at the ceiling.

"All right. I trust you. Even though my instincts won’t shut up about you killing me one day."

"If I were going to kill you, you’d already be dead. Sleep well."

"Comforting."

We sit in silence for a few minutes.

I take the time to organize what I have. Open the inventory. Need clarity before I go any further. Pull a few Scales to top off the tank.

[Scales: 19,500 → 19,453]

[OXI: 1,325 → 2,500/2,500]

Name: Dryden Sands

Rank: D (Coral) — ★★★☆☆☆

Class: Drifter — Order [SSS]

Class Type: Unique

Strength: C (1★) [Horizon Set]

Agility: C (1★) [Horizon Set]

Vitality: C (1★) [Horizon Set]

Spirit: C (1★) [Horizon Set]

Wisdom: B (3★) [Retained from Memory]

Eventide: [Devoured Soul: 6/250]

Long way from Rank B on Eventide. I’ll need to put together a hunting team where Chaos Theory doesn’t turn every expedition into a diplomatic disaster. Or at least keep the collateral damage manageable.

Inventory: Torn Tome Skill.

Leviathanic Beads: 2.

OXI Candies: 7.

Echo’s Fragment: 1

A few strips of leather only good for improvised bindings or scratch notes. Most of the crafting materials are with Oliver. I’m operationally naked.

Some shopping needs to happen before we move.

I close the inventory. The room is quiet. Rhayne is still asleep. I glance over—Veric is slumped against the wall, drooling. He fell asleep too.

I let them rest.

Maybe having me around feels safe to them, somehow.

I’ll take that.

Hours later, I hear movement. Fabric rustling. A breath shifting tempo.

Veric jolts awake with the sound. He’s already by the window before I can blink, polishing a dagger with a cloth, doing his best to sell me on the idea that he’s been alert and on watch this whole time.

He glances at me. Then at Rhayne.

Our eyes meet. She’s waking up.

I let a small smile through. He knows I caught him sleeping. He knows I know. He gives me a tiny shrug that says, "Don’t give a damn."

I get up and walk over to her.

Rhayne pushes herself up to sit on the edge of the bed. Her hair is tangled, and her storm-gray eyes still carried the fog of sleep, along with something heavier underneath.

"Hey, little ballerina." I keep my voice soft. "Are you okay? Can we talk?"

I sit on the chair by the small writing desk next to the bed. Close enough to talk like friends. Far enough that she doesn’t feel cornered.

After everything she’s been through, I can’t get the tone wrong.

"I—I’m... I’m fine."

She moves to stand up before her brain has fully caught up to being awake.

I stand first to give her space. She settles on the edge of the bed instead, feet on the floor, hands in her lap.

"You don’t have to get up. Stay there."

I sit back down.

"Rhayne. I need to understand something. And I’m going to ask you straight, because we don’t have time for the polite version."

She looks at me, waiting.

"I watched you cross the white room in the Gatekeeper’s bioma like you’d been dancing your whole life. I watched you front-flip out of the way of Turtarex acid. I watched you use the Battle Ribbon like it was already part of your body, five minutes after you got it."

She doesn’t look away. But her fingers in her lap tighten.

"Your body is trained. Your reflexes are trained. Your battlefield read is sharper than Oliver’s, and Oliver is an ex-soldier who farmed monsters for a living. You move like someone who spent years being taught how not to be seen."

Silence.

"And then I look at you outside of combat. You tremble. You stutter. You flinch when somebody raises their voice. Freya tied you up and gagged you and you didn’t resist. A girl who slides under a Rank B without hesitation can’t defend herself against five cadets?"

Her eyes are wet now. She isn’t looking at me. She’s looking at the floor between her feet.

"It doesn’t add up, Rhayne. The dancer and the scared girl are not the same person. Unless they are. And the reason they are is something you’ve never told me."

The silence stretches. Longer than I want it to but I wait. I don’t push. She has to get there on her own.

Her hand drifts up to the shoulder where the tattoo had been fading—but it came back to normal somewhere along the way. Her fingers touch the skin through the fabric. Like she’s checking that something is still there.

"You want to know why I am the way I am."

"Yes."

"Why I’m so quick on my feet and such a coward at the same time."

"I didn’t say coward."

"It’s what you mean."

I don’t deny it, but I also don’t confirm it.

I wait.

She takes a slow breath. The breath comes before a confession that’s going to cost her something to speak.

Then she tells me a piece of information that absolutely did not exist in my last life.

"Because I’m a garbage spy."