Kael walked to the communal showers, the night silence of the dormitory hallway pressing in on him. Inside, he held his battered hands under the water, watching the blood run pink and then clear. The sting was the only thing that felt real.
He walked back to the dorm and paused at the door. From within, he heard only the deep, rhythmic breathing of sleep. He entered quietly.
The room was dark, lit by moonlight. In their bunks, Raven and Wren were asleep. The only sign of wakefulness was a faint shift of weight from the upper bunk he shared with Adam.
Kael sat on the edge of his lower bunk with a soft sigh and began picking at the wet, bloody knot of his makeshift bandage.
A whisper came from above. "Can't sleep either?"
Kael's hands stilled. "Something like that," he murmured back.
A moment later, Adam's face appeared over the side of the upper bunk, looking down. In the faint light, his eyes went straight to Kael's hands. "You keep that up, you won't be holding a dagger by morning."
"It's fine."
"Looks fine," Adam whispered, the sarcasm gentle. He was quiet for a beat, then his head withdrew. Kael heard the soft creak of him lying back down. His voice floated down, a low, thoughtful murmur meant just for the space between their bunks.
"You know, back home, I'd never really been in a real fight. Beasts in the hills, yeah, but I was always the one staying in. Practicing the same strikes in the yard, thinking that was all there was to it. Getting stronger was just repetition."
Kael listened, slowly resuming his work on the bandage.
"Then I end up here," Adam continued. "And I see you. How you move. It's not just practice. It's experience. The kind you only get from being in the deep end. From having no choice but to get sharper or get sunk." He paused, and the next words were chosen with care. "You've got experience I can't even guess at. Probably the bad kind. The worst kind."
Kael's jaw tightened. He stared at his raw knuckles.
"But here's what I think," Adam said, his voice firmer, a quiet conviction in the dark. "That kind of experience, it forges you. It makes you harder, sharper. But it doesn't get to name you. That's your choice. That guy today? He's from your past. He doesn't get to decide your future."
The simple, unwavering faith in those words was a physical ache in Kael's chest.
"What I'm trying to say is, you helped me. Maybe without even trying. You showed me that real strength needs that edge. So. However bad that past was," Adam's voice dropped even lower, a bare whisper of solidarity. "We have your back, Kael. Whatever you need. Even if it's just us sitting quiet while you figure it out."
Then, true to his word, Adam fell silent. He offered no more questions, demanded no answers. He simply offered his presence, a vigil in the dark.
Kael sat motionless. The raw honesty of the offer threatened to unravel the cold, solitary resolve he was clinging to. It made the secret he had to keep feel like a betrayal.
He finally managed to unwind the sodden cloth. The clean air stung his broken skin. His mind, which had been coldly weighing catastrophic options, sacrifice his friends or sacrifice a city, stuttered to a halt. Adam had reframed it entirely. This wasn't about choosing who would die. It was about choosing who he would be while fighting to prevent it.
The dangerous, third path that had been forming in his mind wasn't just a desperate tactic. It was the only choice that let him live up to the faith Adam had just declared. He would not be the Revivers' weapon again. He would not stand aside. He would take the skills that past had beaten into him and turn them into a flaw in the Revivers' plan. He would use their own tool to break their machinery.
He found a clean strip of cloth and bound his knuckles again, the motions precise and automatic. The pain was a grounding, familiar thread.
He lay back in the dark, listening to the even breathing of his sleeping friends and the quiet, awake presence of the one above him.
He was not okay. The fear was a cold stone in his gut. But he was not alone in the dark. And for the first time since he'd seen Tobey's smirk, the future felt less like an inescapable trap and more like a defendable position. He closed his eyes, and a thin, exhausted sleep finally dragged him under.