He clapped his hands once, not loud, just enough to reset the group's attention. "Alright." he said, tone lighter again. "We've mourned properly, performed a ceremonial deck surgery, and Jaden has almost suggested donuts."
Jaden lifted a hand. "I didn't say donuts!"
Mindy arched an eyebrow. "You thought donuts."
Jaden pointed at her. "That's unfair. I'm always thinking of donuts."
Julian snorted. "Now. Sy. Shuffle up again."
Syrus did, and this time his movements were steadier. Not perfect. But less afraid.
They ran a few more open-hand drills: short sequences, teaching Syrus to think about follow-up instead of only immediate payoff. Julian asked him questions instead of giving answers. Bastion occasionally jumped in with technical clarifications. Alexis corrected timing misconceptions with calm confidence. Mindy kept Syrus from spiraling by mocking the concept of perfection. Jasmine offered quiet observations that grounded them when the conversation threatened to become purely mechanical.
And somewhere in the middle of it, Syrus began to smile: small, real smiles, when a line worked the way it was supposed to.
Not the smile of someone showing off. The smile of someone realizing he could learn this.
The Reject Well kids watched the whole thing with rapt attention, occasionally trading looks as if Syrus's struggle made him more interesting than Julian's calm mastery. They didn't need decks to recognize the shape of effort. Of evolution of something that was considered weak. That was their whole lives.
When Syrus finally set the cards down again, he didn't look defeated. He looked… tired, yes. But present. Like the exhaustion belonged to progress rather than failure.
Julian leaned back onto his hands, letting the sun warm his shoulders for a moment. He listened to the ambient sounds: the distant hum of campus life, a laugh from somewhere near the red dorm, the wind pulling gently at the grass.
He looked at the group: at Jaden's easy grin, at Bastion's focus, at Syrus's careful steadiness, at Alexis's quiet composure, at Mindy's sharp warmth hiding under sarcasm, at Jasmine's thoughtful calm. Then he let his gaze return to Syrus.
"Alright." Julian said, and his voice carried a quiet promise. He didn't look at the Obelisk dorm. He didn't look at the academy. He didn't look at the system.
He looked at his friends.
"That's enough of dueling. You all told me you've been training with Jaden while I was dealing with… everything."
Jaden grinned, proud. "We did! It was awesome. Syrus almost punched me."
"I did not." Syrus protested automatically.
Jaden's grin widened. "You wanted to."
Syrus's cheeks pinked. "Maybe."
Julian's mouth curved, just slightly. "Good. I'm glad."
He shifted, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, hands loose, posture relaxed in the way of someone who looked casual and yet missed nothing. The same look he wore when a duel stopped being a game and started being a message. Only now the field was grass, and the stakes were invisible.
"Then show me." Julian said simply. "Show me how you've evolved."
Mindy blinked. "Like… show you what? Our meditation posture?"
Bastion adjusted his glasses. "He means application. Defensive aptitude. Sensory refinement."
Jaden raised a hand enthusiastically. "I can flare! I can do a cool thing where my hair goes up like a super saiyan…"
"That doesn't count. And you were the teacher, not a student." Jasmine said, deadpan.
"It feels like it does." Jaden insisted, pouting.
Alexis exhaled, a small laugh she tried to hide behind composure. She sat with her legs folded, back straight, hands resting on her knees, already settling into the discipline she'd learned was necessary around Julian's brand of training. Her eyes stayed on him, attentive and a little wary in the way someone got when they knew they were about to be challenged.
Julian's gaze moved over them once. Syrus, Bastion, Alexis, Mindy, Jasmine… Then, without a word of warning, he let his presence change.
It wasn't dramatic. There was no visible aura, no lightning, no cinematic swelling of sound. It was pressure.
A flare. A hostile one for sure, but controlled, pushed outward like the sudden slam of a door in a quiet room. A spiritual shove aimed less at hurting and more at forcing an honest reaction. Enough to jolt the nervous system. Enough to make the air feel colder.
Syrus made a small, strangled noise and jerked backward, hands rising instinctively. Something flickered around him: thin, rushed, more panic than shape. It held for half a second, then cracked like a soap bubble.
Mindy's curse came out sharp, her shoulders tensing as she tried to throw up a shield with the speed of someone used to arguing rather than defending. It appeared too wide, too sloppy, more wall than umbrella, then stuttered against the pressure and went down all the same.
Jasmine stiffened, late by a beat, but her response was cleaner than she probably realized: a narrow, precise layer of resistance that blunted the sensation instead of trying to smother it. Unable to respond in time, but probably the best shield out of the tested ones.
Bastion's eyes widened, breath catching. He didn't flinch away. He built something, assembling a defense the way he assembled theories: carefully, structurally, with steps. The problem was that a flare didn't wait for steps. He was simply too late as well, later even than Jasmine.
Alexis reacted fastest after Jaden. Not with a shout or a flinch, but with the sudden snap of posture and focus, her shielding flared up like a practiced reflex. It was strong, competent… and it broadcasted itself too loudly, like a shield made to be seen. Too much energy wasted, she would not be able to maintain that state for more than five minutes.
And Jaden, who was not even being tested… Jaden's response happened before Julian's flare could have even fully expanded. A huge surge of energy erupted around him like a bonfire catching a gust of wind. The grass under him flattened outward. Leaves rustled hard, the air trembled and roaring against his presence. Then it was gone, as if he'd clapped his hands and decided the universe should behave.
For a second, nobody spoke.
Then Mindy rounded on Julian, eyes blazing. "Are you serious?!"
Syrus had both hands on his chest like he was checking whether his heart was still where it belonged. "Julian!"
Bastion was already talking, which was how Julian knew he was fine. "This was an unannounced hostile flare. That would be considered a violation of…"
"Shh, you…" Jaden said, delighted. "That was cool."
"It was mean." Jasmine corrected.
Julian let their reactions play out without apology. When the initial surge of indignation started to settle, he tilted his head.
"That... " he said calmly, "is what happens when you only know how to defend yourselves when the world is polite."
Mindy's mouth opened.
Julian raised one hand, palm outward. Not a command to shut up, an invitation to listen.
"When the threat is announced…" he continued. "When you know it's coming and from where… you can prepare. You can posture. You can look good doing it." His eyes flicked to Alexis for half a heartbeat: not accusing, just acknowledging her instinct for composure. "But the point of shielding isn't to be impressive."
He looked at Syrus, voice softening a notch. "It's to buy yourself time. Even half a second can be the difference between getting hurt and getting away. Especially if you just need enough to muster a proper defense."
Syrus swallowed, ashamed. "I… I tried!"
"I know." Julian said. "You reacted, that matters. But it shows you guys have quite a way ahead of yourselves."
Bastion inhaled slowly. "So the objective is reflexive defense. Not reactive planning."
Julian nodded. "Exactly."
Jaden lifted a hand again. "So… did I pass?"
Julian looked at him for a long moment.
Then he snorted, quiet, like the laugh tried to escape before he could stop it.
"You are not the one I'm testing." Julian said.
Jaden's grin didn't fade. "Because I'm awesome?"
"Because you're impossible." Julian corrected, and the dryness in his voice was fond whether he wanted it to be or not.
Jaden clasped his hands in front of his chest. "I can be testable! Give me a thing!"
Julian leaned back slightly, considering him the way one might consider a wild animal and a complicated machine at the same time.
"You do have a thing, Jay." Julian said. "Your 'thing' is that you have the spiritual output of a thunderstorm and the fine motor control of someone trying to pour syrup into a shot glass with a firehose."
Jaden blinked. "…Is that bad?"
"For anyone else, for sure." Julian said. "In yours? It's just… you."
Bastion's eyes sharpened with interest. "An abundance of reserves paired with disproportionately difficult modulation."
"Thank you." Julian said, then glanced at Mindy. "That's his way of saying yes."
Jaden looked vaguely offended. "Hey! I can do control!"
Julian's eyes narrowed in mock seriousness. "Remember their first attempt to make them develop their spiritual energy? Anyway… alright. Prove it. Flare at them like I did."
Mindy braced, glaring. Jasmine's shoulders tightened as Syrus went pale.
Julian held up two fingers. "Just enough to cause a chill."
Jaden's grin returned in full force, dangerous in its sincerity. "Got it."
Julian pointed at him, voice warning. "Jaden… your definition of 'a chill' is going to be the worst experience of their lives if you don't rein it in."
Jaden's smile turned sheepish. "I can do it! I swear."
Alexis, arms crossed, muttered. "And this is how people die. I didn't even write up my will…"
Julian stood. "We're not doing that yet. Save your firehose for later."
Jaden pouted, but his posture softened, listening.
Julian stepped back and gestured broadly at the grass.
"Line up." he said. "Space yourselves out. Then sit yourself at an one arm distance from each other, eyes closed."
They obeyed, slowly, still grumbling.
Syrus sat first, back straight but shoulders tense, hands resting on his knees like he'd seen Julian do it. Bastion adjusted his position twice until it was symmetrical. Mindy kicked off her shoes and sat cross-legged like she was preparing to argue with the universe. Jasmine folded her legs neatly and took a steadying breath. Alexis settled with practiced poise, chin slightly lowered, focus immediate.
Jaden and Julian moved to stand a few steps behind them, off to either side, like two unseen forces preparing to pull a thread.
Julian spoke again, voice low enough that the exercise itself demanded attention.
"This second test is harder." he said. "You're going to learn the difference between reacting to a sensation… and reading intent."
Bastion's eyes remained closed, but his voice came out crisp. "We must identify the source."
"Yes." Julian said. "And not just 'a flare happened.' You'll have to know who will be flaring, me or Jaden, because the feeling is different. And you'll have to know who it's aimed at."
Syrus swallowed audibly.
Julian continued. "Each round, either Jaden or I will flare. Only one of us. And we'll target only one person."
Mindy lifted a hand slightly, eyes still closed. "So we just shield if we feel something coming?"
"If you shield when you aren't the target…" Julian said. "You lose."
Jasmine's brows knitted. "That's cruel."
"It's reality." Julian replied. "If you throw your defenses up every time the air twitches, you'll drain yourselves and panic. If you shield for someone else because you can't tell where the threat is going, you'll get in the way."
Alexis spoke, quiet but firm. "So we're training our discernment."
Julian's mouth curved slightly. "Now you're speaking my language."
Jaden leaned in a little, whispering loudly as if the group couldn't hear him. "Can I make mine spooky? Like, boo?"
Julian didn't even look at him. "Chill."
"I can." Jaden insisted. "I can do chill. Chill is my middle name."
"It's not." Syrus muttered.
Julian spoke again to the line. "Your goal is to use sensing first. You do not move or shield. You read. You narrow down who is acting. You narrow down who they're acting toward. Then, only then, you protect yourself."
Bastion inhaled slowly, centering. "Understood."
Julian glanced at Jaden. Jaden gave him a thumbs-up that looked entirely too confident. Julian exhaled once.
"Round one." he said. "Begin."
The field held its breath. Jaden and Julian stood still, both present, both silent. The trick was that their presence alone was already a kind of pressure. Like two magnets held close to a compass needle.
Julian flared.
He kept it narrow, concentrated, and aimed, an intent like cold glass sliding across the skin. Not wide. Not dramatic. Just enough that the target would feel it in their bones.
The flare went for Mindy. Mindy's shoulders tensed instantly. But she didn't shield.
She clenched her fists, teeth grinding, trying to follow instructions while every instinct screamed do something.
Bastion's breathing quickened. Jasmine twitched. Alexis's posture stiffened a fraction.
Syrus… Syrus panicked.
His shield snapped up, fast and messy, flaring around him like a startled animal puffing itself up. It wasn't even aimed at protecting him. It was a reflexive "nope" to pressure itself.
The moment his shield rose, Julian's flare evaporated.
"Stop." Julian said.
Syrus's eyes flew open.
Julian's gaze pinned him, not harsh, but direct. "You weren't the target."
Syrus's throat bobbed. "I… I thought…"
"You thought it was you because you didn't finish sensing," Julian said. "You jumped at the first spark. That's normal. That's also how we learn control."
Syrus's cheeks burned. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize." Julian said. "Learn."
Mindy's eyes opened too, anger and relief mixed together. "Was it me?"
Julian nodded. "Yes."
Mindy swallowed. "And Syrus…"
Syrus winced. Julian didn't rub it in. "Reset."
They closed their eyes again.
Jaden bounced once, whispering, "Okay okay okay, my turn?"
Julian didn't respond, obviously. He didn't have to. Jaden flared.
Jaden's flare felt different. Even when he tried to hold it back, it carried warmth and brightness, sunlight through a magnifying glass. It wasn't cold intent. It was overwhelming potential pressing against restraint.
And he aimed it at Jasmine.
Jasmine's breath caught, not from fear exactly, but from the sudden sensation of being singled out in a way that was oddly… loud. Jaden's energy had a signature. It wasn't subtle.
She forced herself to parse it anyway. Jaden. It was him. She refined her awareness, narrowed the sense of direction, like turning her head toward a sound without moving.
It was aimed at her, Julian could say she was sure of it. She raised her shield: small, precise, like an umbrella angled against rain.
Jaden's flare hit it and slid off.
Jasmine exhaled shakily.
"Nice." Julian said, quietly enough it sounded like approval rather than praise.
Mindy muttered, "Of course she got it."
Jaden whispered excitedly, "Did you feel the chill? That was me being chill!"
Jasmine opened one eye. "That was not a chill. But I appreciate the restrain."
Julian's mouth twitched into a smile. "Round three."
They continued.
Some rounds were clean. Some were chaos.
Alexis got the sensing right almost every time, but her instinct was to shield a heartbeat early: she couldn't stand the idea of being caught unprepared, and it showed. When she learned to wait until the last possible moment, she began to look almost relaxed doing it, which was more unsettling than her initial tension.
Bastion's problem was the opposite. He could sense patterns, could tell Julian's signature from Jaden's with frightening accuracy, but he kept trying to confirm direction through logic rather than intuition, and logic cost time. When he finally let himself trust the first clear read, he improved sharply, then overcorrected and threw up a shield for the wrong person because he couldn't stand uncertainty.
Mindy was instinct, all sharp edges. She sensed aggressively, almost pushing her awareness outward like she was daring the flare to show itself. It worked, she became good at detecting the existence of pressure, but she struggled to narrow it down without reacting. Half her losses came from throwing up defenses out of spite at the universe.
Jasmine was quieter. She didn't flare big reactions. She didn't overcompensate. Her issue was confidence, but in a different sense than what Syrus usually had. Her readings were precise, but her instinct seemed to be of protecting everyone. Even when she did read correctly, she hesitated for a second, and sometimes her shield extended to guard the others fully before she could even think. But every time she succeeded, her shields were cleaner than anyone else's.
And Syrus… Syrus was the most honest representation of the training's cruelty.
He was trying so hard not to fail that he got caught between fear and obedience. His sensing wasn't the problem. He could feel the difference between Julian's cold intent and Jaden's bright pressure. His problem was that his body remembered being targeted. By words, by hands, by laughter, and that memory tried to hijack every signal.
Julian watched him carefully, not with pity, but with the kind of attention a guardian gave to a cracked piece of armor: aware it could break, determined not to let it.
After the fifth round, Syrus finally got one clean.
Julian flared, cold, narrow, at Syrus, and Syrus didn't flinch.
He read it. Felt it. Identified it as Julian.
Then, and only then, he raised his shield.
Not huge or dramatic. Enough for its purpose. The flare hit and stopped. Syrus's breath left him in a whisper.
Julian nodded once. That nod did more for Syrus than a hundred reassurances could have.
Jaden, sitting off to the side now with his hands behind his head like a coach who refused to take anything seriously, grinned proudly. "See? You guys are doing it!"
Syrus's voice came out small. "It's… hard."
Julian's reply was immediate. "Yes. Good. It is meant to be."
Mindy groaned. "You're such a psycho."
Julian ignored the insult with practiced ease. They ran a few more rounds, then Julian raised his hand.
"Let's take a break." he said.
They all exhaled like they'd been holding themselves together with thread.
Mindy flopped backward onto the grass, staring up at the sky. "I hate this."
"You don't." Jasmine said quietly.
Mindy waved a hand. "I hate how effective his method is."
Bastion sat upright, rubbing his temples like he'd been trying to solve calculus with emotions. "This is… surprisingly comparable to certain forms of probabilistic inference."
Jaden pointed at him. "Don't make it weird."
"It already is weird." Alexis said, but her tone had softened. Her hair had come loose slightly, a few strands falling forward, and she didn't fix them immediately. That alone was evidence of the training doing its job: making her less obsessed with being perfect at all times.
Julian sat back down on the picnic blanket, knees drawn up, looking at them with that same attentive calm.
"You're all improving." he said. "Even when it doesn't feel like it."
Jaden nodded vigorously. "They're way better than last time you saw them, right?"
Syrus looked down at his hands as if expecting them to betray him. "It still feels… shaky."
"It will." Julian said. "Until it isn't."
They drank water. Mindy complained about the grass leaving marks on her knees. Jaden made a joke about how spiritual training should come with snacks. Alexis told him to stop talking about food like he'd ever gone hungry a day in his life. Jaden protested loudly and dramatically and somehow made all of them laugh anyway.
And through it all… Bastion's eyes kept drifting once again. Not in an obvious manner, but noticeable enough if you knew how to look for the right thing. Towards the distant silhouette of the Obelisk dorm, blue against the horizon like a promise or a warning depending on who looked at it.
Julian noticed once again. Of course he did.
At first he let it pass. People looked at that dorm all the time. It was the biggest symbol on the island. But Bastion's gaze didn't carry envy. It carried calculation, and something quieter underneath: doubt, turning in the chest like a slow gear.
By the time the break had stretched long enough that conversation started to thin, Julian finally spoke.
"Bastion," he said directly.
Bastion blinked and flinched for a second, as he was pulled from whatever loop he'd been running inside his head. "Yes?"
Julian tilted his head slightly, eyes following the direction Bastion had been looking. "You've been staring at it all afternoon."
Bastion hesitated. The kind of hesitation that wasn't about finding words, but about deciding whether the words were allowed to exist.
Julian waited.
He didn't push. He didn't soften it into a joke. He simply held space.
Bastion's shoulders rose and fell once.
Then he spoke, voice quieter than usual. "I… can't stop thinking about it."
Mindy sat up halfway, curiosity piqued. Alexis turned fully now, her expression attentive. Syrus paused with his water bottle halfway to his mouth. Jaden blinked, suddenly serious in that way he rarely showed unless something mattered.
Julian didn't say 'why' yet. He just asked, simple and grounded:
"About what?"
Bastion's gaze flicked toward the dorm again, then back to Julian.
His mouth opened… closed… then finally…
"I don't know if…" Bastion began, and the words sounded strange coming from someone who usually spoke as if certainty was a native language. "I don't know if I could ever go up there. Like you're doing."
The air shifted. Not with danger this time, but weight.
Julian didn't answer immediately. He didn't give Bastion a pep talk or a denial. He just watched him, really watched him, like the question deserved the respect of silence before it became conversation.
"What brings up the question?" Julian asked, interested.Bastion's fingers traced a small pattern in the grass without meaning to. A habit. A stalling tactic. He looked almost irritated at himself for needing it.
"It's not that I think I'd fail the test." Bastion said, and there it was, the first correction he needed to make before anyone could misread him. "Or that I'm worried about the theoretical requirements. I can meet those. I can exceed those."
Jaden raised his hands a little, palms up in surrender. "Nobody's saying you can't."
Syrus nodded quickly, as if the thought offended him on Bastion's behalf. "Yeah. For sure that would not be an issue for you."
Bastion's shoulders loosened by a fraction. It wasn't reassurance he was after. It was accuracy. He wanted the problem named properly.
"It's the… other part," Bastion said. His eyes drifted toward the distant blue building again, sunlight caught on the white stone, too clean, too deliberate. "The part that isn't on any syllabus."
Julian waited. He could feel the rest of the group doing the same, a kind of collective instinct to not interrupt a thought that had taken effort to reach the surface.
Bastion swallowed. "The part where you don't just need to be good. You need to be… legible. To them."
Alexis's gaze sharpened, not offended, but attentive, like a sentence had finally entered a familiar language.
Mindy leaned back on her hands, one knee raised, expression faintly amused in the way she got when someone stumbled toward a truth she'd lived with for years.
Jasmine stayed quiet. She always did at first. She listened until she understood what people were really saying.
"The Obelisk isn't just a dorm." Bastion continued. "It's… a culture. A social algorithm. A constant negotiation. I've watched it from the outside and I could never fully… quantify it." His mouth tightened. "And now Julian's inside it."
Julian's eyebrows lifted slightly. "So this is about me."
"It's about what you represent." Bastion corrected immediately. "Not you as a person. But what you represent to the system."
Syrus's fork, still in his hand from earlier, had long since been put away. He didn't realize he'd been holding it until his fingers unclenched. His eyes didn't leave Bastion.
Jaden frowned, scratching the back of his neck. "Man… you make it sound like he's a virus."
Bastion exhaled, half a laugh with no humor. "Maybe. From their perspective."
Julian considered that. Not as an insult, but as a model. Systems had immune responses. He'd seen enough of the academy to know Bastion wasn't wrong.
"I'm not saying you're… unwelcome." Bastion said, as if he could hear Julian's thoughts. "You proved you can duel. You proved you can think. You proved you can hold yourself together under pressure. That's not the problem." His voice lowered slightly. "The problem is that competence doesn't automatically translate into acceptance."
Alexis gave a small, slow nod.
Jaden's eyes shifted between Julian and Bastion. "Okay. So what's the actual fear?"
Bastion's answer came out slower than his usual pace, like he needed to lay each word carefully. "That the Obelisk doesn't just test your skill. It tests your… shape."
Julian's gaze stayed steady. "Meaning?"
"Meaning…" Bastion said, "The Obelisk asks you to become a certain kind of person. And I don't know if I… can become fluent in that. Or if I want to."
There it was. The heart of it.
Mindy's lips curved. "Nouveau riche crisis."
Jaden blinked. "Gesundheit."
"She means people who get access to wealth and power but don't know the rules. Or don't embody them." Alexis cut in, not unkindly.
Syrus glanced at Julian. "Is that… how they see you?"
Julian didn't answer immediately. Not because he didn't know, but because he did—and saying it out loud would make it feel too real.
"Some of them." Julian said at last. "Some of them see me as a temporary anomaly. A statistical error. A story the academy tells itself to pretend it has mobility."
Bastion's eyes widened slightly. Not at the content, but at the bluntness.
Jaden made a face. "That's gross."
"It's not personal." Julian added, and even he heard how strange that sounded. "Not always. It's… how hierarchies defend themselves."
Jasmine finally spoke, softly. "It becomes personal when you're the one standing in the crossfire. And that's with you being scarily good in figuring those things out and adapting. I swear you were more of an Obelisk before the exam than half of the male dorm."
Her voice wasn't dramatic. It never was. But it landed cleanly.
Syrus's throat bobbed as he swallowed. He knew something about crossfires now.
Bastion looked down again. "That's the thing." he said. "I can adapt to difficulty. I can adapt to workload. I can adapt to being outmatched in a duel." He lifted his eyes. "But I don't know if I can adapt to being… constantly read. Constantly measured. Constantly forced to choose between being sincere and being safe."
Julian watched him. Bastion wasn't panicking. He wasn't spiraling. He was doing what Bastion always did: identifying a system, recognizing its constraints, and asking whether he could optimize himself without losing integrity.
Jaden's voice came out unexpectedly thoughtful. "Isn't that just… life?"
Mindy tilted her head. "Life, yes. But intensified."
Alexis nodded. "There is a difference, being under the spotlight all the time."
Bastion's shoulders tightened. "Then what's the point of chasing it?"
There was a pause where everyone seemed to consider whether to answer as duelists, as students, or as people.
Julian answered carefully. "The point depends on what you want."
Syrus glanced away. "I used to want it." he admitted quietly. "When I was little. When I first came here. It felt like… if I got promoted, I'd finally be worth something." His mouth twisted. "Now I'm in Ra and it's…" He faltered, then forced himself onward. "It's great. I'm grateful. But I'm also realizing that… the dorm color doesn't fix what's wrong inside your head."
Julian felt something tighten in his chest. He didn't correct Syrus. He didn't soften it. He let it stand.
Jaden reached over and nudged Syrus's shoulder with his own, small and wordless. Syrus nudged back.
Mindy's expression softened by a fraction, like she hadn't expected honesty from him to come out that cleanly.
Bastion's gaze flicked again toward Obelisk, almost involuntarily, like his eyes were magnetized. Julian noticed. Noticed how it wasn't envy. It was analysis mixed with dread. Like looking at a storm front and wondering if you'd ever need to walk through it.
Alexis folded her hands loosely. "Bastion…" she said. "You're thinking of Obelisk as a single monolith."
"It isn't?"
Alexis hesitated, then chose her words. "It's not a hive-mind." she said. "But it has a gravity. Even the people who don't agree with it still orbit it."
That was the most honest version of it.
Mindy gave a small shrug. "Some of them are genuinely decent. Some are vicious. Most are… trained."
Bastion glanced at her. "Trained?"
Mindy smiled without warmth. "To never look surprised. To never be caught without an angle. To never need help publicly."
Jaden stared at her. "That sounds exhausting."
"It is." Mindy said. "Which is why most of them are exhausted and pretend they aren't."
Jasmine added, still quiet: "And why the ones who aren't exhausted are the ones who enjoy it."
That made Jaden shiver a little. "Ew."
Julian almost smiled. Almost.
Bastion rubbed his forehead. "So you either become trained or you become prey."
Alexis's mouth tightened. "It's not that simple."
Bastion's eyes met hers. "Isn't it?"
Alexis looked away for a moment. When she looked back, her voice was steady. "Sometimes you become trained so you don't become prey."
That was not the same as endorsement. It was survival.
Jaden's expression changed. Not fear, exactly. More like he was seeing a shape in the fog and realizing it wasn't just a scary story people told freshmen.
"I don't like that." he said plainly.
Julian studied him. "You don't have to like it."
"That's not the point," Jaden insisted. "If you don't like it, why would you do it?"
Mindy made a soft sound. "Because wanting doesn't change the rules."
Jaden frowned. "It should."
Alexis actually smiled at that, small and almost fond. "That's a very Slifer answer."
Jaden's ears pinked. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should." Jasmine said, and it was so gentle it almost startled him.
Bastion exhaled slowly. "So…" he said, as if re-centering the discussion, "Julian. You're inside now. What does it feel like?"
Julian took a moment before answering. He didn't want to dramatize it. He didn't want to sanitize it either.
"It feels…" Julian said. "Like living in a museum that expects you to become an exhibit."
Jaden blinked. "Dude."
Julian glanced at him. "I'm not saying it's all bad."
"No, but…" Jaden gestured helplessly. "That's still… a lot."
Julian nodded. "It's a lot."
He looked toward Obelisk again, but this time his eyes didn't carry longing. They carried recognition.
"I can't sit in the same places I used to." Julian said. "Not without making a statement whether I intend to or not. I can't relax the same way. I can't be invisible." He breathed out. "Even when no one is directly watching, you start to… anticipate eyes."
Syrus's face tightened. "That sounds like…"
Julian didn't let him finish. Syrus didn't need to say the word.
"It's different." Julian said gently. "But it's adjacent."
Bastion's jaw tightened. "So it's not just politics. It's a constant pressure to perform."
Mindy nodded. "Exactly."
"And it's not just about being impressive. It's about being proper." Alexis added, voice low.
Syrus frowned. "Proper?"
Alexis's eyes flicked briefly to Julian, then away. "The men's Obelisk is… direct. Competitive. Status games. The women's side is…" She hesitated. "Like we said in our previous conversation. A golden cage."
Jaden looked confused. "Oh yeah, I remember that. Is that even better?"
Mindy's laugh was soft, and not particularly amused. "Only if you confuse 'comfortable' with 'safe.'"
Jasmine's voice came again, quiet and steady, like an undercurrent. "You can be hurt very gently."
That made Jaden go still. Syrus looked down.
Bastion's gaze stayed fixed on Alexis now, as if he'd forgotten his own question in favor of understanding a system he'd never had access to.
Alexis's fingers tightened slightly around nothing. "You're allowed to be soft." she said. "As long as it's the right kind of soft. You're allowed to be beautiful. As long as it's controlled. You're allowed to have friends. As long as they don't embarrass you."
Jaden's mouth opened and closed. He didn't have a joke ready. That alone said a lot.
Julian watched Alexis as she spoke. He could feel the exhaustion beneath her composure. Not new exhaustion, old. Learned.
"So you see…" Mindy said, almost conversational. "That's what comes up with all of the perks. The constant expectation, the framing of our reality."
Bastion looked unsettled. "And you just… live like that?"
Alexis shrugged, but it wasn't indifference. "You get used to the air you were raised in."
Jasmine nodded. "And you learn what happens when you don't."
Syrus swallowed. "So… if we wanted to become pros, we'd have to learn this."
That line, talking about pros, pulled the conversation toward its deeper axis. Toward the thing Julian had been holding back, not because it was secret, but because it was heavier than simple dorm politics.
Julian watched the group. The boys, the girls. All of them young enough to think choices were pure and consequences were optional.
He didn't want to crush that. But he wouldn't lie to protect it either.
"You're talking about Obelisk." Julian said. "But Obelisk is a model."
Bastion blinked. "A model."
Julian nodded. "A microcosm."
Mindy's lips curved. "There it is."
Jaden frowned. "Of what?"
Julian answered steadily. "Syrus already said it. High society, the professional world."
Syrus's breath caught slightly.
Bastion's expression tightened in the way it did when he realized a problem was larger than he'd initially framed it.
Alexis didn't look surprised. She looked resigned.
"Most people here." Julian continued, "aren't here for grades. They're here for careers. Duel Academy isn't just a school. It's a pipeline."
Jaden's eyes narrowed. "Okay, but…"
"And pipelines come with gatekeepers." Julian cut his friend, finishing his thought.
Jaden's mouth tightened. "I hate that word."
"You should." Julian replied. "It deserves hate. But it exists nonetheless. Not everybody can become a pro. They would need millions of spots. It's like soccer, basketball or any other major sport."
Bastion's voice came out quiet. "So you're saying… if we can't handle Obelisk politics, we can't handle pro dueling politics."
Julian didn't make it absolute. He didn't turn it into a theorem. He treated it like reality: messy and uncomfortable.
"I'm saying you'll face it if that's your dream." he said. "In some form. Eventually."
Jaden's shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath. "But you can get there if you just duel." he insisted. "If you're good enough, you can just duel."
Mindy's eyebrows lifted. "That's adorable."
Jaden glared at her. "Hey!"
"I'm not insulting you." Mindy said. "I'm saying that belief is a luxury."
Jaden's glare faltered.
Julian stepped in before the edge could become a cut. "Jaden…" he said, not harshly, "in an ideal world, skill would be enough. In the real world, skill is often necessary but rarely sufficient."
Jaden looked like he wanted to argue, and then remembered Koyo.
It wasn't that he didn't believe Julian. It was that believing him meant admitting something ugly: that the dream wasn't clean.
Syrus spoke quietly. "Koyo had sponsors."
Julian nodded. "Of course, he was the world champion. He had contracts, media obligations, interviews, and a public image. People who wanted a piece of him."
Bastion's eyes sharpened. "And he had to navigate that without letting it control him."
"Yes." Julian said. "Or… he learned how to let it control him selectively. When to fight and when to go along in the journey."
Jaden's mouth twisted. "That sounds a lot like lying."
Alexis answered before Julian could. "It can be."
Mindy added, as if she were reciting something learned long ago: "But we also call it professionalism."
Jaden looked between them, frustrated. "That's the same word people use to justify being fake."
Jasmine spoke softly. "Sometimes being allegedly 'real' in public is just another performance."
That made Jaden go quiet again, jaw working.
Bastion's gaze slid back toward Obelisk. "So… what do you do?"
Julian didn't jump to solutions. He mapped the space.
"There are multiple paths." Julian said. "And all of them cost something."
Syrus's shoulders tightened. "Like what?"
Julian held up a finger. "First: you learn the game."
Mindy nodded once, approving. Julian held up a second finger. "Two: you find someone you trust to play it for you."
Bastion's eyes narrowed. "A manager."
Julian nodded. "An agent. A friend, a partner. Someone who can read rooms when you'd rather read decks."
Jaden looked skeptical. "That sounds like putting your life in someone else's hands."
"It is." Julian said simply. "That's the price."
Syrus's voice was small. "And the third?"
Julian held up a third finger. "You avoid the arena entirely."
Bastion blinked. "Meaning…?"
"Meaning…" Julian said. "You choose a different dream. You choose a different career. You become a teacher. A researcher. A deck engineer. A judge. A strategist behind the scenes. You can still love dueling without making your life a spectacle."
Bastion's expression shifted, something like relief and fear mixed together.
Jaden looked unsettled. "But if someone wants to be a pro…"
Julian's gaze settled on him. "Then they need to decide what kind of pro they want to be."
Mindy smirked faintly. "And what kind of person they're willing to become to get there."
That, more than anything, was the question.
Bastion's voice came out quieter now. "But Joey…"
Jaden's eyes flicked to him. "Yeah. Joey made it without being like Kaiba."
Julian nodded. "He did. And he didn't."
Jaden frowned. "What does that mean?"
Julian chose his words carefully, because he knew what Joey represented to someone like Jaden: proof that heart could compete with power.
"It means Joey had something Kaiba didn't." Julian said. "Relatability. Charm. Human warmth. That's capital."
Mindy made a small approving sound. "Social capital."
Julian nodded. "Exactly. Joey could walk into a room and make people like him without trying."
Jaden blinked. "That's true."
"But." Julian continued, "he also had friends who handled what he couldn't. People who kept him from getting swallowed."
Syrus frowned. "Like Tea."
Julian's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Tea is one example, yes. She was his professional manager. Yugi's too, even if he became able to play the game himself."
Bastion's eyes sharpened. "So you're saying we need a Tea."
Jaden's mouth twisted. "Do we have a Tea?"
The group went quiet.
That was the knife on the table.
Julian could feel their eyes shift: some toward him, some away, some inward. Because if you asked that question honestly, another question followed: Would Julian be their Tea? And if he was… would that be fair?
Julian spoke before the silence could turn into expectation.
"I can advise." he said calmly. "I can warn you when I see something coming. I can read a contract and tell you if it smells wrong. But I can't be your agent and negotiate it for you."
Bastion's eyes narrowed. "Why not?"
Julian didn't flinch. "Because it becomes unethical."
Syrus looked confused. "Unethical?"
Julian nodded. "If we're both professionals, we'll be competing in the same ecosystem. Sponsors, tournaments, exposure. There will be conflicts of interest. Even if we're friends, even if I'm trying to help you, it can become messy fast. Especially if we are competing for something."
Mindy's expression turned thoughtful. Alexis watched Julian closely, as if gauging whether he was saying this from principle or from something more personal.
"And I can't be everywhere. Neither can any manager you hire." Julian added quietly.
Jaden frowned. "So even if we had someone like that, we'd still need to learn some of it ourselves."
"Yes, at least on how to identify, disarm the situation and run away from it." Julian said.
Bastion exhaled slowly. "So Joey isn't proof that you can avoid politics. He's proof that you can outsource parts of it."
Julian nodded. "And that the cost of outsourcing is trust."
Jaden made a face. "On that level? That's hard."
Syrus laughed faintly, humorless. "Yeah."
Julian hesitated for a fraction of a second. Not for lack of response, but for recognizing its importance.
"Hard." he agreed. "And incomplete."
Jaden looked up at that. "Incomplete how?"
Julian's gaze drifted, not to Obelisk this time, but somewhere more distant, as if looking beyond the academy. Beyond the island.
"Joey was respected, sure." Julian said carefully. "Talented, in an everyman kind of way. Beloved. People rooted for him. But he was never… untouchable."
Bastion's brow furrowed. "You mean…"
"I mean that history remembers him differently." Julian finished. "Kaiba and Yugi became reference points. Benchmarks. Living myths. Joey became the proof that heart and grit could take you far… but not the face of an era."
Syrus swallowed. "Even though he was the third best."
"Other people can get you only that far. If you can't build that professional image, you can be a top player, but often forgotten when we talk about the best. Why did people remember specifically top one and top two? Why is Koyo's vice-champion not remembered?" Julian replied quietly.
Jaden's jaw tightened. "That's not fair."
"No." Julian agreed. "It isn't. But it is consistent."
Mindy tilted her head slightly. "Because legends aren't just about skill."
"They're about narrative." Julian said. "Control. Presence. Perception. Joey didn't play that game. And because of that, the world never fully bent around him."
Bastion absorbed that in silence. The idea clicked in a way that made him uncomfortable, not because it was cruel, but because it was structural.
"So outsourcing politics…" Bastion said slowly, "protects you… but also caps you."
Julian nodded. "It trades sovereignty for safety."
Syrus looked down at his hands. "So even when it works… you pay."
"Yes." Julian said. "You always pay when you are on the top. The question is just how."
Jaden stared at the ground for a long moment, then muttered, almost to himself. "So you can be happy. Or you can be historic."
Julian didn't correct him.
He only added, gently, "Sometimes you can be both. But that's rarer than people like to admit."
The silence that followed wasn't heavy. It was contemplative.
The kind that didn't ask for an answer right away. Only honesty, when the time came.
That led them, inevitably, back to the academy itself. Because the academy had already proven what happened when trust met cruelty.
Bastion's voice turned distant, almost academic in how he handled pain: by turning it into analysis.
"Then Obelisk isn't just training duelists." he said. "It's training… survivors."
Alexis's mouth tightened. "Or predators."
Jasmine shook her head slightly. "Those kind that one day will be called professionals."
Julian watched them. Watched how quickly the girls understood the double-bind, not because they were cynical, but because they'd lived inside a version of it for longer.
Jaden's voice came out quieter. "I don't want to become a predator."
Julian met his eyes. "Then don't."
Jaden blinked. "Is it that simple?"
Julian's answer was honest. "No."
The word hung there.
"But you can learn the rules without becoming cruel." Julian continued. "You can learn how to read a room without enjoying the manipulation. You can learn when to smile and when to stay silent without losing your core."
Bastion's eyes narrowed. "And you really believe that?"
Julian didn't answer like a preacher. He answered like someone who'd had to make the decision recently, in private, with consequences.
"I believe it's possible." Julian said. "I also believe it's harder than people admit."
Mindy's gaze flicked toward him. "And that most people fail."
Julian didn't deny it. "For sure."
Alexis exhaled slowly. "The reason people talk about nouveau riche like it's a joke, is because watching someone learn the rules in real time is embarrassing." she said.
Jaden frowned. "Why is it embarrassing? They're learning."
Alexis's eyes softened for a moment. "Because the Obelisk, as well as the high society, doesn't forgive awkwardness. It punishes it."
Syrus winced.
Bastion looked angry in a quiet way. "So it's not about being better. It's about being… polished."
"Polished, yeah." Mindy echoed. "Controlled, elegant."
"And never needing anything." Jasmine added.
Jaden stared. "That's impossible."
Jasmine's expression didn't change. "Yes, it is. What you show to the world is not the same as the truth. Appearances matter. Or do you think Zane never needed any kind of help? Or even someone like Yugi or Kaiba? But they have that feeling, of not needing no one. Of invincibility."
Julian watched Jaden absorb it, saw the conflict inside him: the desire to be the best duelist he could be, and the refusal to become someone he didn't recognize.
This was the crossroads. Not a dramatic one. The kind most people don't notice their choice until years later.
Bastion's voice came out thin. "So what you're saying is… if I ever want to go there, I have to learn the language."
"Yes." Alexis said.
Bastion frowned. "Even if I hate the language."
Mindy shrugged. "Especially if you hate it."
Jaden's eyes narrowed. "Or you choose not to go."
Julian nodded. "Precisely."
Bastion looked down. "But if I choose not to go… does that mean I'm choosing not to be a pro duelist?"
Julian didn't want to trap him. He wanted him to think.
"It depends on what kind of pro you want to be." Julian said. "There are tiers. There are circuits. There are roles within the ecosystem."
Bastion's eyes sharpened again. "So you can be professional without being… celebrity."
"Yes." Julian said. "But the higher you climb, the more unavoidable the politics become."
Jaden let out a breath. "So it's like… a boss fight that gets harder the closer you get to the top."
Mindy smiled. "That's a very Jaden way to put it. And yes."
Syrus's voice was small. "And what about me?"
Everyone looked at him.
Syrus's cheeks flushed immediately, like he regretted speaking. But he didn't retract it.
"I'm in Ra now." he said. "And… I want to be good. I want to be strong." His hands clenched. "But I don't know if I can ever be… that. Like the Obelisk. To do the same thing as my brother."
Julian watched him carefully. Syrus wasn't asking about skill. He was asking about worth.
Alexis answered gently. "Syrus, Obelisk isn't a measure of worth."
Mindy lifted an eyebrow. "It's a measure of access."
Jaden nodded quickly. "And you already proved you're worth a lot."
Syrus flinched slightly at the phrasing 'worth a lot' like it echoed words he didn't want echoed.
Julian stepped in before Syrus could spiral. "Syrus," he said steadily, "you're not behind because you're inferior. You're behind because you've been fighting with one hand tied behind your back."
Syrus swallowed.
Julian continued, voice calm but firm. "And now you're learning what it feels like to move without that weight."
Bastion's expression softened. "He's right."
Syrus's eyes flicked toward Bastion, then away again, embarrassed by being seen.
Alexis's gaze drifted toward the distant dorm, towards memory. "Atticus would've liked this conversation," she said quietly.
It wasn't a dramatic line. It was an accident. A truth that escaped.
Julian felt his chest tighten. Not because of romance. Because of that familiar, stubborn ache: someone missing, a life paused in mid-sentence.
Jaden's voice softened. "What would he have said?"
Alexis took a moment. "He would've said… you can survive up there without becoming cold."
Mindy snorted. "Only because he grew up in it. The rules were second nature to him."
Alexis's mouth tightened. "Maybe. But he was still… him."
Bastion's eyes narrowed. "Was he political?"
Alexis hesitated. Then, with a faint, sad smile: "He was… fluent. Without thinking about it."
Jaden frowned. "That's not fair."
"No." Alexis agreed. "It's not."
Jasmine spoke softly. "It's inheritance."
That word hit differently than "wealth". It didn't just mean money. It meant habits, protection, networks. A childhood where you learned how to smile at adults who mattered.
Bastion's voice came out tight. "So what does that mean for us?"
Julian's gaze swept the group: Bastion, Jaden, Syrus. Bright, earnest, stubborn. People who wanted to become great but didn't want greatness to cost their humanity.
And then Alexis, Mindy and Jasmine: people who had been taught, in quiet ways, what the cost would be whether they wanted it or not.
Julian didn't offer a verdict.
"It means…" he said. "That none of you are doomed. And none of you are exempt."
Jaden frowned. "That's… not comforting."
Julian's mouth curved slightly. "It's not supposed to be."
Mindy's smile sharpened. "Welcome to adulthood."
Jaden made a face. "Gross."
That earned a small laugh. From Syrus, surprisingly. A real one, even if it was brief. It cut through the heaviness like sunlight through cloud.
Julian watched it happen and felt something ease inside him. Not because the problem was solved. Because the group was still a group.
Bastion looked toward the dorm again, and this time the glance carried less fear and more… curiosity.
Julian noticed. He also noticed something else: the way Jaden had gone quieter, the way his eyes kept drifting away as if he were looking at a future he didn't want to admit existed.
Julian had seen Jaden chase duels like joy itself. But he'd also seen him cling to Koyo's promise like a lifeline. And promises had costs.
"You said earlier." Julian murmured, turning the conversation slightly without forcing it. "That you don't like this."
Jaden blinked. "Me?"
Julian nodded. "You. You don't like the idea of learning the game."
Jaden's mouth twisted. "Yeah. I don't."
Julian didn't push. He asked. "Why?"
Jaden stared at the grass for a moment, then shrugged, almost angry at himself for not having a clean answer. "Because if I start thinking like that… it stops being fun."
Silence. That was the most honest thing anyone had said so far.
Mindy's expression softened in a way she'd probably deny later. Alexis looked at Jaden with something like understanding. Jasmine watched him like she was memorizing the sentence.
Bastion's voice was quieter now. "But if you want to be a pro…"
Jaden's jaw tightened. "I know."
Julian watched him. This wasn't about intelligence. This was about identity. Jaden's power came from sincerity. The moment sincerity became a strategy, something inside him would rebel.
Julian didn't try to fix it. He simply laid the next stone.
"You don't need to become Kaiba." Julian said. "You don't need to become a shark. But you might need to learn how to swim with them."
Jaden's mouth tightened. "And if I don't?"
Julian answered honestly. "As I said, then you better find someone you trust who will. Otherwise, someone else will decide for you. The game will be played, no matter what."
Jaden frowned. "We don't have that. Everyone here wants to be pro."
Julian didn't immediately look at Alexis, Mindy or Jasmine. He didn't assign roles. He didn't volunteer anyone. He let the truth exist as a question instead of a solution.
Syrus's voice came out small. "What kind of things we can expect there?"
Bastion blinked. Alexis's eyes flicked to Syrus with surprise. Mindy looked thoughtful. Jasmine's gaze warmed slightly.
Jasmine thought for a second. "Other than the standard things you see in Obelisk? Contracts, media presence, negotiation."
Jaden groaned. "Nooooo."
Alexis smiled faintly. "Being a pro is being in the spotlight of the most prestigious competition in the world. A good contract can make you a millionaire easily, even outside of the top players."
Jaden shot her a look. "Et tu, Alexis?"
She gave him an innocent look. "I'm just saying."
Jasmine added quietly. "You can hate it and still learn it."
Jaden stared at her. "Can you?"
Jasmine's expression didn't change. But her voice was honest. "Julian already said it. You can learn it without letting it change your heart. Do you think Yugi is a bad person? Or Koyo? Zane? Julian? Us?"
Julian watched her and could say, as clear as the sky: she's not saying that because she's sure. She's saying it because she needs it to be true. Much like himself.
Bastion rubbed his hands together as if trying to warm them. "So the real question isn't 'can we become Obelisk.' It's…" He searched for it, then said it softly. "Do we want to become the kind of people who can survive there."
Julian nodded.
Alexis's voice was quiet. "And if you do… what do you lose?"
No one answered immediately. Because that was the forbidden part. The part no brochure mentioned.
Julian looked at his friends, at the people who had held onto each other in a place designed to separate them by color and privilege.
He thought of what Sheppard had implied in his office. Of the world outside the academy. Of contracts and cameras and dinners where a single wrong sentence could become a headline.
Then he looked at Bastion again. And he didn't give him some kind of finality. He gave him the only thing that was fair.
"This is a choice." Julian said softly. "One you don't have to make today. But one that Yugi, Kaiba, Koyo and everyone who lives at the top did. You can't become a superstar and want to go unnoticed to a mall, for example. Attention follows up, the sharks do it too."
Bastion's shoulders loosened by a fraction, like that alone helped. Jaden let out a slow breath, like he'd been holding it.
Syrus's eyes lowered, but he looked steadier. Alexis's gaze drifted away once again. Towards the horizon, the memory, and the absence. Mindy watched them all like she was cataloguing the emotional math. Jasmine stayed quiet, but present.
For a moment, it felt almost… normal. Like they were just kids talking about their future and not soldiers preparing for a world that would try to eat them alive.
And then Alexis spoke again, so quietly Julian almost missed it. "Julian."
He looked at her. Her composure held. But her eyes didn't. There was something there, tension that had nothing to do with dorms and everything to do with desperation.
"Can I talk to you… for a minute?" she asked.
Julian didn't hesitate. "Of course."
He rose, brushing grass from his hands, and followed her a few steps away from the group, close enough that everyone could see them, far enough that the words would belong only to them.
Behind him, he could feel the others' curiosity, their worry, their loyalty.
And in front of him, Alexis Rhodes stood like someone trying to hold a fracture together with her bare hands.
The exercise didn't end so much as it lost its grip on them.
It had started as training. Clean, contained, almost clinical in its intent. Feel the flare. Read the direction. Build the shield. Hold the line. Repeat until the body proved it could obey without the mind needing to negotiate.
But somewhere along the way, somewhere between Bastion's question and Julian's answer, between the names they'd used as examples and the futures they'd accidentally sketched out in the air, the practice stopped being just practice.
The field was still the same patch of grass near Slifer, sun-warmed and open to the sky. The breeze still carried the briny scent of the sea if you breathed in at the right angle. The dorm itself sat not far away, red and loud even at a distance, like a permanent heartbeat against the island's quieter corners.
And yet it felt, suddenly, like a smaller place.
Jaden flopped back first, not because he was exhausted, he rarely looked exhausted in the way other people did, but because his body had learned, over years, how to discharge tension by turning it into motion. He landed on the grass with a dramatic sigh, one arm thrown over his eyes like a stage actor dying beautifully.
"I swear." he said, voice muffled, "This was all too heavy stuff for me. Let future Jaden deal with that shit."
Syrus made a sound halfway between a laugh and a breath he'd been holding too long. He sat down more carefully, as if his legs were negotiating with him. One hand rubbed at the back of his neck. His shoulders still held a trace of the earlier reflex, the way a dog keeps listening even after the thunder passes.
Bastion didn't sit immediately. He stood with his hands on his hips, staring out across the field as if there were still a diagram suspended there that only he could see. He'd been the one most eager for structure, most frustrated when the proper answers didn't give him the comfort he expected. His brows pinched faintly, not in anger, but in the kind of mental recalibration that came after discovering a variable you hadn't accounted for. He had some thinking to do.
Alexis and her friends had drifted closer during the conversation. Jasmine's posture was quietly attentive during the whole ordeal, her gaze tracking each comment like she was watching a storm's pattern. Mindy had tried for playful commentary early on and then, at some point, something more profound came along. Something a little bit too real.
Julian remained crouched where he'd been, elbows resting on his knees, hands loose. A posture that looked casual until you noticed the way his eyes stayed alert, scanning. Even relaxed, he watched the world like it might move against him.
He didn't call out an official end. He didn't clap his hands and declare success. He simply let the moment settle, like dust in sunlight.
"Okay…" Jaden said, lifting his arm off his eyes and squinting up at the sky. "So. We are officially done for the day, right? Because my stomach is starting to think spiritual growth is less important than lunch leftovers."
"You already ate." Syrus pointed out automatically, then seemed to realize he'd spoken like a responsible adult and hated it. His mouth twitched. "I mean… yeah. Fine."
Jaden grinned, irrepressible. "That's why it's leftovers. For sure there are something at the dorm, I'll ask Banner for some."
Julian's mouth curved a fraction. A small expression, but genuine.
"You two are right. That's enough for today. Even if we changed the subject, we dealth with quite a bit of heavy stuff today. Just think about it, its your future. No decision is needed now." he said at last. His voice was calm, even. Not instructor-like. Not indulgent. Just decisive in the way someone is when they've learned that pushing past the right stopping point only teaches the wrong lesson.
Bastion exhaled slowly, as if he'd been waiting for permission to release tension without admitting he needed it. "Agreed."
Mindy tossed a blade of grass at Jaden without looking at him. "If you start calling this 'training camp' I'm leaving."
Jaden caught it and examined it with exaggerated seriousness. "This is a sacred blade of grass. I will treasure it."
"You're impossible." Jasmine muttered, but she was smiling now, and the smile looked like relief.
Julian straightened, brushing his palms on his pants. He glanced over them in a slow sweep: his friends, his peers, and the girls who'd been part of this orbit long before he'd earned the right to stand among them without being treated like a curiosity.
They looked… different. Not transformed. Not suddenly ready. But shifted, the way metal shifts after the first real heat touches it. Not stronger yet. Just aware.
Awareness was the beginning.
He started gathering his things with the same easy efficiency he brought to duels. The motion gave him something to do with his hands. Something to anchor the moment in something practical.
Jaden sat up, stretching his arms overhead. "So…" he said brightly, because of course he did, because the universe always gave him the first word after weight settled. "Who wants to see me try to flare just enough to make Bastion's hair stand up without making the entire island think there's an earthquake?"
Bastion gave him a flat look. "No."
"But it would be so cool!" Jaden insisted.
"It would be fatal, you mean." Bastion corrected.
Julian looked at Jaden over the edge of his Duel Disk case. "If you tried to give them a 'calf chill' with your reserve…" he said dryly. "You'd probably end up summoning a weather system."
Jaden's eyes lit up in immediate delight. "Right? See? That's what I'm saying! It's not my fault I'm spiritually… buff."
"It's not your fault." Julian agreed. "It's also not an excuse. Learn some control, man."
Jaden puffed out his chest, grinning. "Wow. Harsh."
"Once again, welcome to being a big boy." Julian replied, and the corner of his mouth threatened another smile.
Syrus watched the exchange with something softer in his expression. A month ago, he would have shrunk into himself at the thought of being the target of anyone's attention. Now he looked tired, yes, and still fragile at the edges, but he wasn't disappearing. He was staying present.
Bastion lowered himself to sit at last, fingers idly plucking at the grass. His gaze drifted, as it had several times earlier, toward the distant rise where the Obelisk dorm's silhouette could be glimpsed between trees and stone.
Julian noticed. He'd noticed each time, really, and filed it away the way he filed away a tell in a duel: not for immediate use, but because patterns mattered.
He didn't comment yet. Not with everyone's attention scattered, not with the practice's residue still clinging to them. He let the group decompress.
For a little while, they were just kids again. Duelists in uniform. Friends in sunlight. People who could argue about something as ridiculous as "spiritual concussion" and mean it.
Jaden launched into an over-dramatic retelling of the time Syrus "almost punched him" with his flare, complete with sound effects and a wild reenactment that involved Jaden falling backward twice and Syrus insisting, pink-cheeked, that it hadn't happened like that.
"I did not almost punch you," Syrus protested, voice rising a notch. "I just… moved my arm."
"In anger." Jaden accused.
"It was reflex!"
"Reflex… of wanting to punch me."
Syrus threw his hands up, exasperated. "You're twisting everything!"
Mindy laughed openly at that, and Jasmine covered her mouth again, shoulders shaking. Alexis watched with a faint, fond expression that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Julian let it happen. He let the levity do its work. Because it did work. It loosened knots. It gave their minds permission to step away from the heavier thoughts without betraying them.
And then, slowly, the energy began to settle.
People stood. Adjusted straps. Collected bags.
The sun had dipped lower. The light had turned honeyed, making the grass look almost unreal, like the kind of postcard image you'd expect from a brochure about the academy, not from the place where people got cornered in bathrooms and systems decided who belonged.
Julian turned again, and his eyes caught Alexis.
She was still. Composed.
But the composure looked like something actively maintained now, not effortless. Like someone holding a glass too full, careful not to spill.
He'd seen that look before. Not often. Alexis didn't wear vulnerability where people could grab it.
His instinct sharpened.
She shifted her weight slightly, as if preparing herself for something. Her gaze flicked. Not to Jaden, not even to the dorm, but to Julian himself. Then she spoke.
"Julian." Her voice was quiet enough that it didn't cut through the group like an announcement. It was a thread, offered rather than thrown. Julian caught it anyway.
He turned fully, giving her his attention with the kind of immediate seriousness that made the others pause by instinct.
"Yes?" he asked.
Alexis held his gaze for a beat. Her shoulders stayed straight. Her chin remained level. The shape of confidence remained intact.
But her eyes… her eyes weren't doing the same performance.
There was tension there, but not the sharp, social tension of dorm politics. This was something older. Something that lived under the skin. Something that didn't care about uniforms.
"Can I talk to you… for a minute?" she asked.
Julian didn't even think about it. "Of course."
He shifted his bag strap higher and followed her as she walked a few paces away from the others, toward a patch of grass that dipped slightly, creating a natural separation. Close enough for everyone to see them and know nothing was wrong. Far enough that the words would be theirs.
Behind him, the group's presence remained like a warm perimeter. He could feel curiosity, yes, but it wasn't invasive. It was protective. Loyal. The kind of attention that meant: If you need us, we're here.
Julian appreciated it more than he let show.
Alexis stopped and turned to face him. For a moment, she didn't speak.
Julian waited. He didn't rush her. With Alexis, silence often meant she was choosing the right words, not because she wanted to sound impressive, but because she wanted to be precise.
"I've been thinking…" she began finally.
Julian nodded once, inviting her to continue.
She drew a slow breath, and Julian saw the smallest tightening at her fingers, the way they curled and uncurled, then still again. A contained gesture. A tell.
"About what you said." Alexis continued, "about systems. About what they require of you." Her voice didn't waver, but there was a faint strain beneath it, like she was holding the line by force.
Julian's mind automatically tried to categorize the direction of the conversation. Obelisk expectations? Her own position? Something involving the girls? A problem with someone watching her too closely?
But then she said, softly. "About Atticus."
Everything inside Julian went still. Not shocked or surprised. It was something he honestly saw coming. But his name in regards to her made him alert in a different fashion.
Alexis watched him, and for a heartbeat her composure faltered, not visibly or dramatically. It just thinned. Like a veil caught on a thorn.
"I know this isn't the best timing." she said, too quickly, as if she feared the request itself was selfish. "You just… got promoted. Things are settling. And after everything with Syrus and Cauldwell and the Chancellor…"
"You don't need to justify asking me anything." Julian said gently.
The words landed between them like an anchor. Alexis blinked once. Her gaze held his, searching, not for permission, but for sincerity. For whether he meant it or was just being polite.
Julian meant it. He'd learned that the most dangerous thing you could do with someone who'd been holding pain alone was make them feel like they needed to earn the right to speak it.
Alexis exhaled.
"I can't keep waiting." she said. The sentence came out steady, but the truth beneath it trembled. "I thought I could. I told myself there would be a right moment. That I needed to be stronger. That I needed to… be composed. But I can't, not in regards to that. Not when I finally have a lead."
Her mouth tightened slightly at the last word, as if she hated it. Julian didn't interrupt.
"I want to go to the abandoned dorm," Alexis finally said.
There it was. Plain, direct. Almost clinical, because if she put emotion in it, it might spill.
Julian's thoughts flashed: not as narrative or prophecy, but as risk assessment. The abandoned dorm was a wound in the academy's geography. A place where the institution's polish ended and something older began. They'd circled it for weeks in conversation, in implication. A destination that carried weight because everyone avoided saying too much about it.
Julian knew the outline of the canon version. He knew the shape of what the anime had shown: the staged duel, the mercenary, the manufactured test.
But this was not that version. This academy was not a script. It was a living system.
And after everything they'd learned recently… About how cruelty could thrive in plain sight, about how rumors could steer entire dorms, about how politics and prestige could become weapons, Julian didn't trust any place that existed outside the institution's gaze.
"Alexis." he said carefully. "I don't think it's safe yet."
She nodded immediately. No argument. No denial. As if she'd been expecting that and had already accepted it. "I know."
Julian felt something twist in his chest at how quickly she said it.
"I can't promise answers." he continued.
"I know."
"I can't promise we won't make things worse by going." Julian said, voice quiet but firm. "Some places… some things… react to attention. To grief. To people searching."
Alexis swallowed. The smallest motion, but Julian saw it. "I know."
He took a slow breath, buying time for honesty.
There was a refusal available to him. A responsible refusal. The kind of refusal he could justify to himself: Not yet. Too soon. Too risky. The academy is unstable. The spiritual ecosystem is unstable. You're not ready. You're not strong enough.
He could say it. He could hold the line. But then Alexis looked at him.
She wasn't pleading. She wasn't performing desperation. She was still Alexis Rhodes, still controlled, still proud.
It was her eyes that betrayed her. Not tears. Not melodrama. Just an unguarded depth of want that almost hurt to witness. She wanted closure so badly she'd started to look hollow around the edges.
Julian understood, with a clarity that made his throat tighten, that Alexis wasn't asking because she thought it would be easy. She was asking because not moving forward felt like drowning slowly. And Julian… Julian had become, whether he wanted to or not, the kind of person people asked when they had nowhere else to put their fear.
He looked away for a second, not to avoid her, but to think. His gaze drifted across the field to where the others stood, pretending not to watch while very obviously watching. Jaden's posture had shifted subtly. Lighter energy gone, attention keyed in. Syrus held himself very still, as if sudden movement would be disrespectful. Bastion's eyes tracked Julian with quiet focus. Even Mindy and Jasmine had fallen silent.
They weren't listening in. They were just… there. Julian looked back at Alexis.
"You would go no matter what, so I'll be there beside you." he said.
Alexis's breath hitched. Just barely. Her composure remained, but her eyes widened a fraction as if she'd been bracing for rejection and hadn't let herself imagine this.
Julian raised a hand slightly, not to stop her, but to frame the terms before emotion took the steering wheel.
"Just the two of us, too many people can gather the attention of things there." he added. "And we'll not go unprepared, or in a spontaneous walk. Give me a week. We plan this, bring safeguards. Tell at least Jaden in case we need a backup. And the moment I think it's too much, we leave."
Alexis nodded quickly. "Of course. I wouldn't ask you to do it recklessly." Her voice came out softer now.
Julian's mouth tightened a little. "I don't think you'd ask at all if you didn't feel like you were running out of time."
That struck something in her face. Not anger. A flush of red, akin to a child being caught in a prank. For a moment, she looked away.
When she looked back, her eyes were steadier. Not because the pain had gone, but because she'd been seen.
"Thank you." she said, quiet and sincere.
Julian nodded once. He wanted to say something comforting, something like we'll find him or we'll fix it.
He didn't. He'd learned that promises made in the shadow of grief could become knives later.
Instead he said, "We'll take this one step at a time and come out with more than we have."
Alexis's lips pressed together, then eased. It seems like she knew what roamed his head at the moment, his very own thoughts made public to her glance. "Yes."
The wind shifted. Somewhere in the distance, someone shouted from the Slifer dorm, and the sound carried faintly across the grass, grounding the moment in the academy's ordinary noise.
Julian felt the weight of his decision settle into place.
He was making a choice. Not because of prophecy or fate, but because he cared about that blonde girl that surrounded her shattered glass of a heart in a veneer of composure, manners and elegance.
He turned slightly, signaling the end of the private exchange. Not abrupt or dismissive, just a natural pivot back toward the group.
Alexis matched the movement and walked with him, composure returning more fully now that the request had been spoken and answered.
They approached the others, and immediately Julian could sense the questions stacked behind their faces.
Jaden was the first to speak, because Jaden always was.
"Everything okay?" he asked, light tone, serious eyes.
Alexis answered before Julian could. "Yes." she said, and it was technically true. "I just needed to talk to him about something personal."
Mindy's gaze flicked between them. She didn't press, but she didn't look fooled either. The two girls could already probably imagine what the conversation was about.
Bastion adjusted his vest, expression carefully neutral. Syrus looked at Julian, and Julian felt the smallest tightening of that bond between them. The unspoken awareness of what it meant when someone asked Julian for help the way Syrus had asked for help, even indirectly.
Julian didn't explain. Not yet. This wasn't the place, and it wasn't the time. The field was open, the sky wide, and the academy's invisible ears always had better reach than people thought.
Instead he said, practical, "We're done for the day. Go rest. Eat. Do something normal."
Jaden brightened again on instinct, grateful for direction. "Yes. Normal! I vote we do something extremely normal, like…"
"Like not getting spiritually jump-scared." Mindy cut in.
"That was training." Jaden defended.
"That was you being you. And him being a sadist." Mindy countered, looking at Julian.
Jaden grinned, laughing unbothered. "Same thing."
Julian glanced at Alexis one more time, just briefly. Her composure was back. Her shoulders were straight again. She looked, outwardly, like she always did.
But something behind her eyes was different now. Not resolved. Just… less alone.
Julian turned his gaze toward the horizon for a moment, in the direction where the academy's older parts waited behind locked doors and rumors.
He didn't let himself dramatize it. He didn't let himself narrate it like a story beat.
He simply acknowledged, privately, that the next step mattered. Then he looked back the girl and finished in a low tone, for only her ears. "Tomorrow, we'll talk details."
It wasn't a promise of victory. It was a promise of presence.
And as they began to disperse: bags slung, jokes resumed, the field slowly returning to ordinary, Julian carried the weight of what he'd agreed to like a stone in his pocket.
Small enough that no one else could see it. Heavy enough that he could feel it with every step.