Dawn crept into the facility slowly, like it wasn't sure it was welcome.
In one of the girls' dormitory rooms — four beds, decent space, the kind of room that felt almost normal if you didn't think too hard about where you were — Fatima lay half-submerged in sleep while Fiona sat up, scrolling through her tablet. Their other two roommates hadn't moved. But the rest of the girls' dorm was anything but quiet.
Voices bled through the walls. Giggling. Whispering. The occasional gasp.
Kai this. Kai that. Did you see his eyes? He looks like something out of a painting.
Fatima groaned and pulled herself upright, dragging a hand down her face. "What is wrong with them." It wasn't even a question. Just exhaustion wearing the shape of one.
"They're not exactly wrong," Fiona said, not looking up from her tablet.
"I get that he's attractive." Fatima swung her legs off the bed. "But I think Daniel is more interesting."
That made Fiona look up.
She studied Fatima for a moment, then let a small smile form. "More interesting. Or more attractive?"
"Don't put words in my mouth."
"You literally just said—"
"I said interesting." Fatima stood, rolling her neck. "He's not my type anyway. Too easy to fluster."
"Meaning you've tried."
Fatima didn't answer that directly. "Anytime I get remotely comfortable around him, he short-circuits. It's funny the first time. After that it just gets old."
"So what are you going to do about him?"
The voice came from the doorway.
Harada stepped in without knocking — which, by now, nobody expected her to do. She had dark circles under her eyes and the particular energy of someone whose morning had already been ruined before it started.
"That Kai hype killed my sleep," she said flatly, dropping onto the edge of Fatima's bed like she owned it. "So. Daniel. What's your move?"
Fatima was quiet for a moment.
"Honestly?" She sat back down beside her. "At first I wanted to use him."
Neither Fiona nor Harada looked surprised.
"But the Crucible is coming." Her voice shifted — something more measured underneath it now. "And that's going to be a different kind of war. So for now... I keep him close. That's enough."
Fiona nodded slowly. "Smart."
Harada turned to Fiona with a look that had too much mischief in it for this early in the morning. "And what about Ayo?"
Fiona's expression curdled. "Absolutely not. Where did that even come from?"
Harada laughed — properly laughed — and Fatima joined her, and for a moment the room felt almost light.
Across the facility, Ayo sneezed so hard he nearly fell off his bed.
Tunde glanced over from where he was already dressed. "Bro. Who did you offend?"
"I don't know." Ayo sniffed, genuinely confused. "Felt like someone was talking about me."
On the other side of the room, Daniel was waking up the way he always did — slowly, like the world had to negotiate with him. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, stared at nothing for a few seconds.
Chinedu was already up too, stretching his arms above his head with a long, quiet yawn.
"Since you two are finally among the living," Tunde said, "let's go get breakfast."
Ayo stood, rolling his shoulders. "We still haven't gotten any real information about the next stage. Those prep classes better not be a waste of time."
"Think about it." Chinedu reached for his tracksuit. "They're calling it the Crucible. If they're running classes first, it means they actually want us prepared. That's not generosity — that's them making sure we don't fall apart before the real thing starts."
Daniel yawned again. "Yeah. You're right." He sat there another moment, then pushed himself up. "Yo — before food, let's walk. Just stretch out a bit, get the blood moving."
"Not a bad call," Tunde agreed.
They filed out into the corridor together, the four of them easy in each other's company — talking about nothing in particular, laughing at something Ayo said that wasn't even that funny but landed right. The kind of morning that almost made you forget what you were actually here for.
They were cutting through the corridor toward the East Wing field when they saw them.
Two figures. Standing still. Watching.
Obinna and Hassan.
The moment Obinna's eyes found the group, they moved — scanning — and then landed on Chinedu. And something shifted in his face. Not surprise. More like relief, or hunger, or something that sat uncomfortably between the two.
"Yo." His voice was warm, deliberately so. "I've been wanting to link up with you since I got here."
Tunde and Ayo both turned to Chinedu at the same time.
"You know him?" they said together.
Chinedu didn't answer immediately. The ease that had been in him all morning — the looseness of a good walk, good company — was gone. What replaced it wasn't anger, exactly. It was the absence of everything else. His face went flat. Controlled. Like a door being shut from the inside.
"He's my brother."
The corridor went quiet.
Daniel already knew. He'd pieced it together. But even he felt the weight of hearing it said out loud.
Obinna stepped forward and moved to hug him.
Chinedu's hand came up and pushed him back. Not violent. Deliberate. Final.
"Don't." His voice was low. "Don't ever touch me."
Hassan tilted his head slightly, that same unreadable smile on his face. "Beautiful reunion."
"Bro." Tunde stepped forward, brow furrowed. "Why are you—"
"That's not cool," Ayo said. "He's your brother, man."
Chinedu looked at them both. Something behind his eyes told them clearly — you don't have the full picture. Don't.
Obinna raised a hand toward them. "It's fine. Stay out of it." Then, to Chinedu, quieter: "I already said I'm sorry. How many times? I've said it. I'm saying it now. I missed you, bro. I want to fix this."
Chinedu walked toward him. Slowly. Until they were close enough that his voice didn't need to be raised.
"Will fixing it bring Dad back?" The words came out even, not cracked, which made them hit harder. "Will it make Mum better? Will it undo what you did to this family?"
"That's not—it wasn't entirely my fault. I know what I did was wrong, but you can't keep—"
"Hate," Chinedu said, cutting through him, "is too small a word for what I have for you." He held his gaze for one long second. "If we meet on a match in the Crucible — and we will — I will take you apart. Not because I'm angry." A pause. "Because you deserve it."
He turned and walked away.
Daniel, Tunde, and Ayo followed — none of them speaking. The corridor felt heavier behind them.
Obinna stood still for a moment. Then his hand curled slowly into a fist.
And then — he smiled.
Not a bitter smile. Not a sad one. Something worse. Something that came from somewhere too deep.
Hassan watched it happen and took a half step back. "...Bro. Why are you smiling like that? That's terrifying."
Obinna's voice was almost gentle. "Because that's the most he's looked at me in years." His eyes were still fixed on the empty corridor where Chinedu had disappeared. "And it makes my heart race."
Hassan stared at him for a long moment, then quietly murmured a verse under his breath.
He needed it.