Chapter 150| East Courtyard Trouble

Chapter 150: Chapter 150| East Courtyard Trouble

It was exactly 12:20 PM as Zane checked his communicator.

The east courtyard was already crowded when Zane reached it. A few second years sprawled on the grass, a cluster of first years argued over a tablet, and the low stone wall along the far edge caught the full noon sun.

Ryan was sitting on it.

Alone. One ankle crossed over the other, a water bottle balanced on his knee, looking like a man who’d been invited to a picnic and had arrived first.

’Of course,’ Zane thought.

『 System Note: Ryan Castellan is waiting for the host. The system recommends keeping his hands visible. 』

’He’s not going to jump me.’

『 The system recommends it anyway. 』

Zane crossed the grass and stopped three steps short of the wall.

"Calloway," Ryan said, raising a hand in a lazy salute. "Right on time."

"You said lunch," Zane said.

"I said East courtyard." Ryan smiled. "Maren’s still in Arena Two, I think. Which gives us a few minutes."

"For what?" Zane asked.

"A chat," Ryan replied.

Zane didn’t sit. Ryan didn’t seem to expect him to.

"You’ve had a busy few days," Ryan said. "Nyx in Arena 3 on Saturday. Vael’s office this morning, eight sharp, door shut. Even Mori’s been looking at you in class like you owe her money." He tilted his head. "That’s a lot of attention for someone who was a nobody six weeks ago."

"Never knew I was being stalked," Zane said.

"It’s not stalking if it keeps being true." Ryan took a sip from the water bottle and capped it. "I’m not complaining. I’m just curious how it works. A sigilless kid walks in off a waiting list, and a month later the instructors are lining up to cover for him."

"Nobody’s covering for me."

"No?" Ryan’s eyes narrowed with interest. "Funny. It looks like it from where I sit."

A group of students passed behind them. Ryan waited for them to clear earshot, and his voice dropped half a tone.

"Everyone knows why, of course," he said. "It’s the name."

Zane’s jaw tightened.

"Calloway. Sovereign’s son. Hero legacy, tragic backstory, Harbor Collapse hanging over everything like a nice little halo." Ryan said it softly, almost kindly. "The NSA loves a story. They’ll bend a lot of rules for a good one."

"Careful," Zane said.

"Or what?" Ryan said, amused.

"Or I stop being polite."

"Were you being polite?" Ryan laughed under his breath. "My mistake."

The courtyard noise went on around them. Somewhere a bell rang for the lunch break.

Ryan slid off the wall and straightened. He was a few centimetres taller than Zane, and he stood like it mattered.

"Here’s what I don’t understand," Ryan said. "Your father went into Harbor knowing the odds. Category S, the whole district. Everyone who survived says he held the line for twenty minutes, and then he didn’t." He shrugged. "A hero dies, the public cries, the family gets a plaque. That’s the deal. We all sign up for it."

Zane’s hands curled at his sides. Not quite fists.

"But the son," Ryan went on, "walks into Aldren and gets treated like he’s already earned something. Like dying was a qualification." He tilted his head. "I’m not saying it’s your fault. I’m saying the rest of us didn’t get that."

『 System Note: Host heart rate is elevated. Output spike risk is low. The system recommends breathing. 』

’I’m breathing.’

『 Slower. 』

Zane took a breath. Held it. Let it out through his nose.

"Are you finished?" he asked.

"Almost." Ryan’s smile didn’t change. "I’d like to make you an offer."

"I’m listening."

"A practice duel. Arena One. Wednesday afternoon, open gallery, no instructors on the floor, just a referee." He tapped his own chest. "Me against you. Whatever Sigils you want. Whatever ranks you want. If you win, I’ll stop talking about it." A beat. "If I win, you stop pretending you belong here."

The air in the courtyard tightened a notch.

Zane looked at him for a long moment.

He thought about Vael’s voice from that morning, low and level. No unsupervised testing. Log anything unusual. He thought about the Overdrive ceiling at B-rank 40%, the Impact Breaker ceiling sitting at ten, and the third slot that still couldn’t lift a finger.

Everything had been converging on this moment. The spar with Nyx, the Afterimage unlock, the flagged log, the folder with four digits in a box. Ryan hadn’t planned any of it, but his timing couldn’t have been better.

’A public duel,’ he thought. ’In front of an audience, against Ryan, a B-rank with Pressure Wave. I knew I’d end up facing him eventually, but I didn’t think it would come this quick.’

『 System Note: Ryan Castellan — Pressure Wave, B-rank. His signature is on record from the rank trials. His current output ceiling is unknown. The risk is non-trivial. 』

’Thanks for the warning.’

『 The system is also noting that refusal has a cost. 』

"I’ll think about it," Zane said.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "That’s not a no."

"It’s not a yes either."

"Fair." Ryan took a step back, hands lifting in mock surrender. "Take your time. Wednesday’s a long way off. Until then..."

"Zane!"

The voice cracked across the courtyard like a whip.

Both of them turned.

Maren was crossing the grass at a fast walk, still in her blue hero suit, hair slightly mussed from whatever she’d been doing in Arena Two. Nil trailed two paces behind her, one hand shading her eyes, a bottle of juice hanging from her fingers.

"There you are," Maren said. Her eyes flicked to Ryan, then back to Zane, then to Ryan again, and her whole posture shifted a fraction. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all," Ryan said pleasantly. "Just catching up."

"Looked tense from across the field," Nil said, finishing a swallow of juice. She studied Ryan with open, unashamed curiosity. "Castellan, right? You always look like that, or is it just around Zane?"

"I look like this around everyone," Ryan said.

"That’s not reassuring," Nil said.

Ryan’s smile held, but it stayed on his mouth and went nowhere near his eyes. He tipped his head toward Zane.

"Wednesday," he said. "Arena One. Think it over."

He walked away across the grass, hands in his pockets, unhurried.

Maren watched him go. Her jaw was set.

"Wednesday?" she asked, turning to Zane.

"He challenged me to a duel," Zane said.

"A duel," Nil repeated, her eyes lighting up. "In Arena One? With a gallery?"

"Open gallery," Zane said. "No instructors on the floor."

"And you said?"

"That I’d think about it."

Maren looked at him for a long time. The fine lines around her mouth had hardened, the way they did when she was angry on someone else’s behalf.

"He said something about your father," she said.

It wasn’t a question.

"Yeah," Zane said.

"I could hear it from the walkway."

"It’s fine."

"It’s not fine." Maren folded her arms. "If you’re going to do this, I’m coming to watch."

"You don’t have to."

"I’m coming," Maren said, and the tone left no room for argument.

"Me too," Nil said cheerfully. "I’ll bring snacks."

"You’re not bringing snacks," Maren said.

"I’m absolutely bringing snacks."

Zane let out a breath that was half laugh, half something looser. The tightness in his chest eased a little.

『 System Note: Ryan Castellan has now revealed his intent. The system recommends gathering information before Wednesday. 』

’I know.’

『 The system recommends also eating lunch. 』

"Lunch?" he asked, glancing between the two girls.

"Lunch," Maren said firmly, and started toward the cafeteria.

Zane followed. Nil fell into step beside him, nudging his elbow with hers.

"Don’t let him get in your head," she murmured.

"I’m not."

"You are a little."

"Maybe a little," Zane admitted.

She grinned and said nothing more. Ahead of them, Maren walked a few paces faster than the rest of the group, back straight, hands tight at her sides.

Behind them the courtyard stayed bright and noisy, and none of it mattered. In two days he’d have the chance to get back at Ryan. Zane just didn’t know whether taking it was the right choice.

’Wednesday,’ he thought.

He caught up to Maren at the cafeteria door.