Kira’s eyes gleamed with something that might have been amusement or might have been challenge—it was always hard to tell with her. "Is there, though? Because from where I was sitting in the stands, watching the whole thing unfold in real-time, it looked an awful lot like he was actively winning right before the professors decided to step in and stop it."

Reyna’s jaw tightened involuntarily, muscle tensing beneath skin. "He got lucky. That’s all."

"Twice?" Leo finally pushed off from his wall, straightening to his full height. "He got lucky when his lightning absorption trick perfectly countered your marionettes’ primary attack pattern. Got lucky again when that invulnerability ability of his let him close the distance despite everything you threw at him. Got lucky a third time when that kinetic conversion thing made him objectively stronger with each hit he took." He spread his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. "At some point, Rey, luck stops being luck and starts being something else entirely. Something more like skill. Or preparation. Or both."

The words settled into the room like stones dropping into still water, creating ripples of uncomfortable silence.

Takamura leaned forward, massive forearms resting on his knees, his scarred face suddenly serious in a way that meant he’d stopped playing the jovial instructor and started being the A-Rank Hunter who’d survived things that would have killed most people. "Rey. Real talk, no bullshit. Is Nakano dangerous? And I mean genuinely dangerous, not just ’annoying opponent’ dangerous."

She thought about it. Really thought about it, letting herself examine the question from every angle instead of just giving the reflexive answer her pride demanded.

She thought about the way Satori had moved after absorbing her lightning strikes, his body language shifting from defensive wariness to aggressive confidence in the space of heartbeats. About how his physical stats had seemed to climb in real-time during their fight, getting measurably faster and noticeably stronger as the engagement progressed—something that shouldn’t have been possible with what his official file listed as his Aspect. About the absolute, unshakeable certainty she’d seen written in his eyes when he’d charged her position, expression calm and assured, like he knew something fundamental about the situation that she didn’t.

About the smile he’d worn while getting hit.

"Yes," she said finally, the word coming out quieter than she’d intended. "He’s dangerous."

"How dangerous are we talking?" Takamura pressed, watching her carefully. "Scale of one to ’we’re fucked.’"

"I don’t know yet." She pulled up the footage on her own phone, the motion automatic at this point, and angled the screen so they could all see the exact moment when Lightning Rod had activated—when her supposedly unstoppable attack had been rendered completely and utterly harmless. "But he had specific, targeted counters for every single technique I threw at him. Every. Single. One. That’s not coincidence or dumb luck."

Diego whistled low, a sound of genuine appreciation mixed with concern. "Someone’s been doing their homework on our Comet."

"Or someone’s cheating," Leo suggested, his tone clinical and detached. "Illegal augmentation, maybe? Black market cognitive enhancements? There are ways to boost reaction time and processing speed if you know the right dealers and don’t mind the side effects."

"No." The word came out harder and more defensive than Reyna had intended, sharp enough that all eyes in the room immediately swiveled to focus on her. She forced herself to continue in a more measured tone. "He’s not that type."

Takamura’s grin returned, lazy and knowing. "You defending him now, Comet? That’s interesting character development."

"I’m stating objective facts based on careful observation of behavioral patterns," she said coldly, pulling her professional mask back into place like armor. "Nakano fights smart, not dirty. If he actually had illegal enhancements running through his system, he’d show more consistent and predictable power output across the board. What I witnessed firsthand was adaptive strategy executed in real-time. There’s a difference."

"Sure it was." Kira’s smile was entirely too knowing, the expression of someone who’d figured out a secret and was enjoying keeping it. "That’s definitely why you’re up at midnight analyzing the same footage frame by frame instead of sleeping like a normal person."

Reyna deliberately ignored her, turning her attention back to the group as a whole. "The tournament’s in four weeks. We need to focus our energy on our own preparation and training regimen, not obsess endlessly about what the Hounds might or might not be planning."

"Agreed on that front," Takamura said, his expression settling back into something more serious. "But we also need to acknowledge the reality of our current situation with clear eyes. The Hounds aren’t the joke everyone in this academy thought they’d be at the start of the year. They’re well-coordinated as a unit. Highly motivated by being underestimated. And they’ve got Nakano running point as their primary offensive weapon, which means they’re tactically unpredictable in ways that make them genuinely threatening."

"Unpredictable opponents can be countered with the right approach," Reyna said firmly, her strategic mind already working through possibilities. "We just need to force them into positions and scenarios where creativity and adaptation don’t matter as much. Where raw power and superior attributes decide the final outcome."

"And you’ve got raw power in spades," Diego added with an encouraging grin. "More than almost anyone else in our year."

"We all do," Reyna corrected, looking at each of them in turn with the intensity that had earned her the Comet nickname. "Four weeks. We train harder than we’ve ever trained in our lives. We perfect our team synergy until we can fight as a single unit. And when the tournament finally starts and all eyes are watching, we remind everyone in this entire academy exactly why the Scarlet Phantoms are feared."

"Now that’s what I like to hear." Takamura stood with the kind of casual power that made the movement look effortless despite his massive frame, casting long shadows across the room. "Tomorrow morning, 0500 sharp. Full combat drills with live ammunition. No mercy, no excuses."

The team groaned collectively but nodded their acceptance, already mentally preparing for the brutal training session to come.

As the others began to disperse, heading back to their respective rooms, Reyna’s phone buzzed again with insistent urgency. Veronica this time, the caller ID flashing her sister’s name—probably calling to gloat about something related to Olympus Rising’s latest PR victory or to needle her about the Crucible match.

She ignored it with practiced ease.

Instead, she pulled up Satori’s official profile on the Academy’s student database, the sanitized version full of carefully worded half-truths and convenient omissions.

SATORI NAKANO

Age: 18

Current Rank: C (High)

Registered Aspect: Thermal Incision

Guild Affiliation: Onyx Hounds

Academic Status: Active, First Year

She found herself staring at the identification photo attached to his file. His face looked noticeably younger in the picture, taken during the entrance examination period months ago. This was before the Necropolis raid. Before the Arborist incident. Before whatever sequence of events had changed him from whoever he’d been into whatever he was actively becoming.

The gap between the boy in this photo and the fighter she’d faced in the Crucible felt vast enough to be concerning.

Veronica had been right about one thing, damn her.

Satori Nakano was genuinely interesting.

And Reyna couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him, analyzing him, trying to solve the puzzle he represented—which was rapidly becoming a problem she’d need to address sooner rather than later.

But later.

After she figured out what the hell he really was beneath all the lies and misdirection.

After she understood exactly what kind of threat—or opportunity—he actually represented.