"Now." Richard spoke, as his hand holding back Thomas was released.

Thomas blurred into the ring and his rod slammed the ground before they could blink. Causing a shockwave that tore across the arena.

He looked between Dean and Marcus as the crowd lowered their heads instinctively.

A chilling silence followed. There were no cheers or even claps. Just dread.

Thomas then turned to Dean with a hardened expression.

"You broke the rules... Gray."

Dean’s jaw tightened. "But–"

"I don’t want to hear it." Thomas snapped.

Dean went quiet, Arguing wouldn’t help anyone.

His eyes shifted to Astrea instead. She was already looking at him. Her red eyes were calm and silent.

Those eyes didn’t carry pity nor fear. It was something else.

An understanding, maybe. Like she’d stood exactly where he was right now.

Thomas’s voice cut in. Bringing him back to reality.

"You’re on probation. Until I–"

Marcus raised a hand to intercept Thomas, his lips opening to speak, then he coughed. As blood spilled from his mouth onto the floor.

But still, he forced words out.

"I want a rematch, Gr—" he couldn’t finish before he grunted again. Holding his midsection.

Thomas shook his head.

Was he just disappointed or there was something else.

Dean didn’t know what to really think, but he knew one thing was certain.

One more mistake... and he was done here. His stomach dropped at the thought.

He watched Ash return to its original form then bounce back onto his shoulder like nothing had happened.

But he knew better. It wasn’t nothing. Ash had felt him. His unhinged rage. And it had answered like it was its own.

"Everyone back to your seats..We are end-" Thomas announced.

"No," a familiar voice came.

The last time everyone heard it. It told them to be ready to be pushed to their limits.

All heads turned to see Richard Vaughn standing at the rear entrance of the arena, leaning on his cane.

"Continue as proposed."

Thomas hesitated for a moment, only for a moment, then nodded.

Everyone else didn’t argue.

Two pack members hauled Marcus up, supporting him on both sides.

He was still bleeding, barely conscious, but his eyes never left Dean for a second.

The other Argents glared at Dean as if they were memorizing his face.

Dean turned off Hermit’s Eyes and walked back.

Astrea walked beside him. But neither spoke.

’Just say Thank you... God damnit,’ Dean thought.

’Later..’ he decided.

One thing was certain, if she hadn’t stopped him when she did. Marcus would be dead. And he would have done it again. Like last time.

Dean flexed his fingers. He could still feel it.

The kinetic energy building in his fist, the volcanic burst waiting to release.

One more second and Marcus would’ve taken it full force.

The intent behind his fist.

He exhaled. "Never again..."

***

The stares followed him back to his seat. And this time... they felt so familiar.

Maybe too familiar.

"Dean, are you—"

"Stop asking that." Dean snapped at him.

Olsen went quiet, but he didn’t look away, though. Just watched.

Dean sat down, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I’m fine," he said much softer.

Truthfully, he wasn’t. Far from it actually.

Through Resonance, he felt it. That hunger was still there, still poised inside Ash like a predator waiting to pounce.

It wasn’t just his anger anymore. But not entirely Ash’s either.

It was somewhere in between. Something they shared.

’Was this part of the True bond?’

’I need to control this.’ He thought.

Dr Thomas had proposed therapy to him on his first day here. And Dean had decided not to go.

’Yeah... no.’ He killed the thought again.

"Next match," Thomas called.

"Von Vermith Astrea. Louis Saint. Step up."

The arena shifted without question, and even Dean looked up.

***

Astrea stood up and for the first time, there was tension in her posture.

"Too early," she muttered to herself. She shouldn’t be getting into fights or spars this early.

She stepped into the ring with hesitation. And looked around for her opponent to no avail.

Then suddenly she heard it.

A second heartbeat.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

And before she could investigate further.

The air rippled as a boy appeared merely 10 feet from her.

The boy wore a black tank-top and blue track suit trousers. His dress sense was all over the place but his looks were different.

His spiky white hair contrasted his icy blue eyes perfectly. Though she still found him weird.

***

Though the entrance felt sleek and both the participants looked calm.

Dean frowned slightly. There was something he was missing. A joke in here somewhere. But his mind was too pre-occupied.

Thomas spoke even as he stood between them.

"There are two new rules for this match."

"One: Channeling only. No full summons."

He raised two fingers.

"Two: No S-tier skills."

Dean leaned forward. ’S-tier? What are those?’

Both fighters nodded like the restrictions were fair. And they understood the assignment.

"Begin!"

<><><>

The shift in the arena was immediate. As pressure filled the space.

Louis ignited first. As flames wrapped around him as a cloak, it was first orange, then white and after burning for a second turned blue.

The ground beneath him cracked as heat rolled outward in a wave.

Dean’s hand moved to his forehead. Already sweating. And Louis hadn’t even attacked yet.

"...Damn."

Across from Louis. Astrea didn’t move. She didn’t even flinch.

Merely, raising her hand, the air turned red.

Blood gathered seemingly formed from air. It condensed rapidly to create spears easily the size of a full grown man.

They launched without warning. Moving without delay or permission.

Louis moved instantly. As scorching blue fire met blood in mid air.

Steam exploded across the arena. The air hissed and trembled in disapproval as the stone cracked.

Dean leaned forward slightly.

These two weren’t even trying and yet...

***

The fight intensified as their movements went from very fast to literal blurs.

Louis has created a dragon from fire which rose upwards. Only to be skewered and pinned into the ground by a massive blood spear.

The impact thundered through the space.

Ash shifted on his shoulder, eyes tracking every movement.

Through Resonance, Dean could tell it wasn’t hunger this time but fascination.

The slime was studying them.

[Observing advanced techniques...]

[Current level insufficient for analysis]

Dean dismissed the system, he’d seen several notifications before now but this wasn’t the time nor was it the place.

The very environment pulled him in instead.

The comfort that came with chaos.

It was something he always relied on. Always had to rely on.

The noise, violence and pressure. The fact he didn’t need to pretend. Didn’t need to wear masks for approval.

In this chaos, All he had to do was act and survive. That was how he lived all his life.

He exhaled slowly.

"Could that be the problem?" he muttered while he glanced at Ash.

In the ring, A blood tendril missed Louis by a few inches and slammed into the ceiling.

The impact shook the arena to its core. As

debris rained down.

Students flinched, covered their heads. Thomas raised his rod instinctively, ready to shield them as green light spread from his body.

"Stop....Enough!"

Richard’s voice cut through everything with a calmness that carried authority and no effort.

The energy in the arena... stalled. Every head looked to the principal and then to the ceiling that was still groaning.

Astrea lowered her hand first and Louis followed.

The uncomfortable silence that followed couldn’t be missed even by someone who was already deaf.

Dean leaned back on his seat. Eyes still on the ring. Watching the steam cleared.

This was the difference. The fact that they didn’t lose control.

They chose how far to go and didn’t over step.

His jaw tightened. As he silently acknowledged it.

There was so much ground he had to cover to stand a chance in this world.

He’d barely scratched the surface.

Not even close...

A/N: As always... Thank you all for your support. I really appreciate everyone reading this. Please your reviews help others know, this isn’t bull shit... So please drop a review.