Chapter 5 : Choices
Most of the class had already grouped off. Training partners and alliances had been hastily formed, and squads picked and locked. All that remained were the misfits—the ones who didn't quite fit any puzzle.
From what Kael knew, no one survived the Death Zones alone, in a clan or not. Centralis was brutal, but real. The world outside had no hand-holding, and the Institute made sure you understood that. Despite the hierarchies, you had to stick together. Whether it was clans in alignment or teams of nobodies.
With that, Kael moved slowly across the far end of the hall, boots echoing faintly. In the back corner, three familiar figures stood apart—the only ones who hadn't yet bothered to form a squad. Sol upright and composed, Soahc crouched with that unsettling stillness, and Veyna leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
Kael stopped in front of them and cleared his throat. "Hey. We should form a squad. It's what they've been drilling into us—and it's not like we have a choice. Everyone else has already grouped up. What about it?"
The three looked up. Sol gave a short nod. Soahc tilted his head, silently analysing Kael. Veyna's eyes narrowed, sceptical.
Kael sighed. "I get it. You don't know me like the other two. But we're the only ones left. And from what I've seen, you three have the strongest Crownlights here. Unless you plan to solo the Brood Wastes..."
Sol finally spoke, quiet but firm. "You're not wrong. But even among misfits, trust takes time."
Veyna added, voice sharp, "Especially when revealing our crowns could get us killed."
Kael nodded. "True. But we either start now or die later. It seems the kids in clans brag about their crowns like it's a family crest. But us? We have to bury it because of them, like it's something shameful."
Sol's brow furrowed. "So we just lay it all out? We don't even know where you've been the last three years. You weren't in any institute—that's for sure."
Kael shifted. Veyna caught the movement.
Soahc stood, brushing off his sleeves. "Don't care where he's been. Long as he doesn't get us killed."
He looked between them. "We weirdos have to stick together anyway. No one else is going to."
Veyna arched an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to convince me?"
Soahc grinned slightly. "Not trying to; just saying the obvious."
Sol crossed his arms. "Either way, we need a squad. The window's closing."
Soahc nodded. "Then what's the delay? Are you worried someone's going to steal your secrets?"
Veyna scoffed. "No. Just not a fan of being cornered."
She turned to Kael. "You're hiding something. You joined in the last term. No clan. No record. And even for our standards, you're strange."
Her gaze shifted to Sol. "And you. You don't walk like us. You're too clean and composed, like someone who never had to claw their way up."
Sol didn't flinch. "I've had my fights, my problems. I just don't wear them on my sleeve."
Veyna's arms stayed folded. "Most clanless never make it to Sigils. But you? You carry yourself like you've already survived the final trial."
Sol met her stare.
She snorted. "You two don't feel like people. You feel like stories."
Soahc muttered, "Way to welcome your squad."
Kael stepped forward. "Look. We don't need to spill everything right now. But we're the last four, so we either form up, or we rot solo."
From behind, Soahc stretched, cracking his back. "Are we done with the therapy circle, or are we forming a squad already?"
The tension cracked. Kael smirked.
"Let's form it. Crowns come later. Some truths can wait."
Sol gave a nod. "You lead well. We will see if that holds."
Soahc tilted his head. "As long as you don't give us speeches, we'll get along."
Veyna hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. Just know I'm watching all of you. Step out of line... and you'll know it."
Kael looked around. They weren't friends not just yet. But something had taken root.
A beginning.
"Let's survive this place," he said.
Sol smirked. "Survive—and maybe break a few things."
Soahc's cracked grin returned. "Break everything."
They agreed to meet the next day in the large training hall. No more speeches. Just action.
Kael walked through the Institute's upper corridors. No more classes in the last year. The halls were quiet, save for the hum of lingering arc lights and murmurs from deeper rooms.
He passed a long hallway of open doors, each one glowing with clan banners and cutting-edge tech.
Research departments.
Spearhold's was lined with weapons, silver and steel reflecting enchantments. A tall student sparred with a construct, sparks flying.
Next, Flamebranch. Their forge lab radiated heat. Red light flickered across walls stacked with alloy samples and molten sigils.
Students laughed. Argued. Sketched glyphs onto parchment while others trained.
"Death Zone trials are next," someone said.
"Let's go make our fathers proud; it's expected of us."
Somewhere, this place stopped being about survival.
It became about proving bloodlines right.
He kept walking, jaw tight.
Ahead, a small commotion. Ashbourne students stood in a tight semicircle.
Facing them, a girl with long black and green hair. A crest stitched over her chest—Verdant Reign.
Her stance was calm. But Kael could see the tension in her fingers.
"You're in our squad," one of the Ashborne boys sneered. "But no one knows why."
Another added, "What's a poisonous girl like you doing in a real party?"
She said nothing.
Kael caught her eye as he passed. For a moment, her gaze locked onto his, sharp and composed. Like she'd heard worse a thousand times.
He didn't stop. Uncaring for her.
Just kept walking.
Up the stairwell.
Into the dorm wing.
His room was cold. Dim. He sat on the bed, back straight.
The moonlight crept in across the floor.
Kael lay down slowly.
Eyes open.
Not thinking of tomorrow.
Just listening to the silence.
The day was over.
And his game had finally begun.