The hall held its breath as Jayden straightened, the last glimmers of light still threading through his skin. Then it began.
Horns burst through his dark hair, curling back with a cruel elegance. Shadows rippled outward, condensing into a ragged cloak that clung to his shoulders — black and crimson, the colors of Scorpio. Across his chest, a crest flared to life: a jagged scorpion sigil burning with venomous fire. Jayden's lips parted in a grin as he spread his arms wide, basking in the gasps that erupted around him.
"Scorpio," someone whispered, half in awe, half in dread.
Cynthia's turn came next. She stepped forward with steady poise, drank, and braced herself as the Chip ignited inside her. A low rumble filled the hall as spectral waves rose from the ground beneath her feet. Her skin glimmered with the shimmer of the sea, and a shell-like pattern rippled briefly across her arms before fading into her flesh. Behind her, the aura of massive pincers unfurled and dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the blazing crest of Cancer glowing across her chest. She exhaled slowly, her expression unreadable, but her eyes sharper than before.
Then Kaitlyn. She accepted the glass with reverence, her hands steady. The moment the water touched her lips, flames erupted — not wild, but controlled, spiraling upward like a beacon. Crimson fire cloaked her in its brilliance, shaping itself into the sigil of Aries across her chest. Her robes flickered with embers, her gaze alight with determination. She lowered her hands as though she had expected nothing less.
Jordan hesitated before stepping forward. The glass trembled faintly in his hands, but he drank all the same. The fire within him was not contained — it surged, a golden inferno that burned brighter than the others. A radiant mane of light flared briefly behind his head before dissolving, and upon his chest roared the crest of Leo, glowing fierce and proud. His breath caught, his chest tightening as though the flames themselves had chosen him.
De'Oliver stumbled forward last, his nerves plain for all to see. "Guess it's my turn," he muttered, forcing a grin. He raised the glass, swallowed, and nearly doubled over as the Chip seared through him.
Then the light struck. It was not fire, nor wave, but a piercing radiance that wrapped him in celestial arcs of silver and gold. The image of a bow shimmered above his head before vanishing into sparks. When the glow faded, the crest of Sagittarius burned bright across his chest.
The hall stirred in surprise. A few upperclassmen nodded approvingly; others smirked knowingly.
"Sagittarius," a voice whispered. "The archer's mark."
De'Oliver straightened, still panting, but his grin widened. "Ha… looks like I didn't trip this time."
The hall was alive now — the smell of ozone, the lingering glow of sigils, the hushed tension as the first Bindings revealed themselves.
And above it all, the constellations shimmered as though watching with approval.