Liam couldn't break free from whoever was holding him. No matter how much he struggled, the grip didn't loosen. He could only watch as he was dragged farther away from his friends.
By the time he was thrown forward, the noise of the arcade was gone.
He stumbled and barely caught himself. When he looked up, darkness surrounded him. After a moment, his eyes adjusted just enough to make out shapes—boxes stacked along the walls. Dozens of them. All wrapped tightly in tape.
A storage room.
"Well, look who we found hanging around with high-level students."
The voice came from the shadows.
A boy stepped forward, the dim light revealing a second-year military uniform. His expression carried no surprise. Only amusement.
More footsteps followed. Several others emerged, forming a loose half-circle as they moved aside, making room for one person to walk through them.
Liam's stomach dropped.
Sevrin.
The same second-year who had spoken to Felix before. The one who had given him that warning.
Sevrin stopped a few steps away, eyes slowly dragging over Liam as if he were inspecting something disposable.
"It looks like your little friend Felix didn't understand what we meant," Sevrin said calmly. "About not associating with people who can't keep up."
He tilted his head slightly.
"A weak level two trash," he continued, "and that level one trash of a friend."
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Wasn't his name Raze?"
Liam's eyes widened at the mention of both Felix and Raze. For a moment, he wondered who the hell these people even were but when he actually looked at their uniforms, the answer was obvious.
"Y-you're second years," Liam said, gulping.
Sevrin smiled, clearly amused. The others behind him chuckled at Liam's stutter.
"You know," Sevrin said calmly, "there's a reason we don't hang around weak people like you."
He bent down and grabbed Liam by the collar, yanking him forward. The distance between them vanished, their foreheads nearly touching.
"It's because you're dead weight," Sevrin continued. "Disposable. No different from trash."
Liam's breath hitched.
"What purpose would you serve," Sevrin went on, "when humanity has to fight back against those unknown beings?"
Liam could feel sweat building along his back as the nervousness only grew stronger.
He didn't know what to do, stuck in a room all alone with a group of second years.
He turned his head toward the door and froze.
Another second year was already standing there, blocking his only escape.
SMACK.
Pain exploded across the side of his face, snapping his head back toward Sevrin.
"Pay attention when I'm talking to you," Sevrin said coldly. "Since you can't answer my question, I'll do it for you."
His voice dropped, almost a whisper.
"You weaklings exist for one reason only," he said. "Dead weight. Distractions."
Sevrin straightened, letting go of Liam's collar.
"For Felix," he said casually, as if explaining something simple. "You're going to pay the price."
One of the second years stepped forward.
Liam barely had time to brace before a fist slammed into his stomach. The air was forced from his lungs in a sharp gasp as pain folded him forward.
He dropped to one knee.
Another hit followed, this time to his ribs. Then another. And another.
Each blow came fast and controlled. No wasted movement. No shouting. Just impact.
Liam tried to lift his arms, tried to fight back, but a hand shoved his shoulder down, forcing him lower.
"Stay down," someone said.
A kick landed against his side, knocking him onto his back. His vision blurred as the ceiling spun above him, lights flickering at the edges of his sight.
Sevrin watched calmly.
"This is what happens," he said, "when you associate with people above your station."
Liam coughed, a sharp pain tearing through his chest as he tried to breathe.
Another kick landed. Then another.
He curled inward instinctively, arms shaking as he tried to protect himself. Every movement felt slower than it should've been.
"You think strength is about effort?" Sevrin continued. "About trying harder?"
He crouched down again, meeting Liam's unfocused gaze.
"It's about knowing where you belong."
A sickening snap echoed through the room as one of the second years twisted Liam's leg.
Liam screamed, pain tearing through him but the sound was cut short as Sevrin clamped a hand over his mouth.
Sevrin leaned in close, staring straight into Liam's eyes. "If you even think about biting my hand," he said calmly, "I'll make sure more parts of your body get twisted."
Tears streamed down Liam's face as he nodded frantically, panic and pain blurring together.
All he wanted right now was someone to help him. Felix. Beatrix. Even Raze.
But surrounded by second years with far more experience and remembering the most recent assembly, and what Gilbert Nightwing had said—Liam realized something that made his chest tighten even more.
Some of them might have Soul Awakenings.
And if that was true, the fight would never have been fair to begin with.
A second year leaned in behind Sevrin and whispered something into his ear. Liam couldn't make out a single word.
Sevrin nodded.
From the shadows behind him, a first-year student was shoved forward.
Her wristwatch glowed faintly in the low light.
Level 4.
Sevrin stood and turned toward her.
"You. First year," he said sharply.
She flinched but still stepped forward.
"Use your awakening," Sevrin continued, not even looking at her. "Heal him."
She nodded quickly and knelt down, placing her hands against Liam's chest. She avoided his eyes as a soft green light spread from her palms.
Warmth washed through Liam's body. The pain faded, slow but steady. His wounds closed. Even the twisted leg began to straighten, the agony retreating until it was nothing more than a dull echo.
When she finished, the girl looked up at him.
For just a moment, their eyes met.
There was only one thing in her expression.
Apology.
'So she was forced to be here, Liam realized.
Forced to watch. Forced to heal me.'
"Get up," Sevrin said over his shoulder as he motioned for the others and the girl to leave the storage room.
They filed out one by one. Sevrin stayed behind a moment longer.
"This is strike one," he said calmly. "Tomorrow. Seven a.m. The academy canteen."
He paused.
"And you will not tell anyone this happened," he continued. "If you do… I'll know."
Then he turned and walked out of the storage room.
The door closed behind him, leaving Liam alone on the floor.