After the high the two boys had been riding finally began to fade, Jordan, Riven, and Joey made their way back to the hospital.
Something felt… off.
Riven and Jordan both felt it at the same time.
It was the same strange sensation they usually felt after adding stat points following a level-up—a subtle pressure beneath the skin, like power settling into place. But when they checked their general stats, there was nothing. No increase. No hidden boost. Nothing had changed—not even after the massive 10,000 XP they had just gained.
And yet…
They could feel it.
Something different lingered inside them.
"So," Joey said as they walked down the hallway, glancing between the twins, "now that you two have calmed down… what exactly did you mean by complete?"
Jordan frowned slightly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I think it was just the heat of the moment. Right now… I don't really feel that way anymore. I mean, I feel a little stronger, sure—but my stats are normal, so I doubt it meant anything."
"Yeah… sure," Joey muttered, giving Jordan a suspicious look.
Both Jordan and Riven had been acting like they were high just minutes ago—almost euphoric. Now they were calm. Too calm.
They entered the hospital wing and headed straight for their mother's room.
"Okay," Riven sighed. "Let's go."
Just as he reached for the door handle, the same male doctor stepped out. He barely spared the three boys a glance before walking past them.
Riven didn't know why—but every time he saw that man's face, his anger spiked.
They entered the room.
Their mother lay on the hospital bed, her eyes swollen and red, tears still clinging to her lashes.
"Hey, Mom," Riven said softly. "You doing okay?"
"I can't believe he's gone," she cried. "I can't believe any of this is happening. Maybe it's a sign… maybe God really does hate us Wallborn."
"Don't say that," Jordan said quickly, stepping forward and taking her hand. "You still have us. Don't you?"
She smiled faintly at him.
"Yeah… but for how long?" she asked quietly. "There's no way they let you boys come back without putting a time limit on how long you can stay."
The three exchanged glances.
Joey swallowed and turned to his adopted mother.
"Today and tomorrow," he said nervously. "Most likely… we'll have to leave before the end of tomorrow."
"Heh," she sighed, slowly sitting up and resting her back against the hospital bed. "That figures. Knowing how these things work, they'll probably make you leave even sooner."
She paused, then shook her head.
"I'm sorry. It's just… everything's happening all at once. I guess I should be grateful you're here at all."
She smiled at them, but Jordan noticed something off.
"Mom," he said carefully, "what's really going on?"
He could hear it in her voice—this wasn't just about their father.
She sniffled, placing a hand gently over her stomach.
"The doctor came in earlier," she said softly. "After a few tests… it turns out I'm pregnant."
All three of them froze.
Eyes wide.
"Oh man…" Riven thought, shaking his head as an unfortunate flashback surfaced—his parents' clothes scattered across the bedroom floor.
"Isn't this great?" Jordan said, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "We're going to have a new sibling."
"It is great," she said quietly. "I'm glad she's coming. But… a child without their father will always be incomplete."
Her voice cracked, and she began to sob.
The room fell silent.
Despite the sadness, a small spark of excitement lit their hearts.
A girl.
"Come here," she said, pulling all three boys into a hug. "We're going to get through this. And we're going to give her all the love and care in the world."
They nodded together.
"But since we don't have much time," she added gently, "I want to hear everything. What's been happening with you three at the academy?"
She tried to smile again. It didn't quite reach her eyes—but they smiled back anyway.
They told her most of it.
The academy.
The Clinton Games.
What it meant.
What it could lead to.
They left out certain things.
The system.
Their father possibly being something other than human.
Luka's vampire bloodline.
Some truths were too heavy to place on her shoulders right now.
⸻
Back at the academy, with only three of them gone, Harkel found the place painfully boring.
He was heading toward the cafeteria—it was early morning, though the clouds and toxic haze overhead made it impossible to tell without checking a phone he'd only just acquired.
He was stopped mid-step by a boy with yellow hair.
"Yo, yo."
Harkel sighed. "Aren't you part of Kyle's group now? What do you want?"
Emmett scratched the back of his head. "I mean… yeah. But honestly, that guy's got a few screws loose. Thanks to his amazing leadership, we're sitting at 30th place."
Harkel snorted. "Trust me. I know."
He thought back to Kyle. Their families had always been distant—except for Kyle's father, who wasn't just a cousin.
He was his father's twin brother.
"Kyle was the cousin I saw the most," Harkel muttered. "Still doesn't answer my question."
"Well," Emmett continued, "me and that black-haired kid—Luka, right? We're in the same beast weapon class. Haven't seen him at all. You know where he is?"
"Yeah," Harkel said. "Same dorm as me. He's just been hanging around there. Why?"
"Wait… you didn't hear the announcement?"
"…Oh, crap," Harkel groaned, smacking his palm against his forehead. "We ripped the speakers out. What did they say?"
"Long story short? Three-day limit."
"…What?"
"The vice principal said students have been abusing the 'they don't care' rule," Emmett explained. "Now if you skip three classes in a week, you'll be severely punished."
Harkel's eye twitched.
"…Thanks," he said through gritted teeth.
Then he turned and headed back toward his dorm.
He didn't get far.
Something tugged at his attention, and he stopped, glancing back at Emmett. That's when he noticed it—something was different.
Emmett wasn't wearing his usual academy uniform.
Instead, he had on a bright orange jacket, the color so bold it practically screamed against the sea of dull, identical uniforms around them. It stood out immediately—made even more noticeable by how plain the academy attire usually was. Draped over it all was a long, sleeveless cloak, hanging loosely from his shoulders.
For a moment, the boy looked less like a student… and more like a sage.
"Why are you wearing that?" Harkel asked, staring at Emmett, completely dumbfounded.
"Oh? You like it?" Emmett said, twirling around like he was showing off a dress. "Let's just say, thanks to Kyle—one of my teammates—and the academy, we found a way to do something I've always wanted."
He stopped spinning, a confident smile spreading across his face.
"And let's be honest," he continued, "we might be first-years, but our group is probably the strongest team out there right now."
The smile he wore made Harkel's expression harden. It was the kind of confidence that didn't come from arrogance—but certainty. The kind that said their teams would clash eventually.
Sooner rather than later.
"Just so you know," Harkel said coldly, turning away, "we're not sitting back either. When that happens, we'll be stronger than you."
"Good," Emmett replied casually. "Naggy wouldn't want anything less either."
He smirked, eyes following Harkel's retreating back.
"You know he still has beef with your teammate, Riven, right?"
Harkel didn't respond.
"Oh—and one more thing," he added without turning around. "That outfit doesn't matter. Not with that shitty dyed hair. You should probably fix it. Otherwise, you'll ruin the whole look."
He waved Emmett off and kept walking.
"My hair isn't bad," Emmett muttered, touching it defensively.
"No, he's not wrong. You dyed it like shit," a deep voice echoed from within his stomach.
"Oh, shut up, you fox," Emmett snapped, punching his own stomach. "I wouldn't even need Sage Mode if you'd just given me KCM Two already. None of these guys would've been a problem."
A bubbling red aura suddenly flared around his clenched fist.
Before Emmett could react, his own arm swung up and smashed into his face, sending him crashing to the ground.
He knew it wasn't him.
It was the fox.
"Why won't you help me?" Emmett yelled, frustration bleeding into his voice.
"You're trying to take the easy way out," the fox finally said. "I love our mother. I would do anything for her. But what I won't do is let you take shortcuts."
There was no anger in the voice—only firmness.
"You need to grow stronger on your own. If you keep relying on me, you'll never become as good as the original."
Emmett clenched his teeth.
He hated to admit it—but the Nine-Tailed Fox was right.
They were on good terms. They shared a mutual bond… their mother. But Emmett had taken that for granted. He'd thought that with enough pressure, he could force the fox into submission—unlock a power that would put him above everyone else in the academy.
Above everyone.
"Fine," Emmett finally said, pushing himself to his feet. He began walking away, fists clenched tight.
"I'll find my own way to get stronger."
A slow smile crept across his face.
"And I think… I just got an idea."