Cyrus couldn't breathe.
His vision kept going in and out, the hallway spinning around him in nauseating circles. The pills from his bottle had scattered everywhere when he dropped it, little white circles rolling away across the dark marble floor. He tried to reach for the closest one, but his hand wouldn't stop shaking.
The tightness in his chest was getting worse. His heart felt like it was trying to punch its way out of his ribcage.
He was going to die here. On the floor of an empty hallway while everyone else was inside celebrating their futures. How pathetic was that?
His fingers finally closed around one of the pills, but it slipped right through, bouncing away into the shadows under a decorative table.
"Damn it," he gasped, the word barely audible.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Quick, hurried footsteps getting closer. Cyrus tried to look up, but his vision was too blurry to make out who it was. Everything was just shapes and colors bleeding together. Please don't be an instructor, he thought. Please don't let them see me like this.
"Cyrus!"
That voice. He knew that voice.
Claudia.
She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands immediately going to his face. "Oh my god, Cyrus, what's happening? Are you okay?"
He tried to answer, but he couldn't get enough air to form words.
"Your medicine," she said, her voice sharp with panic. Her green eyes darted around, spotting the empty bottle and the scattered pills. "Shit, hold on, just hold on."
She moved fast, gathering up the pills from the floor with quick, efficient movements. She found three of them and brought them back. Her hands were steady as she pressed the pills to his lips.
"Open up," she ordered.
Cyrus opened his mouth and she placed the pills on his tongue. Then she was pulling a water bottle from her bag and carefully helping him drink. The water was cold, and some of it spilled down his chin, but he managed to swallow the medicine.
"There you go," Claudia said softly, one hand on his back. "Just breathe. It's going to be okay. The medicine will kick in soon."
Her face was so close to his. He could see the worry in her eyes, the way her eyebrows drew together. She looked scared for him. Actually scared.
Maybe she did care about him after all. Maybe her not answering his confession yet didn't mean anything bad. Maybe after everything that happened today, she'd still—
"Just breathe," she repeated, rubbing small circles on his back. "You're going to be fine."
The medicine started working after what felt like forever. The crushing pressure in his chest eased up bit by bit. His vision cleared. His breathing evened out into something that didn't feel like drowning. Cyrus slumped back against the wall, exhausted. His whole body felt like dead weight.
"Better?" Claudia asked, still kneeling beside him.
He nodded, not trusting his voice yet.
She sat back on her heels and let out a long breath, relief obvious on her face. For a moment they just stayed like that, sitting on the hallway floor together while the ceremony continued inside the Grand Hall without them.
Then Claudia's expression changed. The relief faded into something else. Something harder to read.
"Cyrus," she said slowly, and there was something in her tone that made his stomach drop. "I've been thinking about your confession."
No. No, not now. Not right after he almost died. Not after she just saved his life.
"I finally have an answer for you."
Cyrus's hands clenched into fists on his lap. He could feel his heart starting to pound again, but for a completely different reason this time.
"Claudia, this really isn't a good time—"
"We can't be together."
The words hit him like a physical blow. He stared at her, waiting for her to laugh. Waiting for her to say she was joking.
But Claudia just looked back at him with those beautiful green eyes, and her expression was completely serious.
"What?" The word came out flat.
"I'm sorry," she said, and she actually did sound sorry. "But my family would never allow a Classless hero to become their son-in-law. You have to understand, it's not personal. It's just—"
"Not personal," Cyrus repeated, his voice emotionless.
"My father has very specific expectations for who I'll end up with. And after what happened in there..." She gestured toward the Grand Hall. "You have to see how this looks. You're Classless. That means you can't be a hero. You can't fight in the Realm of All Races. You can't evolve or get stronger. You're just... stuck."
Cyrus said nothing. He just stared at her, watching her explain away his entire worth as a human being like she was discussing the weather.
"I know this is hard to hear right after everything, but I thought you deserved to know the truth right away instead of me stringing you along," Claudia continued. She reached out like she was going to touch his hand but thought better of it. "And to prove I'm not heartless about this, I can recommend you to the best special facility for disabled heroes we have in the city. They'll take great care of you there. My family has connections with the director, so I can make sure you get accepted even without—"
"A special facility for disabled heroes," Cyrus interrupted quietly.
"It's really nice!" Claudia said quickly, mistaking his tone for interest. "They have amazing medical staff trained specifically for cases like yours. Heroes who got injured, or people who awakened weak classes and can't handle the requirements. You'd be comfortable there, at least. Safe."
Safe. Comfortable. Disabled.
She was already planning out his entire pathetic future for him. Tucking him away somewhere out of sight where she wouldn't have to think about him anymore.
Something cold and sharp crystallized in Cyrus's chest.
He started laughing.
It wasn't a happy laugh. It was bitter and harsh, coming from somewhere deep and dark inside him. Claudia actually flinched back, her eyes going wide.
"Cyrus?"
"A disabled heroes facility," he said through the laughter, shaking his head. "That's perfect. Really. Just perfect."
"I'm trying to help you," Claudia said, and now she was starting to sound defensive. "I know you're upset about being rejected, but I'm offering you a real solution here. Most people in your situation would be grateful—"
"Grateful," Cyrus repeated. The laughter died as quickly as it had started. He looked at her—really looked at her—and felt absolutely nothing.
No heartbreak. No devastation. No crushed dreams.
Just... nothing.
Because the truth was, he'd never actually loved Claudia. Not even a little bit.
She was beautiful, sure. Smart enough. She came from money and had connections that could have been useful. That's why he'd spent months playing the part of the lovestruck fool, making her laugh and pretending to care about whatever boring stories she told about her family's social events.
It had all been an act. A calculated investment.
Her family had connections to the best doctors and the most expensive treatments. If he'd managed to actually become her boyfriend, he would have had access to resources that could have cured his disease. That's all she'd ever been to him. A means to an end.
And now that he was Classless and worthless, she was cutting him loose. Which made perfect sense, really. In her position, he would have done the exact same thing.
"I see," Cyrus said, his voice calm now. All emotion was locked away behind a neutral expression.
Claudia blinked, surprised by the shift. "You... you see?"
"Yeah." Cyrus pushed himself to his feet slowly, his legs shaky but functional. "I understand. Your family's expectations and all that. Makes sense."
"Oh." She stood up too, smoothing down her skirt. "I'm glad you're being reasonable about this. A lot of guys would have made a scene."
"No point in making a scene," Cyrus said. He bent down and picked up his empty medicine bottle, turning it over in his hands. Three pills gone. The ones Claudia had just given him. That was it. That was all he had left. "Is there anything else you wanted to say?"
"Just..." Claudia hesitated, then gave him a small, sad smile. "I hope you'll be okay. Really. You're a good person, Cyrus. You deserve to be happy."
A good person. Right.
"Thanks," he said flatly. "You should probably get back to the ceremony. Don't want people wondering where you went."
"What about you?"
"I'll be fine. Just need a minute."
Claudia looked like she wanted to say something else, but then she just nodded. "Okay. Take care of yourself."
She turned and walked back toward the Grand Hall. She didn't look back once.
Cyrus watched her go until she disappeared around the corner. Then he looked down at the empty medicine bottle in his hand.
Three pills left and he'd just used all of them. No class meant no income. No income meant no medicine. No medicine meant he'd be dead within the week when the next episode hit.
His mother's face flashed through his mind. The way she'd looked at the end, her skin gray and her breathing shallow. The disease had eaten her alive while he watched helplessly.
Now it was his turn.
All his plans. All his careful scheming and pretending to be someone he wasn't. All of it completely worthless now.
Cyrus's hand tightened around the medicine bottle until the plastic started to crack.
Fine. If he was going to die anyway, he might as well go out swinging.