The process wrapped up quickly. One by one, his classmates walked up to get their Bloodline Awakenings.
By the time it was over, the final bell had already rang.
Aren packed his bags slowly, but he could feel the glances and whispers that followed him as he stepped into the corridor.
"Our class really has 3 geniuses, what a surprise!"
"You're including Aren too? You know that he got lucky, right?"
"Yeah, a Snake will always be a Snake, no matter what form they take."
He didn't look back.
Outside, the late afternoon sun hung low, casting long shadows across the school grounds. Students streamed through the gates in groups, still whispering about the ceremony.
"Hey!"
A familiar voice reached his ears.
Aren turned just as Caleb jogged up beside him, backpack bouncing against his shoulder.
"You disappeared fast," Caleb said, flashing a grin that didn't quite hide his nerves. "Thought you were avoiding me."
"Why would I?" Aren asked. "Just heading home."
Caleb slowed, walking beside him now. He scratched the back of his head, gaze drifting away.
"Sorry…I just thought you might not want to hang out with me anymore," he muttered. "After all that."
Aren glanced at him.
"After what?"
Caleb forced a laugh. "You know. You basically got a Dragon! While I got a stupid Loach. Feels kind of… uneven now."
Aren stopped.
Caleb took two more steps before realizing, then turned back.
"…What?"
"You didn't get a bad Imprint," Aren said quietly.
Caleb blinked. "Huh?"
"The Loach," Aren continued. "It's not useless."
Caleb stared at him for a second, then snorted.
"Wow. Thanks. That almost sounded convincing."
Aren shrugged. "Plenty of people walk past ordinary rocks," he said lightly, "not knowing there's jade underneath."
He said it in a joking tone, but meant every word.
Aren already knew how that Loach would change in the coming years. Knew how many so-called geniuses would regret laughing at it once resources dried up.
Before Aren could say anything else, a voice cut across the street.
"Oh?"
Both of them stopped.
A girl stood a few steps ahead, phone in one hand and designer bag in the other. Her hair was neatly styled, and her makeup was flawless, probably done by professional stylists every day she went to school.
Aren recognized her instantly.
Clara Wells
The heiress of Wells Materials Group, the company that dominated the region's processed magical beast trade.
The company that his dad worked at, and the same one that put the Cross family into the ground.
"Well, this is a sight," she said. "Didn't expect to see you two together."
Caleb frowned. "Do we know you?"
She smiled wider.
"Oh, you wouldn't," she replied. "But I know him."
Her eyes turned to Aren.
"Did you hear?" she continued lightly. "Our class has three geniuses now."
She tilted her head, pretending to think. "Though I suppose standards have really dropped if luck counts as talent."
"Don't you have somewhere else to be, Clara?" Aren said.
"Relax, I just thought it was funny."
"Funny?" Caleb snapped. "What's funny about—"
"About two bottom-tier Imprints walking home together?" she interrupted lightly. "A Snake and a Loach."
She laughed softly. "It's almost poetic."
Caleb's face flushed.
He stepped forward—
And Aren caught his sleeve.
"Caleb," he said quietly before shaking his head.
A sleek black car slowed to a stop beside Clara. The door opened automatically as she stepped toward it, but she paused, glancing back over her shoulder.
"Oh—one more thing."
Her smile sharpened.
"Tell your father that Wells Materials Group is still hiring janitors," Clara added casually.
"We're always willing to give… second chances."
She waved.
"Goodbye."
The door closed. The car pulled away.
They walked in silence for a while.
The sounds of the street slowly swallowed what was left of the encounter.
Caleb kicked a loose pebble across the pavement, jaw tight.
"…I was already in a bad mood," he muttered. "That just made it worse."
Aren glanced at him. "Hungry?"
Caleb paused, then scoffed. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything," Aren said calmly.
A few steps later, he stopped beside a small street stall. Smoke curled lazily into the air as skewers sizzled over open flame, the scent of spices cutting through the heaviness lingering between them.
"Come on," Aren said. "My treat."
Caleb hesitated. "You don't have to—"
"I know."
Still, Caleb followed him.
They stood shoulder to shoulder as the vendor flipped the skewers, oil crackling softly. Aren paid without comment and handed one over.
Caleb took a bite.
His shoulders finally loosened.
"…Okay," he admitted after chewing. "This helps. You're the best, bro."
Aren nodded.
They walked on, eating in silence for a few moments.
Then, Caleb spoke again.
"So," he said, trying to sound casual. "What are you thinking of doing now?"
Aren didn't answer immediately.
"With an Imprint like yours," Caleb continued, glancing sideways, "you could probably get into a Mystic College. A real one. Not like those mixed academies."
He laughed awkwardly. "I mean, if you wanted to. Not that I'm saying you should ditch normal colleges or anything."
Aren took another bite of his skewer.
Caleb went on, "Mystics make way more than ordinary jobs. Even the mid-tier ones."
Aren swallowed.
"…I'm thinking of applying somewhere cheap," he said.
Caleb nearly choked. "What?"
Aren shrugged. "Tuition matters."
Caleb coughed once, then waved his hand.
"I know, I know," he said quickly. "I didn't mean it like that."
Aren glanced at him.
"I mean… I know your situation," Caleb added, lowering his voice. "Your dad's salary, your sister's still in school. Mystic Colleges aren't exactly friendly to people without backing."
Aren didn't deny it.
Caleb kicked a pebble off the curb as they walked. "Even if you get in, it's not just tuition. Materials, instructors, training fees… they bleed you dry."
"…Exactly," Aren said.
They walked another block in silence.
Then Caleb spoke again, more carefully this time.
"Still," he said, "with an Imprint like yours, people are going to expect you to aim high."
He took another bite of his skewer, speaking around it.
"You know," he added, "if you really wanted to, you could probably make it work. Scholarships, sponsorships, maybe even military programs."
Aren's grip on the skewer tightened just a little.
"…Maybe," he said.
But his gaze drifted ahead, already weighing options Caleb couldn't see.
Caleb glanced at him again, then smiled faintly.
"Hey. Whatever you choose, it's your call."
He hesitated, then added, more quietly—
"Though I did notice something. Captain Eric was staring bullets at you all day."
Aren paused.
"…Was he?"
Caleb nodded. "Yeah. Maybe you have a shot?"
Aren nodded once.
They reached the intersection ahead, where their paths would split.
"I'll see you on Monday," Caleb said, waving as he turned away.
"Yeah," Aren replied. "Get home safe."
As Caleb disappeared into the crowd, Aren stood there for a moment longer, the skewer cooling in his hand.
Captain Eric's attention.
Mystic Colleges.
Military programs.
He exhaled slowly.
One step at a time.
Then he turned toward home.
***
Captain Eric stepped out of the school gates and crossed the street without looking back.
A matte-black military vehicle was parked beneath the shade of a plane tree, its engine idling softly. The side door slid open as he approached.
"Captain," a soldier inside greeted. "Everything done?"
Captain Eric climbed in and shut the door behind him.
"Yeah," he said, rolling his shoulders once. "Ceremony's over."
The vehicle pulled away from the curb, blending back into traffic.
One of the squad members glanced at him through the rearview mirror.
"Still don't get it," he said. "Why go out of your way for a random public high school?"
Captain Eric leaned back in his seat, eyes half-lidded.
"Owed someone a favor," he replied casually.
"Who?"
"The Commander," Captain Eric said. "Evelyn Whitmoore's father."
A woman with short black hair whistled from the back. "Ahh, that explains it."
Captain Eric didn't respond.
After a moment, another voice spoke up. "
"So?" A pause."Worth it?"
Captain Eric closed his eyes.
He thought of the amplifier shaking.
The way the boy had stood there, calm and deliberate, like he knew exactly what he was risking.
"…Yeah," Captain Eric said.
One of the soldiers grinned. "Find anything interesting?"
Captain Eric looked out the window as the school disappeared behind them.
"I did," he said.
The grin widened. "How many?"
Captain Eric smiled faintly.
"One."