In the days that followed the attack, a heavy gloom settled over the Institute like a shroud of mourning silk.
Despite their efforts to rebuild, to repair the damage both to their surroundings and their shaken sense of security, the students could not shake the shadow that now clung to them. For the first time, many were forced to reckon with the truth – they were not invincible. The safety net of youth had been torn from beneath them.
Of the original class of 146 Students, only 111 remained alive. Among those, 12 had suffered injuries so grave that their path as a Beast-Warrior had been permanently severed. Seventeen more were left with wounds that would require such extensive rehabilitation that they'd be forced to repeat their first year entirely. That left only 82 students – 82 from the once-proud 146.
These were the lowest retention numbers recorded in the history of any branch of the Institute.
And yet, there was a sliver of fortune to be found: all eight Seeded Students had survived. Chidi had endured the worst injuries among them, but his resilience as a Beast-Warrior ensured that he would recover within a short amount of time – several weeks of bed rest, and he'd be back on his feet.
Still, there was another silver lining to be taken away from all of this.
Those who could still move, those whose limbs weren't bound in splints or bandages, threw themselves into their cultivation and physical conditioning with a new, desperate fervour. Gone was the training for show, the petty competitions between classmates.
The attack had stripped away their illusions. They had glimpsed the edge of death – and realised the real world did not care for potential or promises.
They finally understood. Strength was not a luxury. It was survival.
For better or worse, every one of the 82 remaining students had begun to walk the path of a true warrior.
Among the more noticeable changes was the growing camaraderie during morning endurance sessions.
What had once been an unspoken tradition between Jabari and August was now shared with Danso and Azurian, who had grown closer after fighting together during the chaos. Though each had a distinct path and personalised regimen, they trained in synchrony, bound by the silent vow to never be caught unprepared again.
But this morning felt… different.
As Jabari dropped to the grass, chest heaving from his final rep, he turned to the newcomers with a raised brow.
"What's wrong with you two?" he asked, wiping the sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt.
It was true that the student body had grown more sombre, but the Seeded Students had, until now, carried the mood with a quiet strength. Especially Danso, who always had something witty or ridiculous to say. Yet today, both he and Azurian had barely uttered a word.
Jabari's tone wasn't harsh, just puzzled.
The morning sun filtered through the treetops, casting broken shadows across the courtyard, but the silence from his companions felt heavier than usual.
Something was off.
"Huh? What did you say?" Danso blinked, his voice distant, clearly dragged out of a spiral of heavy thoughts.
"I asked what's wrong," Jabari repeated, tossing a towel over his shoulder. "You two don't seem like yourselves."
Danso and Azurian exchanged a quick glance – brief, but telling. Then, as if rehearsed, they answered in unison, "It's nothing."
Jabari raised an eyebrow. Neither of them had the face for lying. It was about as convincing as a duck pretending to be a lion.
"I'm guessing it has something to do with your interviews later today?" Jabari asked casually, his tone light but laced with understanding. "It's alright. August already told me – you figured out that I'm not a Beast-Warrior yet…
And that the old man is."
Both boys snapped their heads toward August, who remained statue-still in his horse stance, utterly unbothered by the conversation unravelling beside him. He neither acknowledged them nor shifted his focus.
Danso lowered his gaze, uncertainty flashing across his face. But then he clenched his fists and looked up, his eyes meeting Jabari's with renewed resolve.
"We don't know how or why it happened," he said firmly, "but you and your Master saved our lives that night."
"We won't repay that grace with dishonour," Azurian added, his voice steady and sincere, his conviction no less than Danso's.
They hadn't outright said it, but the message was unmistakable – they were willing to lie for him. For Jabari. To the Institute, to the Elders, even to their own mentors.
A quiet warmth rose in Jabari's chest, blooming like a soft flame. They were ready to jeopardise their own integrity just to protect him and Aziz.
"I appreciate the gesture," Jabari said with a faint smile, touched by their loyalty. "But you don't need to lie for us. We kept quiet because Grand Elder Nala asked us to, at least until she returned from the HQ. It's not exactly a secret, though."
He took a breath before continuing, his tone calm but honest. "When I went through the Awakening process, something went wrong.
For some reason, the beast blood seemed to reject me. Instead, choosing to attack me from the inside. I was facing death, and in the end, my Master had to surgically remove the blood just to keep me alive.
Unfortunately, the blood wasn't ordinary. It fought back. Attacked him from the inside. He had no choice but to refine it using a certain method to stop it from destroying him. That method inadvertently turned him into a Beast-Warrior."
Danso and Azurian listened in silence. It was clear they had questions – dozens of them – but some truths were better left untouched. And this was one of those lines that Jabari and Aziz weren't willing to cross.
"Tell the truth," Jabari said simply, his back already turning as he walked away, "and don't worry about us."
The two boys watched him go, his figure growing smaller with each step.
"Not only did they save our lives," Danso muttered, voice low with conflicted emotion, "but Mr Aziz even showed us a path I doubt even the higher-ups of our tribes have knowledge of.
And Jabari, not only did he successfully go out of his way to save our lives during the invasion, he's even spent these last few days telling us everything we needed to know to become Weapon-Wielders."
His shoulders sagged as the weight of the coming interview pressed against his chest. "I can't bring myself to tell the full truth today, knowing the Supreme Elder and the others might expel both of them."
Azurian remained silent, but the storm in his eyes mirrored Danso's turmoil perfectly.
August stood then, his workout complete, his expression unreadable as he spoke.
"My aunt went to HQ to tell them everything. The final decision won't hinge on your testimony," he said plainly. "And even if Jabari's expelled from the Institute, do you really think his future will be any less impressive than ours? With a Master like that and talent like his?"
Without waiting for a reply, August turned and headed into his residence, the door closing behind him with a soft but final thud.
The two boys stood in silence, each turning August's words over in their minds. The longer they pondered, the more sense it made.
Jabari had defied every expectation. In six months, he'd gone from a nameless boy from the slums to one of the strongest students in the entire year – without even being a Beast-Warrior.
And even if the Institute decided to take action against him, it wasn't as though Aziz would simply allow it. After witnessing the man's power firsthand, neither Danso nor Azurian believed that anyone in the Institute – at least from any of the branches – could defeat him.
Aziz had left an impression deeper than awe. It was reverence. Fear. Respect.
Despite being from prestigious tribes with their own powerful guardians, neither of them had ever met anyone who radiated power the way Aziz did. It wasn't just strength. It was mastery. Presence.
The decision was made.
They would speak the truth. But somehow, someday, they would find a way to repay the two who had not only saved their lives, but opened the door to a future neither of them had known existed.
***
After showering and changing into fresh robes, Jabari stepped out into the cool morning air and began the familiar walk across campus toward his Master's residence.
As he passed the training field, his eyes were drawn to the students grinding away amidst the lingering debris and cracked stone. Even though the field was still scarred from the chaos of the beast tide, the ordinary students trained with a renewed fervour, sweat soaking their uniforms, their movements sharp with purpose.
'I guess some good came out of that night after all,' Jabari mused absentmindedly before he was distracted by the haunting memory of Gichinga's final moments.
A helpless sigh slipped from his lips – too weary to be bitter, too hollow to be angry.
His thoughts were broken by the hushed tones of conversation drifting from a cluster of students not far from the path. At first, he wasn't paying attention – until he caught the sound of his own name.
"Isn't that Jabari?"
"I heard he held his own against a Magical Beast by himself. Apparently, he even fought both Danso and Azurian on his own, too!"
"Yeah, I heard that his strengths surpassed both of theirs. And they became Beast-Warriors before him. Can you imagine that? Considering where he came from?"
"He might be the strongest student in our year!"
"I dunno. He's strong, sure, but we don't really know how powerful August is. And don't forget Jamal."
"Oh yeah! Jamal! I heard he and Chantelle protected a dozen of us during the attack. And he beat a Magical Beast singlehandedly!"
"Speaking of protecting us 'ordinary students,' I heard Jabari killed Gichinga that night…"
"Yeah, but it was because Gichinga betrayed us, right? He joined the side of the beasts…"
"Nah, I heard it was like what happened with Danso and Azurian. He was being controlled. Jabari had to kill him to save August."
"So what are you saying? That the lives of the Seeded Students are more important than ours?!"
That was when Jabari stopped listening.
His steps didn't falter, but the slight tightening of his jaw was the only clue to the storm behind his impassive expression. He continued down the path without so much as a glance back, his face unreadable, like a mask carved from cold stone.
"You look absolutely terrible."
The voice – dry, amused, and blunt as ever – snapped him from his thoughts.
Jabari glanced up and found Aziz lounging casually outside his home, arms folded as he leaned against the wall like he had all the time in the world.
"I take it you're still being haunted by the same ghosts?" Aziz asked, his tone far too light for the question he'd just dropped.
"Every night since the incident," Jabari replied, yawning as he rubbed the dark circles starting to form under his eyes. His voice was flat, as though he'd grown used to the weight of sleeplessness.
It wasn't exhaustion that hollowed him out – it was acceptance. The kind born not from peace but from enduring what could not be undone.
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