The medical tents weren't far from the arena floor, but walking there felt like crossing dimensions.
No one said anything as we stepped off the sand. Not the crowd. Not the officials. Not even the visiting clans.
They just stared.
Not with pity.
With consideration.
Like we'd become real in their eyes.
Like we mattered now.
I sat down on the edge of a crate near the outer ring, holding a pack of cold essence cloth to my ribs. The bruising was deep—Taurus hadn't broken anything, but he hadn't needed to. Pain was still pain, even if it came wrapped in respect.
Amir stood nearby, silent as he reassembled his sniper rifle with bruised fingers. Deya leaned back against a stone pillar, breathing slow, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the sky. Nel stretched her arms out, twisting her wrist, still shaking out the leftover hum from her last whip strike.
No one looked defeated.
Just quiet.
The kind of quiet that follows a storm you know you survived—but barely.
Zach walked over without ceremony. His shirt was untucked, his sleeves rolled, and a small bandage crossed the bridge of his nose. He looked like someone who'd gone through a war and still had more to do.
"You good?" he asked.
"No," Amir muttered. "But I can still aim."
Zach gave a nod that could've been respect or exhaustion. Maybe both.
"You looked like a team," he said, then turned to me. "And that weapon swap was clean, per usual."
"Wasn't enough," I said.
I lost.
He didn't argue. Didn't comfort me either.
"Doesn't have to be," he replied. "Not today."
Then he turned and walked off toward the elders' table—where the judges were still talking, but not about him anymore.
They were talking about us.
Up on the elevated platform, four figures stood out.
Elarin Vale had his arms crossed, nodding slowly as he reviewed notes on a shimmering fan-shaped essence screen. "They showed discipline under pressure," he said. "Few teams there age would've coordinated that tightly against someone like Taurus. That wasn't panic—that was formation."
Juno Glasswind stood beside him, her pale silver robes barely moving in the wind, speaking softly to one of her aides. I couldn't hear most of it, but I caught fragments—"unexpected synergy," "not reliant on single-point domains," and "potential weaponization."
Suri, the Cancer Zodiac, leaned over the edge of the railing with her chin in her hands. "They're fun," she said, kicking her legs like a bored teenager. "Can we spar them again next month?"
And standing beside them—
Adeya, Zach's mother.
She hadn't moved since we walked off the battlefield.
Her eyes hadn't left us.
She wasn't smiling.
But she looked…
Pleased.
Almost like we had passed a test, too.
The elder who had nominated Makai—Jiran Break—stepped beside her, arms folded, his jaw tight. Not from disappointment. Just thought.
"They remind me of the old era," he said quietly. "Before everything became about politics and appearances."
Adeya didn't look at him. "They're still learning," she said. "But they'll survive what's coming."
Jiran gave a quiet grunt. "So will Zach."
"Barely," she replied.
But this time, she smiled.
Off to the side, farther away from the judges' platform, Muhammad stood with both arms draped over the shoulders of two visiting clan leaders. One looked uncomfortable. The other looked like he was trying not to pass out under the weight.
Muhammad pointed a casual hand in our direction.
"That team? Yeah. Watch them," he said. "Not 'cause they're strong now. But because they don't fold."
One of the leaders scoffed. "You're hyping kids."
Muhammad just grinned. "Maybe. Or maybe you've just forgotten what prodigies look like before they grow teeth."
I didn't hear that part.
But I felt it.
That shift.
That pull.
Whatever came next in this ceremony, we wouldn't be background pieces anymore.
They saw us now.
And they wouldn't forget.
But we weren't done either.
Not even close.
Because this wasn't just about us.
This was about Zach.
The Breaker heir. The clan successor.
The fights weren't over.
There were still inter-clan sparring matches lined up. Rival clans. Visiting guests. Old allies with something to prove.
They weren't just testing us.
They were testing him.
And now?
We had to make sure they didn't forget why Zach was chosen.