"You're late."
Yohan's voice cuts through the training room the moment I step inside.
I scowl at him.
The ropes of the sparring ring quiver as Reina climbs inside, rolling her shoulders in preparation for me.
I glance around. No sign of Yoda or Mateo.
"Where are they?" I ask.
Yohan doesn't answer. Instead, he turns on his heel and strides toward the ring, ignoring me completely.
I grit my teeth. Who does he think he is? Without thinking, I yank off my boot and hurl it at his head.
I don't expect him to react so fast.
Before it can hit him, he sidesteps effortlessly, spins, and incinerates the shoe midair with a burst of fire from his palm.
I blink in shock. Well, I guess he's Section Leader for a reason.
"Excellent display of reflexes," Mateo remarks, entering the room.
Yohan's gaze flicks to him, his expression darkening.
"You're late," he mutters before stepping into the ring.
"She's sparring with me today," he tells Reina, who is already strapping on her fighting gloves.
"Be my guest," she replies, stepping back.
I climb into the ring, fists clenched, determination burning in my chest. I barely have time to process before he strikes, sweeping my leg out from under me.
I hit one knee, glaring up at him in disbelief.
"Don't ever do that again," he says coldly, venom laced in his tone.
What is his problem? I know we didn't get off on the right foot, but seriously?
He turns and walks away, leaving me fuming.
"Take over, Reina," he orders. "Don't go easy on her."
Reina smirks, stepping back into the ring, her movements fluid and sharp.
Last time we sparred, I memorized her patterns. If I'm right, I know exactly what to do.
She swings for my head, but I duck, slide beneath her, and sweep her legs out from under her. She lands with a thud. I rise, watching her carefully.
She gets up fast—too fast—and sends a kick my way. I dodge, keeping my arms close for protection. Her movements blur as she speeds up. I block, dodge—one, two, three. The strain begins to wear on me. I can't keep this up forever. If I don't land a hit soon, she's going to overpower me.
I finally see an opening and take it, landing a sharp blow beneath her chin. But just as I register the hit, she retaliates—hard.
Her strikes grow more aggressive, pushing me into a corner. I hear Mateo's voice, sharp with urgency.
"Reina! Stop now!"
She doesn't hear him. She's lost in the fight, her focus razor-sharp. She lands a brutal punch to my stomach, then my head—one, two—before driving her knee into my ribs. The pain is blinding.
I'm cornered. Trapped. Helpless.
I want to surrender. But then—
Gaia's voice fills my mind, steady and cold.
"Don't be a weakling."
A heat builds in my chest, right where my old wound is. It burns, searing hotter and hotter. I can't contain it.
And then it explodes.
A shockwave of fire erupts from me, blasting Reina out of the ring and across the gym.
The training room is wrecked. Equipment is strewn everywhere, the ring all but incinerated. Yohan and Mateo are on the floor, stunned and disheveled.
Dread grips my heart.
Reina.
I sprint to where she lies motionless. Her arms and chest are scorched, her body twisted at an unnatural angle.
I press trembling fingers to her neck.
No pulse.
A strangled sob escapes me. Did I... did I kill her?
Yohan shouts for paramedics. Mateo pulls me away, but it all feels distant.
I check again—there. A faint, fragile pulse. Relief crashes over me as the AQUA healers rush in, lifting her onto a stretcher.
Only then do I feel the pain seeping into my own body, my limbs throbbing from Reina's relentless blows.
"Arina!" Mateo grabs my face, forcing me to focus on him.
"D-did I kill her?" I whisper, my voice barely there.
He shakes his head. "Of course not." He pulls me into a tight embrace.
"You were incredible," he murmurs. "No one can summon an IGNIS force like that."
"But I almost—"
"She went too far," he cuts in. "She should have known better than to corner you when you have no combat training."
He pulls back, meeting my eyes. "Reina is strong. The AQUAs are the best at what they do. She'll be fine."
I nod slowly, willing myself to believe it.
"Now, let's get you patched up," he says, gesturing toward the black eye I can already feel swelling.
A throat clears. Yohan.
He looks between Mateo and me—our hands still clasped. His expression flickers for a moment.
Jealousy? Hurt?
But he says nothing. He only mutters, "We start training your IGNIS energy in three days."
Then he turns and walks away, not once looking back.
A strange pang settles in my chest.
What was that?