Mark stood under the pale morning sky, resolve hammering in his chest. No more being outsmarted. Today, he would lock the game in his favor.

He approached Light after breakfast—quiet, blonde-haired, yellow-eyed. As the others dispersed, Mark spoke steady and low. “Hey—can we talk?”

Light nodded and led him behind the training grounds. The air shimmered with telepathic silence. Mark shut down his powers to avoid detection. “Why did you enroll? And why can’t I read your mind?”

Light's expression softened. “Risa and I—we’re not here to fight. We came to protect you,” she said quietly. “And as for your telepathy—you can’t read our thoughts because we have a device. A mental blocker.” She peeled back her bracelet, revealing a sleek band embedded with faint circuitry. “It scrambles brainwaves—like a psychic firewall.”

Mark let his breath out slowly. This was bigger than protocol—this was strategy. He leaned forward. “I need a favor.”

Light nodded, curiosity flickering. “If I can help…”

Later, Mark found Ariel in the school courtyard again, this time under the old oak tree. Her face looked hopeful. “Mark—I might have to stay in court for the next two days.”

He sat beside her and reached into his jacket. “I found evidence. I’ll testify for you.”

Ariel's eyes glowed with relief. “You’d do that?”

“I will,” he said firmly.

She smiled, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, then pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.” Her gratitude shone in her eyes.

“You’ll be fine,” Mark said softly, peering into her face.

On the day of Ariel’s hearing, Mark was nowhere to be found. Anxiety gnawed at her confidence—no evidence, nothing concrete. She sat in the courtroom’s gallery, unmoored by uncertainty.

Moments before despair could anchor, Mark strode in—smartly dressed, hair trimmed, posture straight. He carried a compact case. Opening it, he revealed a volt blaster, its energy core pulsing faint violet.

“This was hidden inside the Chicago bus,” Mark told the court. “The teacher was killed, but not by Ariel—this weapon matches the electrical signature of the crime scene. Someone framed her.”

Gasps echoed through the courtroom. The prosecution’s accusations collapsed under the weight of the evidence. Ariel was cleared—innocent.

Then Mark stood, voice even. “There’s another matter I wish to address.” He glanced at the judge.

“Juniors shouldn’t be barred from head student roles. Positions like head boy or head girl shouldn’t be about age—they should be about heart.” His gaze met Ariel’s, steady.

The judge paused, then nodded slowly. “You’re right.” She signed a new ruling. Juniors would now be eligible.

Ariel leapt up and threw herself into Mark’s arms. “Thank you,” she whispered into his ear.

As the crowd outside buzzed, Mark stepped back and observed. Usually, I don’t like attention, he thought, chest tightening with purpose, but to execute my plan—I need it.

Later, in a flashback memory shimmering at the edge of his mind, Light had handed him the volt blaster earlier—his favor in return for the intel he’d requested. All the evidence had been fabricated to save Ariel. Fear and power tangled in his core as he realized: his allies were deeper than he’d ever known.

This is only the beginning.