Later in the morning, Zen and Madoka returned from the training grounds, both dressed in their gear tracksuits.

Madoka took a sip from her energy drink—the one she was required to have twice daily to keep her Null powers in check.

Zen’s attention was fully on his phone.

“Reading something important?” Madoka asked.

“A message from Commander Stelle,” he replied. “I’ve been summoned.”

She smirked, unimpressed. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

Zen slipped the phone into his pocket. “You could come with me. Not like you have anything better to do.”

Madoka finished her drink and tossed the can into a nearby recycling bin. “I don’t think she’ll be happy about it.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said. “It's nothing confidential.”

Madoka’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Are you scared to confront her alone?”

Zen exhaled. “You’re such a tease.”

Madoka laughed.

A short walk later, they stood in front of the Academy Director’s Office.

Zen opened the door and stepped in without waiting—he didn’t need to.

Inside, the room held a large desk, the director’s chair behind it, and two guest chairs at the front. Behind the director’s chair, a floor-to-ceiling window offered a clear view of the academy arenas.

Commander Stelle sat in the chair, her posture precise. Medium-long brown hair flowed freely beneath her hat, and her uniform bore stars and badges that marked her rank and authority.

Across from her, a young woman in her early twenties sat cross-legged, clad in an instructor tracksuit, long blonde hair visible beneath a backwards white cap.

Zen approached as if this were a casual family reunion, Madoka trailing behind.

Commander Stelle’s black eyes locked onto him. “You brought company?”

“You didn’t ask me to come alone either,” he replied.

She shook her head in resignation, letting the matter drop. “Anyway, Instructor Sayuri and I were just discussing the investigation reports of the armed raid last night.”

Zen remained standing beside the desk, arms crossed, while Madoka took a seat beside Sayuri.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said without even looking at Sayuri.

“Just because I’m usually busy doesn’t mean I’m unaware of what you’re up to from time to time,” she replied, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Zen shifted his gaze to Madoka, who offered a teasing smirk.

“I’m obliged to keep her updated,” she said.

“Not surprised,” he replied, deadpan.

Commander Stelle cleared her throat, cutting through the banter. “Back to the matter at hand.”

Everyone’s attention shifted to her as she pulled up a report on her laptop.

“According to the findings, the criminal group was a hastily assembled band of mercenaries with long-standing records. No higher authority seems to be behind them.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Madoka said.

“It is,” Commander Stelle agreed. “Their objective was to abduct Princess Lysandra and Princess Elysia and demand a substantial ransom. Miss Marcevelle was caught in the crossfire.”

Zen smirked. “In my opinion, that actually turned out for the better. Her quick thinking bought just enough time for help to arrive.”

Sayuri’s expression grew contemplative. “Lysandra, huh?”

Madoka glanced her way. “You sound like you’ve got history with her.”

Sayuri nodded once. “I do.”

Zen leaned back against the wall. “Sayuri saved Lysandra’s life once. The Solheim family was beyond grateful—they even tried to hire her as the princess’s personal trainer.”

Sayuri exhaled, almost tired of the memory. “They pushed the offer up to twelve million euros a year, plus bonuses, just to pull me away. But I can’t abandon my duty because someone waved a cheque. So, I refused under official orders.”

Madoka raised a brow. “So that’s why the Solheims chose this academy of all places.”

She added, “I always wondered if her wearing a cap like yours was a coincidence.”

Commander Stelle chuckled. “That cap became Instructor Sayuri’s ‘battle crown’ during her rise in fame. Every academy has at least one student who imitates her. She is second only to the Apex on the global leaderboard, after all.”

Sayuri’s gaze softened. “Lysandra has incredible potential. It’s a shame I can’t help her develop it.”

“I agree,” Zen said. “She really does.”

Sayuri smirked. “Then train her in my stead.”

He smirked back. “Not recommended. I’m not as gentle as you.”

Commander Stelle cleared her throat again, reclaiming the room. “I’ll send a formal report to the three students involved.”

She continued typing as she spoke. “The girls complied with our advice not to inform their families, which avoids political pressure from the Solheim and Marcevelle households. And since the surveillance network in that area went down, there’s no live footage—so nothing leaks to the public. That concludes this discussion.”

She looked up at Madoka. “The rank reassessment exams are approaching. I expect nothing less than excellence from you, Miss Fuyukawa.”

Then she turned her attention to Zen. “As for you, Captain—since you’re registered as a transfer, you’re not required to participate. You may, if you choose.”

“I’ll pass,” Zen replied.

Commander Stelle returned to her laptop. “Very well. Dismissed.”

Sayuri got up from her seat and walked toward the exit, with Madoka and Zen following after.

Once outside, she turned to them both.

“Best of luck, Madoka. And Zen…”

She paused, studying him for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. Her voice shifted—still firm, but warmer, carrying that familiar, almost maternal concern.

“There’s no point telling you this, but I’ll say it anyway. Don’t be so reckless.”

“I’ll try,” Zen replied.

Sayuri turned and walked off, waving a hand over her shoulder.

Zen and Madoka headed in the opposite direction, back toward the dorms. Madoka’s gaze drifted across the empty school field when Zen’s phone suddenly pinged.

He checked it. A message from an unknown number:

“It’s Cassie. Meet me at Arena Two at 6:30 p.m., alone.”

Zen didn’t think much and typed back a simple “Ok.”

Madoka leaned in just enough to peek at his screen.
“Oh? Another girl messaging you—and it’s Miss Solheim, no less. Aren’t you Mr. Popular?”

She gave him a teasing grin.

“Honestly, if we weren’t technically related, even I might fall for you. Luckily, now I know the absolute menace you are.”

Zen shot her a side-eye. “…Shut up.”

Madoka flicked his forehead and laughed.
“Relax, idiot. Even if I did fall for you, you’d never notice.”

The evening sky was washed in orange and faint pink, the last light of the day spilling gently across the empty arena.
Zen stepped through the entrance gate and spotted Cassie standing at the center of the field, her eyes fixed on the setting sun.

He walked over and stopped beside her, leaving a comfortable meter of space between them. For a moment, neither spoke. They simply stood there, sharing the quiet beauty of the sunset.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Cassie murmured. “I’ve never been in the arenas at this hour.”

“Most people aren’t,” Zen replied.

She glanced at him. He met her glance. A brief, calm silence stretched between them—one last moment of peace before the conversation she came for.

Cassie exhaled softly. “Right on time.”

“The least I can do is be punctual,” he said, arms crossing. “So… why are we here?”

Her gaze lowered to the ground, thoughtful and tense. “To get some proper answers this time. And to thank you, of course.”

She turned to face him. He mirrored her.

“I’ll be direct,” she said, voice steady. “I don’t know who those androids were—and I know you won’t tell me either. But they listened to you, so I assume you sent them.”

She took a small breath. “I’m genuinely grateful you saved us—especially Viara. And for returning her weapon.”

She placed a hand over her chest, letting her sincerity show.
“She's precious to me. I can't stand the thought of losing her.”

Zen’s tone stayed cool but genuine. “I was only doing my job. But… you’re welcome.”

Cassie straightened, exhaling. “Great. Now that that's out of the way...”

A clicking sound split the air, and her gear deployed in an instant. Her twin-bladed staff formed in her hands, and she pointed it at him. “According to Viara, you knocked out more than a dozen people in mere seconds last night.”

Zen tilted his head, unfazed. “And? Your point?”

Cassie’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I find it hard to believe unless I see it myself. Prove yourself.”

Zen shrugged. “You don’t have to believe it. No one’s forcing you.”

Her grip tightened. “But I want to know. No, I NEED to know. Ignoring you is no longer an option.”

Zen sighed. “I don’t have to prove anything.”

Cassie’s voice sharpened. “I’m not letting you leave until you do. Gear up. You held back in our demo match, but no one’s here right now except us. Don’t hold back this time.”

He stood still for a moment, then turned.

“Oh no, you DON’T!” Cassie yelled, charging.

She expected him to summon his weapon and parry—but what came next was beyond her anticipation.

Zen moved aside with smooth speed, as if time itself slowed down. His right hand lightly held hers, applying gentle pressure that caused her to let go of her staff. The weapon clattered to the ground.

He spun her hand behind her back, pinning it for less than a second before letting go. Three seconds. That’s all it took. Cassie hadn’t even processed what happened.

A couple of silent seconds passed as she stared at her staff on the ground. Then, dizziness hit, her vision blurred, and her legs wavered. “My... head.”

She almost fell face-first, but Zen caught her, holding her steady.

Breathing heavily, clutching her head with her free hand, she whispered, “What... was that?”

Zen helped her walk to a spectator bench at the edge of the arena field.
He guided her to sit before taking a seat beside her.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“A little dizzy,” she admitted.

“I’m sorry,” Zen said. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, still clutching her head. “Just… how much are you really holding back?”

Zen didn’t answer. He stared at the sky where the sun had set, and stars were beginning to dot the sky around the full moon.

Cassie shook her head, shaking off the last traces of nausea. Her mind finally felt steady. She took a few deep breaths. “That feels better.”

Her eyes followed Zen's gaze towards the sky.
"So much happened in the past few days," she thought.
"And even after I caused him so much trouble, he's still here, sitting beside me."

She exhaled shakily. "Your kindness is your most dangerous weapon, Zen."

Zen lingered by her side a little longer to make sure she was truly okay.

Then he stood. “Can you make it back to the dorm safely, or do you want me to escort you?”

Cassie rose after him. “I’ll be fine. I feel normal now.”

“Great. I’ll be off then,” Zen said, turning to leave.

“H-hey, wait!” she called.

He paused and turned back. “What is it?”

“Can I ask you something?” she said. “And I want an honest answer.”

“Depends on the question,” he replied.

She nodded, clearing her throat. “Are you… an apprentice of Sayuri-sensei, or are you here to become one?”

Zen was silent for a moment before answering calmly, “No. I’m not here to be her apprentice.”

“I see. So, I had the wrong idea,” Cassie murmured. “But… how do you have such a similar combat style?”

“Two different people can develop similar styles,” he replied.

She sighed. “You’re right. Maybe I’m overthinking it.”

He turned to leave again. “Goodnight, then.”

She quickly grabbed his wrist. “Wait—don’t go just yet.”

Zen turned back, eyebrow slightly raised. Cassie’s cheeks tinged pink, but she held his gaze. “I… I just want to say something,” she admitted, taking a small, steadying breath.

“I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I’m truly grateful for last night,” she continued, fidgeting with a strand of her hair. “Can we… be friends?”

“N-not because I like you or anything!” she blurted, voice quick and defensive. “I just… don’t have many friends, and… I trust you. That’s all!”

Zen regarded her quietly for a moment, then nodded. “Sure.”

Her face broke into a bright, relieved smile. “Great!”

She straightened, adopting a more daring grin. “And just so you know… I don’t know how strong you really are, but I’m going to train hard and stand side by side with you one day, not behind.”

Zen’s eyes flicked up, a hint of surprise in his gaze. “Huh… bold. I like it.”

He smirked, genuinely amused. “Then I guess I’ll have to help you catch up.”

Cassie lifted her fist, meeting his. “Looking forward to it.”

Under the vast, starry sky, bathed in soft moonlight, they collided fists—not just a gesture, but a silent promise. In that simple touch, the tension, the doubts, and the misunderstandings between them finally shattered, leaving something new in its place: trust, respect… and the spark of a real bond.