They emerge from the trees like ghosts—Malakai and his elite guard, at least thirty students with grim faces and drawn weapons. Various colored affinity marks glow in the shadows. I even see Veeni among Malakai’s people, sleeve pinned up over her missing arm.

Serena walks slightly apart from the rest, her perfect features set in cold determination, her fire serpent slithering behind her. Elements of various forms drift behind the group, some flying, some crawling, others lumbering between the trees.

It's fucking terrifying, but my hand remains steady as I grip my rapier and watch them approach.

"Thorne," Malakai calls, his single eye gleaming with malice. "And Hollow. How convenient to find you both in one place."

His shark circles back to him, bleeding elemental energy but still somehow looking eager to attack again. It hovers beside him, teeth bared in a permanent snarl. Malakai pats its head like it’s a godsdamned dog, smiling and saying something so quiet I can’t hear.

Raith steps forward, placing himself at the front of our combined forces. "Call off your people, Malakai. Last chance."

Malakai laughs, the sound hollow and cruel. "This is a competition, Hollow. Not my fault if the weak can't survive it."

"Executing defenseless students isn't a competition," I spit. "It's murder."

Serena steps forward, her orange eyes finding mine. "This isn't just about winning anymore, Thorne. It's about proving who belongs here and who doesn't." Her gaze shifts to Raith. "Empire has no place for traitors and sympathizers."

I feel Raith's cold rage ignite at her words. His hand tightens on his sword, but he maintains his control. "We're going to the quarry. Stand aside or face the consequences."

They're at least equal to our numbers now, maybe even outnumbering us slightly. But many in our group are injured or exhausted.

Malakai tilts his head, considering. His smile is a knife-edge. "On your way to the quarry, huh? Sure. It’s that way,” he hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “Just gotta go through us to get there. And then the pair of legacies you’ll face if you make it.”

"I’m tired of talking,” Serena says, face twisted with hatred. “I want to watch them burn.” She claps her hands together, fire magic flaring brightly. A moment later, she has gathered a fireball and launched it toward us.

The magic streaks through the sky, headed directly for the center of our group. But Mireen conjures an even larger sphere of water and flings it high into the air. The spells collide with a splash and sizzle, canceling one another out.

The sound and sight is breathtaking, but the stillness only lasts one heartbeat.

Two…

Three…