In an octagonal chamber carved from solid, windowless anthracite, four figures sat around a circular table. There was no decor. The only illumination came from the sterile, cold light of an Ether lamp. This was the Executive Council.

  ?A three-dimensional hologram looped in the center of the table. It showed the fraction of a second when Marcus pulled the trigger in the simulation arena.

  ?"Marcus Eterno," an elderly man in white robes broke the silence. "Looking past the crude execution... his situational assessment was excellent."

  ?"It wasn't just excellent; it was calculated lunacy," a woman across from him countered. She enlarged the hologram, pausing it on the recoil. "He calculated the 'Toll' of the Fractured crystal. He knew his musculoskeletal structure couldn't withstand the feedback, so he intentionally used his own lungs and ribcage as a shock absorber to keep the projectile's trajectory from deviating."

  ?"A slum rat willing to shatter his own bones for an objective." A third man tapped a rhythm on the wood. "Fractured crystals don't yield stable results. Letting an anomaly of this magnitude walk the campus is a security liability."

  ?The fourth man, seated at the head of the table, leaned back. His eyes tracked the energy expenditure metrics floating on the screen. "This isn't the first Fracture in history. But it is the first one in a century that didn't instantly detonate and kill its user on the first discharge. He might be the 'variable' we’ve been looking for."

  ?"Shall we assign a Pillar of the Council to monitor him?" the woman asked.

  ?"Unnecessary. Corneleus won't let us cross into his territory." The head of the table swiped Marcus’s hologram away. "Issue him a Hazard-class License. Brand him. Let everyone know he’s a walking containment breach. Make him feel the weight of a thousand eyes. We’ll see if the pressure forces this variable to stabilize, or if it grinds him into dust."

  ?The projection shifted, bringing up the profiles of other students. The old man nodded in approval.

  ?"Setting aside that blemish, we have fascinating purebloods this year."

  ?An image of Alissa Valentine materialized. Her posture as she planted her umbrella to manifest her Domain was flawless. The Ether leakage rate was practically zero.

  ?"Valentine. Perfect and predictable," the head of the table said dryly. "If she achieves absolute control over the 'Winter Heart,' the Council gains a new strategic asset."

  ?"A perfect dichotomy," the woman murmured. "Absolute light bred to rule, and absolute chaos dragged out of the garbage. And today, they share a classroom. It makes for a suffocating ecosystem."

  ?"That is the entire point of the experiment," the head of the table offered a thin smile. "Let us see if the light incinerates the crack, or if the chaos swallows the light."

  ?Harsh morning sunlight stabbed through the infirmary window, hitting my eyelids.

  ?I woke up. The first thing my brain processed wasn't the light, but the pain. My right arm felt like the veins had been flushed with ground glass. It was the receipt for the 'Toll'—the cost of pushing the Fractured crystal past my physical limits yesterday.

  ?I looked around. Noah and Evie’s beds were empty. Vanessa was gone. There was only a small sticky note and a brown envelope resting on the bedside table.

  ?'Your gun is totaled. I salvaged the scrap and the crystal; they’re in the envelope. I went to the registry to process our licenses. Get cleaned up, we have to collect our uniforms today. — Vanessa'

  ?Using my functioning left hand, I tore the envelope open. The moment my fingertips brushed the jagged surface of the Fractured crystal, it pulsed with a faint violet light, syncing with my heartbeat like a stray dog recognizing its owner's scent.

  ?I let out a slow breath and looked at the adjacent bed. Ethan was sprawled out, mouth wide open, snoring with the acoustic power of a failing diesel engine.

  ?And Roy... I scanned the room for the idiot. I found him curled into a tight figure-eight on the cold wooden floor, tangled in a blanket, looking like a discarded corpse.

  ?"Did the concussions make him forget how beds work?" I rubbed my temples.

  ?"You're awake. Good."

  ?The clinical voice came from the doorway. Professor Morgana, the academy’s chief medical officer, walked in holding a clipboard. She didn't even blink at Ethan's snoring. "Your oversized friend's nervous system is repairing itself. The pain will wake him up shortly."

  ?She stopped at the foot of my bed. Her eyes locked onto mine through her glasses, scanning me like a piece of defective machinery. "As for you, Eterno. You have a thirty percent nerve laceration in your right arm. The Toll of a Fractured crystal is a random biological siphon. If you force an activation in your current state, and the crystal randomly targets that same arm again... I won't bother treating it. I'll amputate it before the necrosis reaches your heart. Am I clear?"

  ?It wasn't a threat. It was a medical fact. I swallowed the dryness in my throat. "Understood. I'll avoid using it."

  ?"See that you do. And clean up the garbage on the floor," she pointed her pen at Roy. "Before I have the janitor sweep him into the incinerator."

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  ?After Morgana left, I gritted my teeth and sat up. I reached for the 'License' Vanessa had left behind. It was a thick, pearl-finish card.

  ?[ Name: Marcus Eterno ]

  [ Faculty: General - Year 1 ]

  [ Class: HAZARD ]

  ?It wasn't white or gold like the ones in the orientation manual. It was pitch black, slashed with a dark purple stripe bordered in warning red. It looked less like a student ID and more like a radioactive biohazard tag.

  ?I sighed, clipping it to my shirt pocket, and turned to the immediate problem. I kicked Ethan’s leg hard.

  ?"Get up. Food. Uniforms."

  ?"RAAAAH! DIE, SUNNIER!"

  ?Ethan’s eyes snapped open. His massive frame sprang from the mattress, his right fist tearing through the air directly at my face.

  ?I tilted my head purely on survival instinct. The displaced air kissed the tip of my nose.

  ?"You lunatic! Are you hallucinating?!" I barked.

  ?Ethan blinked rapidly, his chest heaving. He looked at his fist, then at my face. "My bad... I was dreaming I was dueling Elias Sunnier. I was right about to cave his arrogant face in."

  ?"Save the stamina for the actual arena. Don't murder your team before breakfast."

  ?"Mmm... stop yelling..." a groggy voice groaned from the floorboards. Roy pushed himself up into a sitting position. His hair was a chaotic nest pointing in every compass direction. He blinked with heavy, half-lidded eyes. "The bed was shaking last night. Had to sleep on the floor... I'm starving."

  ?"You rolled off the bed, you idiot," I shook my head.

  ?Ethan picked up his own license from the table. It was a pristine white card with a grey stripe. "Mine's white. Looks basic... but Marcus, yours is ugly. Purple and red? It looks like a disease warning."

  ?"That's the point," I adjusted the clip on my chest. "The Council wants everyone to know they shouldn't stand too close to me."

  ?Roy paused mid-stretch. He patted his pockets, then lifted his pillow. "Wait... where's mine?"

  ?I stared at him. "You were a corpse on the floor when Vanessa went to get them. You don't have one. Officially, you're an undocumented trespasser right now."

  ?Roy stared into space for three seconds. He shrugged. "Whatever. You can't eat a plastic card. Let's hit the cafeteria before my stomach eats my spine."

  ?Half an hour later, we walked through the marble corridors of the Central Administration Hall to collect our uniforms.

  ?Dozens of eyes from other first-years tracked us. Specifically, they tracked the purple stripe on my chest. The stares were a mix of morbid curiosity and blatant paranoia.

  ?Near the front of the distribution line, Alissa Valentine had just received her fitted black-and-gold uniform. She turned. Her amethyst eyes met ours. Her gaze shifted to Ethan's white card, then locked onto my purple one.

  ?Alissa didn't sneer like a child. She simply took a half-step backward, a purely instinctual physical reaction. Her eyes were blank and freezing, the kind of look one gives a rat carrying the plague.

  ?"An appropriate warning label," she said softly. She turned and walked away without a second glance.

  ?"What is her problem?" Ethan scowled. "Was that an insult or a compliment?"

  ?I didn't answer. I stepped up to the counter and handed the purple card to the female clerk. She took it by the very edge, her fingers tense, and quickly shoved a dark grey uniform package across the counter. Ethan followed, easily exchanging his white card for his gear.

  ?Then came Roy.

  ?Roy leaned comfortably against the counter. "Size Large, please, sis."

  ?The clerk looked him up and down. "License, please."

  ?"Oh, I don't have one yet," Roy said with a deadpan expression.

  ?Ethan and I slapped our hands over our faces.

  ?"If you don't have a license, I cannot issue a uniform," the clerk's voice hardened. "Step aside."

  ?"Wait, sis, think about the logic here..." Roy tapped the counter. "If I don't have a uniform to wear around the academy, the guards at the registry building won't believe I'm a student. So they won't give me my license. Therefore, you have to give me the uniform first, so I can use it as proof to get the card. It's basic logistics."

  ?Ethan and I stared. What kind of catastrophic logic is that?

  ?The clerk took a deep breath. A vein throbbed visibly at her temple. She didn't scream. She simply lowered her voice to a glacial, furious whisper.

  ?"Security... we have a vagrant trespassing at counter three."

  ?"Whoa! No need for guards, sis! I'm leaving!" Roy threw his hands up in surrender and spun around, walking back to us with a completely calm face. "The bureaucracy here is terrible, right?"

  ?"You have a defective brain. Let's go eat before I leave you here." I shoved him toward the cafeteria.

  ?The Aurelius cafeteria wasn't built like a grand ballroom, but it was massive, lined with long, regimented oak tables.

  ?Vanessa was already waiting at our designated spot. She wore the standard first-year uniform, perfectly tailored. The overhead lights glinted off her glasses.

  ?"Slow," she said. It was her only greeting as we set our trays down.

  ?Ethan rapidly shoveled steak into his mouth, desperately replacing the calories burned while acting as a punching bag for an iron golem. Roy gnawed on a piece of hard crust, looking hollow.

  ?The peace lasted exactly five minutes. Then, the ambient temperature around the table plummeted.

  ?I looked up. A girl was standing directly behind Roy. The dark, bruised bags under her eyes signaled absolute exhaustion. Her hands were clenched so tight her nails were biting into her own skin.

  ?Jinny Morgan. Roy’s teammate.

  ?Roy turned around slowly. "Oh, hey Jinny... hungry again? Didn't those three steaks fill you up last night?"

  ?SLAM.

  ?Jinny didn't yell. She just drove a white License card into the table right in front of Roy. The impact rattled the silverware. Her voice was raspy and terrifyingly quiet.

  ?"If you get expelled because you didn't report to the registry, that's your funeral. But the fact that I had to stand at attention at six in the morning while a Professor screamed at me because my team leader was sleeping on the floor... what does that mean, Foster?"

  ?Roy stared at the card. He swallowed his dry bread. "Haha... thanks for grabbing this for me, Jinny. I was... tied up with some business."

  ?"Stand. Up." Jinny articulated every syllable. "Go. Get. Your. Uniform. Now. Or I will use your large intestine as a necktie."

  ?Roy didn't hesitate. He launched himself out of the chair, grabbed the card, and sprinted toward the administration hall, chewing on his bread as he ran. Jinny took a ragged breath of pure hatred and marched aggressively after him.

  ?I watched the two tornadoes leave the hall, then picked up my spoon.

  ?"Speaking of which..." I put the spoon down, focusing on Vanessa. "How exactly does this color-coding system work?"

  ?Ethan nodded, pointing a piece of meat at me. "Yeah. Me and Roy got white. Marcus got the biohazard purple. Is it ranked by power output? Or combat class?"

  ?Vanessa paused. She placed her fork perfectly on the edge of her plate. She didn't answer immediately. Her eyes, magnified behind her lenses, dropped to the purple stripe on my chest. The casual atmosphere vanished, replaced by the clinical tension of an analyst evaluating a fatal flaw.

  ?She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. The glare caught the light, obscuring her eyes entirely.

  ?"Are you entirely sure you want the answer to that, Marcus?" Vanessa's voice was a low hum. "Because that purple... isn't a badge of honor."