The first light of dawn crept through the high windows of the abandoned clocktower—their new hideout. Dust swirled in the pale beams, settling over scattered blueprints, scorch marks, and the faint metallic tang of ozone.
Kenneth sat cross-legged in the center of the room, his bare torso glistening with sweat. Before him, suspended in a crackling sphere of blue energy, floated the remnants of the thunder boar's fang. Tiny bolts arced between his fingertips and the relic, his veins flickering with borrowed lightning.
Across from him, Kael watched, fingers flying over a holographic display.
"Pulse synchronization at 78%," he muttered. "But your cells are rejecting the charge. Again."
Kenneth gritted his teeth. "Then we adjust."
A surge of energy ripped through him—wild, untamed. The sphere exploded outward, shattering a stained-glass window. Glass rained down as Zarek, leaning against the far wall, lazily deflected a shard with a spark from his palm.
"Dramatic," he drawled. "But you're holding back."
Kenneth shot him a glare. "I'm not you. This isn't natural for me."
"Neither is fire. Or fur. Or fangs." Zarek pushed off the wall, rolling his shoulders. "But you made those work."
---
THE ARMOR
Kael's latest creation lay on the workbench—a sleek, segmented chestplate forged from dragonsteel alloy and lined with thunder boar hide.
"Nanofiber weave disperses heat," Kael explained, tapping the wrist module. "And this channels excess electricity—"
"—into the ground, not my organs. Got it." Kenneth ran a hand over the surface. It was lighter than expected. Cold.
Zarek whistled. "Fancy. Can it take a hit?"
Kael didn't smile. "Only one way to test it."
Kenneth exhaled. "Do it."
Zarek's grin turned sharp. Lightning coiled around his fists.
---
They moved to the derelict courtyard below.
No rules. No holding back.
Zarek struck first—a whip of electricity aimed at Kenneth's throat. Kenneth twisted, fire erupting from his palms to meet the bolt. The collision sent a shockwave through the air, rattling the rubble.
"Armor status?" Kenneth barked.
Kael's voice crackled through the comm. "Stable. But your output's erratic. Don't force it."
Zarek lunged again. Kenneth ducked, pivoted—and released the lightning.
It tore from him in a jagged burst, searing the ground where Zarek had stood a second before.
Zarek rolled to his feet, panting. "Hell. That was close."
Kenneth stared at his hands. The armor hummed, dispersing the residual charge.
"It worked," he breathed.
Zarek smirked. "Now do it without almost killing me."
---
That night, they sat atop the clocktower, passing a bottle of stolen spiced wine between them. The city sprawled below, a sea of flickering lights.
Zarek took a swig. "Two months till the tournament. Think you'll keep up?"
Kenneth snorted. "Worry about yourself."
Kael, for once, wasn't buried in data. He watched the horizon, face unreadable. "Aeron Vale won't be the only problem. The faculty suspects something."
"Let them," Kenneth said. The fire in his veins pulsed, warm and steady. "We'll be ready."
Zarek clinked his bottle against Kenneth's. "Damn right."
Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled.
But for now, the storm was theirs.
---