The next morning, Thorne was quietly making his bed, his movements methodical as he tried to clear his mind of the lingering tension from the previous days. Beside him, Rielle was tying her hair into a ponytail, her fingers deftly working through the strands. Thorne's eyes drifted to her hair again and again, finding the simple act oddly soothing. It was a stark contrast to the turmoil still simmering beneath his surface.

Next to their bed, Vance was still snoring loudly, sprawled out in a mess of blankets, while Rhea, always an early riser, was yawning and stretching, her short blond hair sticking out wildly on one side. The morning silence was shattered by the sudden bang of the door swinging open.

Everyone's eyes snapped to the entrance as Marcus sauntered in, his posture radiating confidence. The red-haired boy paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the room with cold arrogance, it stopped for a moment at Rielle and then moved until it landed on Thorne. His eyes narrowed, and a small, smug smirk played on his lips.

He began to approach, each step slow and deliberate, the kind of walk meant to instill fear, to assert dominance. It didn't work. Thorne remained calm, his expression impassive as Marcus closed the distance between them.

As if on cue, Sera and Caelan flanked Marcus, their smug expressions mirroring his. The three of them formed a wall in front of Thorne, attempting to box him in. Marcus leaned in so close that Thorne could feel the heat of his breath, the sickly sweet smell of whatever he had eaten for breakfast. "If I were you, I'd be careful from now on, boy wonder," Marcus hissed, his voice dripping with venom. "The shadows aren't safe anymore."

Thorne met Marcus' gaze, unimpressed. "Careful? Of what? You?" he scoffed, his voice laced with mockery. "I think I'm more worried about tripping over your ego than anything else."

Marcus' smirk wavered for a moment, replaced by a flash of irritation. "You think this is a joke?" he hissed, stepping even closer, their faces inches apart. "You've been strutting around here like you own the place, but you're nothing more than Uncle's pet. A little stray he decided to take in."

Thorne's eyes narrowed, his temper flaring. "And you're what? A lapdog trying to prove you've got teeth?" he shot back, his tone ice-cold. "You're not half as dangerous as you think you are, Marcus. You may have your core now, but you're still weak."

Marcus' face twisted with fury. "You think I won't kill you? You think I'm scared? Uncle won't get a whiff of what happened long after you're dead."

Thorne's laughter was cold, devoid of any real amusement. "Oh, I don't doubt you're stupid enough to try and kill me. It's just that you'll die in the process." Thorne leaned in, their noses actually touching now, and he relished the flicker of fear that flashed in Marcus' eyes. "I don't need Uncle to protect me," he continued in a low, deadly whisper, "I could gut you right here, right now, and make it look like an accident. But I won't. Not yet. I find you... amusing."

Thorne's eyes darkened, the amusement fading into something much colder, much crueler. "You see, Marcus," he went on, his tone conversational but with an edge of steel, "you're nothing but a little insect buzzing around my head. Annoying, sure, but not worth the effort to swat. But if you push me—" he paused, letting the threat hang in the air for a moment, "—I'll crush you. Slowly. And I'll enjoy every second of it."

Marcus clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he fought to keep his composure. "You're a dead man, Thorne. You just don't know it yet. One of these nights, when you least expect it, I'll be there. And I'll make sure you beg for your life before I end it."

Thorne's smile was cold, calculating. "You're welcome to try," he said softly. "But let me make one thing clear—if you come after me, I'll make sure you're the one doing the begging. And I won't be as merciful as you think."

Sera, who had been silently watching the exchange, finally spoke up, her voice dripping with disdain. "You think you're untouchable because Uncle favors you. But favorites can fall out of favor just as quickly."

Thorne turned his gaze on her for a brief moment, but he quickly dismissed her.

Sera's eyes flashed with anger at the casual dismissal but before she could speak up Marcus suddenly lunged forward, shoving Thorne with all his strength. Thorne barely moved, his body rooted in place as Marcus' power move fell flat. A flicker of confusion crossed Marcus' face as he realized that his newly formed core had done nothing to shake Thorne.

Despite Marcus' newly formed core, his strength was laughable compared to Thorne's. With more than 30 levels over him, Marcus was nothing more than a child trying to move a mountain.

Thorne's eyes flashed with a dangerous light, and he leaned in even closer, his voice a cold whisper. "Let me show you something, Marcus. Something Uncle taught me... but better."

With a sudden, swift movement, Thorne's hand shot out, grabbing Marcus by the collar and lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. Marcus's eyes widened in shock and fear, his hands scrabbling at Thorne's arm, trying to break free, but it was like trying to pry open a steel trap.

"You think you can threaten me?" Thorne snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "You're nothing but a weakling playing at being strong. And I don't tolerate weakness."

With a flick of his wrist, Thorne hurled Marcus backward. Marcus crashed to the ground with a sickening thud, his head bouncing off the rough stone floor. He lay there for a moment, dazed, his hand reaching up to touch the back of his head. When he pulled it away, his fingers were stained with blood.

"Not everyone needs a core to beat you into the ground," Thorne sneered, his voice filled with contempt. He turned his back on Marcus, dismissing him as if he were nothing more than a minor inconvenience, and casually returned to making his bed.

Marcus struggled to sit up, his face twisted in a mixture of pain and rage. "This isn't over!" he spat, his voice hoarse with fury.

Thorne didn't even bother to look at him as he replied, "Oh, it's over, Marcus. You just don't realize it yet."

He could feel Rielle shuffle behind him, her hand gripping her bow tightly, ready to defend him if needed. Thorne appreciated the sentiment, even though it was unnecessary. He had no fear of Marcus or his lackeys; they were nothing compared to what he had already endured.

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As they made their way to class, the incident with Marcus was the main topic of conversation among the recruits. Vance, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, blurted out, "How the hell were you able to do that? That guy had a core!"

Thorne, waiting in line for the next exercise, gave Vance a playful look. "If you want the answer, come and get it," he teased.

Vance rolled his eyes but followed Thorne onto the suspended beam, crouching low with his hands extended. As Thorne walked carefully across, balancing on the balls of his feet, he noticed the deep drop below them. He reached the other side with ease and turned to face an impatient Vance.

"Spill," Vance demanded as he reached Thorne, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Thorne shrugged casually as they descended the wooden structure for their next exercise. "Training, Vance. Just training. I've been at it since I was a little kid."

Vance looked at him doubtfully. "Levels aren't everything," Thorne said, his tone casual.

Talon's sharp voice cut through the chatter. "Go!" she screamed, and Thorne, Vance, and four other recruits took off running.

Thorne tempered his speed, allowing two others to pass him by. He executed the jump effortlessly, clearing the obstacle with grace. As he landed, he activated Mask of Deceit, forcing signs of exertion onto his face. He fell onto all fours, crawling under the net as if the exercise was taxing him more than it actually was. He passed one of the other recruits and quickly jumped to his feet the moment he was clear of the net.

As he swerved between the vertical logs and began scaling the wooden surface, he couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction. Once he reached the top, he doubled over, taking deep breaths, checking his stamina. He had only lost 30 points—nothing he couldn't handle.

Thorne glanced over at Vance, who was still catching up. His friend's curiosity was endearing, but Thorne knew that the answers Vance sought were not ones he was ready to share. Not yet, at least.

Vance finally reached the top of the wall, panting heavily. He shot Thorne a look, half-annoyed, half-amused. "You're still not telling me everything," he accused, though his tone was more playful than serious.

Thorne just grinned, clapping Vance on the back. "Gotta keep some secrets, right?" he said, his voice light. But beneath the surface, he knew that those secrets were what kept him alive, what kept him ahead of everyone else.

As they moved on to the next exercise, Thorne could feel Sid's eyes on him.

During their next class Thorne was paired with Rhea, and their swords clashed in a hypnotic rhythm, the sound of metal meeting metal filling the training hall. Thorne was always glad to have Rhea as his sparring partner—she was skilled with weapons, especially swords and spears. Each clash, each movement, was met with precision and intent. He couldn't wait to train with her once she formed her core; she would be a difficult opponent.

They both were breathing hard by the end of the class, but a satisfied smile lingered on their faces. As the session ended and Thorne was about to leave, Sid's barked command stopped him in his tracks.

"Thorne! My office, after your last class."

Vance was on him the moment they were alone. "What was that about?" he asked, not able to hide his curiosity.

Thorne shrugged, honestly having no idea. "No clue. Guess I'll find out later."

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind, and before long, Thorne found himself in the round room facing two recruits who acted as guards. They immediately let him pass, giving him directions to Sid's office. Thorne nodded and began his ascent; Sid's office was five levels above.

He was crossing a bridge when a familiar face made him freeze in place. "Eliza?" he murmured, almost not believing his eyes. He hadn't seen her for so long that, for a moment, he thought she was someone else. But her shoulder-length hair, her cute nose, and her slim figure were unmistakable.

Eliza froze as well, her eyes widening in shock as she stared up at him. "Thorne?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Thorne smiled and replied, "Probably the same thing you're doing."

Eliza's eyes widened even more as she looked between Thorne and her friends, her expression conflicted. The other recruits with her looked at her in question as she seemed to struggle with what to say.

A girl by her side tugged at her sleeve, snapping Eliza out of her stupor. "I'm glad to see you, Thorne, but I have to go. We need to get cleaned up before our next training session." She smiled at him, almost embarrassed, showing him her torn cloak and stained clothes.

Thorne frowned, noticing her friends were in similar condition. "I'll come find you later," Eliza said as she waved at him, passing by with her friends.

Thorne watched their retreating forms for a moment before continuing on his way. He eventually found Sid's door and knocked gently. A gruff voice called for him to enter, and he stepped inside.

Sid was in the middle of sorting a pile of clothes, which he promptly tossed into a dresser. "Sit," he barked, pointing to a chair.

Thorne obeyed, sitting down as he watched Sid rummage through a small trunk, eventually pulling out some socks and an old pair of slippers. It was strange seeing his usually intense trainer doing something so mundane.

"Maybe I should come back later," Thorne said, feeling awkward.

"Give me a second," Sid replied as he continued sorting through his belongings. After a few moments, he pulled out a bottle of red liquor and sat opposite Thorne. "Want some?" he asked, offering the bottle.

Thorne shook his head, growing more confused by the second. Sid took a long swig, sighing in pleasure. "I hate teaching," he finally exclaimed.

"Good to hear it," Thorne retorted.

Sid shrugged, slumping back in his chair. "One kid is my limit. Having so many running around is exhausting."

Thorne nodded, understanding the man's sentiment. During their classes, Sid constantly had to yell at the other recruits, making sure they didn't accidentally—or intentionally—kill each other.

"Thorne," Sid said with complete seriousness. "You've got to fake forming your core. Immediately."

Thorne sat up straight, alarmed. "What?"

Sid looked at him with judging eyes. "You suck at faking being weak. It's as clear as day! The other recruits might not notice, but the older ones will figure it out soon. I'm pretty sure Talon suspects; she's just too scared to say anything in case Uncle gets involved."

"Crap," Thorne muttered. "What now? When should I do it? Tonight? Tomorrow?" Panic began to set in.

Sid shook his head, his expression grim. "It's not that simple."

"Why?" Thorne demanded.

"When a core is formed, the aether around the person becomes agitated—a maelstrom of magic, obvious to everyone. We need to fake that somehow. I'm already searching for an item that could mimic the effects, but finding a magical item in Alvar is difficult and time-consuming." Sid put the bottle by his feet and massaged his temples. "What a clusterfuck," he muttered.

Thorne's mind raced. The clear problem to solve made him calm, his thoughts focusing on finding a solution. As his panic eased, the solution became obvious. The only question was whether he trusted Sid enough to reveal his skills. So far, the man had protected him, but Thorne hadn't forgotten the times Sid had let information slip to Uncle, whether with good intentions or not.

"What?" Sid asked, frowning as he noticed Thorne looking at him with an inscrutable gaze.

Thorne didn't respond, his mind still wrestling with the decision. "You have that look on your face again," Sid said, narrowing his eyes. "That cold, calculating look, like you're deciding whether to kill me or leave me to die in a hole."

Thorne's eyebrows rose in surprise, and he huffed a laugh. "I wasn't thinking of killing you," he paused, staring intently at his trainer, "just whether I should trust you."

It was Sid's turn to be surprised. "Well? What's your decision?"

Thorne stood up, his expression unreadable. "Undecided," he replied curtly. "I'll fake my core when the next recruit goes through the transformation."

He moved to the door, his hand on the handle, but paused as Sid spoke again. "Just so you know, that look—you've got it down pat. It's eerily similar to the one Uncle has when he's hatching his plans."

Thorne didn't respond. He simply opened the door and walked out, leaving Sid alone with his thoughts.

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