Room 401 buzzed with excited discussion as we gathered around the battered study table. Papers covered in Copelan's neat handwriting lay scattered across its surface, with training schedules, combat formations, and tactical analyses all written upon the pages.

"So it's settled then," Annes said, tapping her fingers against the wood. "Our team will be the six of us."

I nodded, my mechanical joints whirring softly. The combination seemed optimal: Annes's swordsmanship, Genta's magic, Loland's adaptability, Yulios's raw strength, and Sven's agility would complement my own capabilities.

Patter leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "I'm not really a tournament girl, so you guys have fun."

"And I'm better suited helping with strategy," Copelan added, organizing his notes with methodical precision.

Eyarna smiled from her corner desk where she worked on an enchantment. "They don't allow non-combat students to participate anyway. But I'll be cheering for you all."

I ran calculations through my mind, already planning modifications to my war frame to accommodate non-lethal combat. This team held promise, if we could coordinate effectively.

"The first round, the one-on-one matches, will be our biggest challenge," Copelan explained, spreading out a fresh sheet of paper. "You'll need to fight without relying on group tactics."

My mind focused as I absorbed this information. Our strength had always been in coordinated attacks: Annes striking while Genta provided magical cover, Sven darting in as I drew attention. Fighting alone would require different strategies.

"Each team puts forward three fighters," Copelan continued, sketching quick diagrams. "Best two out of three wins the round. Based on your dueling experience, I recommend Widow, Annes, and Loland take these matches."

Annes cracked her knuckles. "Makes sense. I've got plenty of solo combat experience from my adventuring days."

"And I did train extensively in formal dueling before coming here," Loland added, his copper scales gleaming with pride.

I considered my own experiences: the fight with Lyman, the battle against Barkatus, the three-versus-one duel. Those experiences should help me do well in the first round.

What restrictions are there on equipment? I asked, my mental voice soft but clear.

Copelan shuffled through his notes. "None, but standard tournament rules apply. No lethal strikes, no permanent maiming. They'll have healers on standby, but..."

Understood. I'll need to tone down my war frame's weaponry. I finished.

"I can help modify your frame," Eyarna offered. "Add some protective enchantments that still fall within tournament guidelines."

Genta leaned forward, her yellow eyes bright. "And I can practice defensive spells with the others. Even if we're not fighting in the duels, we should be ready for the other rounds."

"The second round should be straightforward," Copelan said, tracing a rough map of the dungeon levels. "It'll take place on floors five through twelve, so the monsters shouldn't bee too difficult. You've all fought through those floors dozens of times by now, so the layout will be familiar to you."

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We know every tunnel and chamber between five and twelve, I agreed. Through my scout spiders' sensors, I'd mapped the entire area in detail.

"Two artifacts are hidden somewhere on those floors," Copelan continued. "The first two teams to retrieve one and make it back advance to the finals."

Sven's eyes lit up. "The battle royale!"

Copelan nodded, his usual stern expression softening slightly. "This is where our months of practice will really show. No other team has trained together like we have."

He was right. Night after night in the Hellzone had forged us into a cohesive unit. Each person knew their role instinctively: Genta's ice magic creating barriers while Sven struck from the shadows, Yulios drawing attention with his massive frame as Loland and Annes flanked. And my tendrils, ready to protect or strike as needed.

"We should focus on defensive formations," Genta suggested. "Other teams will likely go all-out offensive in the final round."

Agreed. I can modify my chassis to emphasize protection over attack power. The auric steel tendrils could form an effective shield wall while still maintaining combat capability.

"What about the artifact retrieval though?" Yulios asked. "Should we split up to cover more ground?"

"Too risky," Copelan replied. "Other teams will be down there too, probably looking for fights. Better to stay together."

I considered our options. My scout spiders could search independently while we move as a group. They know those tunnels as well as I do.

"Perfect!" Annes exclaimed. "Chonsey can lead one search while we follow another route. Double our chances of finding an artifact quickly."

Looking around the room at my companions, my friends, I felt an unfamiliar sensation. Pride, perhaps? Not in my own abilities, but in what we'd built together.

We should increase our training schedule, I suggested. The tournament starts in three weeks.

"We still need a name," Copelan said, gathering his papers into a neat stack. "Every team competing will have one."

Annes frowned. "Why bother?"

"Tradition." Copelan shrugged. "The chapter houses will use their names: Dragon House, Sword House, and so on. Independent teams usually pick something dramatic."

"Like what?" Yulios asked.

"Last year's winners of the regular school tournament called themselves the Crimson Fang," Copelan replied. "Before that, House Swords won."

Genta rolled her eyes. "Humans and their need to sound impressive."

"The Broken Blades?" Sven suggested.

"Too depressing," Annes said.

"Monster Squad!" Loland declared, puffing out his chest.

"There are only three monsters on our team," Eyarna pointed out.

Ideas flew back and forth. The Golden Shield. Dawn's Champions. The Untouchables. Each suggestion felt hollow, manufactured.

Gutter House, I said suddenly.

The room went silent. Then Annes burst out laughing. "Perfect!"

"You can't be serious," Copelan protested, but I could see him fighting back a smile.

Why not? My mental voice was firm. That's what they call us, isn't it? The rejects. The outcasts. The ones not good enough for the real houses.

"The trash students," Genta added, her eyes gleaming as she smiled. "I like it."

"It would certainly make a statement," Copelan admitted. "Especially when we start winning."

Sven grinned. "Imagine their faces when they have to announce 'Team Gutter House advances to the finals.'"

The energy in the room shifted. What had started as a joke transformed into something else; defiance, perhaps. Pride. We'd taken their insults, their discrimination, their attempts to keep us down. Now we would take their mockery and turn it into our banner.

"All those A-rank students who looked down on us," Annes said, "they'll have to watch Gutter House climb to the top."

And unlike the chapter houses, I added, we earned every bit of our strength. No privileges. No special treatment. Just hard work and determination.

"And illegal Hellzone diving," Patter quipped from her corner.

"Technical details," Loland waved dismissively.

Copelan wrote "TEAM GUTTER HOUSE" at the top of a fresh page in his precise handwriting. Below it, he started listing our training schedule for the coming weeks.

I looked around at my my friends and felt that strange warmth again. We'd found each other here, outcasts all: the monster students, the failed warriors, the ones deemed unworthy. Together we'd grown stronger than anyone suspected. Now we would show them exactly what Gutter House could do.

It's settled then, I declared. We are Gutter House.

"To Gutter House!" Annes raised an imaginary toast.

The others echoed her cry, their voices filled with determination and barely suppressed laughter. Even Copelan joined in, his usual stern expression cracking into a genuine smile.

We were the rejects, the C-ranks, the ones they tried to break. But we would make them remember the name Gutter House.

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