I watched members of House Dragon descend from the stands, their black uniforms stark against the arena's sandy floor. They gathered around Barkatus's broken form, carefully lifting him for transport to the infirmary.

"Are you alright?" Genta's voice cut through my daze. She knelt beside my ruined frame, her yellow eyes wide with concern. Loland and Eyarna flanked her, their faces tight with worry.

Been better, I replied through Mind Speech.

Footsteps approached from behind. Annes led the charge, with Copelan, Yulios, Sven, and Patter close behind. The monster students tensed at the approaching humans, but I quickly sent out, They're friends. It's okay.

Annes crouched down, examining the twisted remains of my combat chassis. "We need to get you out of there."

Copelan joined her, fingers probing the melted access hatch. "The latch is completely fused."

"Let me try." Yulios stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over us. He gripped the warped metal with both hands and pulled. The hatch groaned, then tore free with a screech of protesting metal.

I curled inward as the afternoon sun hit my exposed form: the pale flesh, the ragged edges, the missing parts. Everyone stared at what remained of my true self.

Eyarna's movement drew my attention. She shrugged off her brown uniform jacket and stepped closer. With gentle hands, she lifted me from the twisted frame and wrapped the jacket around my broken body. The fabric was warm from her body heat, and I clutched it close.

"We should get somewhere safe," Eyarna said, her voice soft but firm. She looked at both groups, monster and human students alike. "Follow me."

She led our strange procession through the Academy halls to room 401. The space we'd carved out as our sanctuary lay before us: the comfortable chairs, study tables, and walls covered in notes and drawings.

"This is actually pretty cool," Sven said, looking around the room. "Like a secret club house."

Eyarna carried me to one of the couches and sat down, settling me beside her. Her hand found my hair, stroking it in a gentle, comforting rhythm. I pulled the jacket tighter, hiding my ruined eyes beneath its folds.

I shifted in Eyarna's jacket, feeling exposed without my usual mechanical shell. My humanoid frame is in my dorm room, I sent through Mind Speech.

"We should get it." Sven glanced at my wrapped form. "So you don't have to be, you know... naked."

Annes's hand whipped out, smacking his arm. "Really?"

"Ow!" Sven rubbed the spot, his face flushing red. "I didn't mean-"

"I'll get it," Patter cut in, already heading for the door.

"I'll come too." Sven hurried after her. "I know where the room is."

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving an awkward silence in their wake. Our mixed group of monsters and humans filled room 401, yet no one seemed to know what to say. The humans kept stealing glances at my companions while Genta and Loland watched them with equal wariness.

Eyarna's fingers continued their gentle rhythm through my hair. "Are you really friends with Widow?" she asked, breaking the tension.

"Of course we are." Annes straightened her shoulders. "We're all C-rank, same class."

"C-rank for life now, probably." Copelan leaned against one of the study tables. "After walking out on Shawe like that."

"Well, anyone who pisses off Professor Piss-head is a friend in my book." Loland's sharp bark of laughter filled the room.

The humans stared at him for a moment before joining in. Even Genta cracked a smile, her earlier suspicion melting away as the laughter spread through our unlikely group.

The laughter faded into excited chatter about the duel. Annes leaned forward in her chair, eyes bright. "That was incredible though. Barkatus is probably one of the best fighters in the whole Academy, even if he is just a first year. And you matched him blow for blow!"

"The levels weren't even close," Copelan mused, his sharp mind clearly working through the fight. "But that defensive frame of yours made up the difference. By my calculations, those mechanical augmentations effectively made you the equivalent to a level 28, maybe even 29 fighter. Barkatus only kept up because of his combat experience and skills."

I stared at him through the folds of Eyarna's jacket. That's... impossible. The difference was that significant?

"Are you sure about those numbers?" Genta asked, her orange-spotted nose wrinkling in doubt.

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A small smile crossed Copelan's usually stern face. "I may not be great with physical combat, but tactics and analysis? That's where I shine. It's actually why I got invited here."

He settled more comfortably against the table. "Headmaster Reins visited my father's estate once. We ended up playing chess. The headmaster couldn't beat me; he tried three times. He wrote out my invitation right there at the table."

"But you're a swordsman," Loland said, confusion clear in his voice.

Copelan's smile faded. "My father's choice, not mine. He insisted I take the combat path, like everything else in my life."

"What would you rather be doing?" Genta asked softly.

He shrugged, looking down at his hands. "Something that doesn't involve fighting. A scholar maybe, or a map maker. Just... anything that uses my mind instead of my sword arm."

I watched Annes pat Copelan's arm in sympathy. The conversation shifted as Genta asked about their classes.

"Awful," Annes huffed. "These remedial courses are a complete waste. Basic sword forms? I mastered those years ago."

Loland barked out a laugh. "Try having to take four years of that garbage. At least you're only stuck there for now."

The door creaked open. Patter strode in with my humanoid frame slung over her shoulder, the metal joints clicking with each step. Sven followed, carrying my neatly folded uniform.

"Here you go." Patter propped my frame upright near the couch while Annes and Eyarna steadied it.

Everyone crowded around, examining the exposed mechanics of my humanoid shell. Copelan traced a finger along the bronze plating of the arm. "Fascinating. The way you've layered the metals mimics muscle structure perfectly."

"The porcelain work is beautiful." Eyarna touched the fingers of my right hand gently. "You should use more of it in the design."

It was mostly porcelain before, I sent through Mind Speech. Got damaged fighting in Weath.

The room fell silent at the village's name.

"Well," Genta cleared her throat. "Let's get you back in there. Boys, turn around and give some privacy."

No need. I'm not actually female.

"What?" Annes's voice cracked. "Are you a man then?"

Neither. Most of my body is... gone. Gender doesn't really apply anymore.

"How did that happen?" Copelan asked softly.

I'll explain once I'm back in my frame.

Copelan examined the chest piece. "How do we open it?"

There's a latch under the left collarbone.

His fingers found the catch, and the chest panel swung open with a soft click. Eyarna lifted me from the couch and helped settle me into the familiar confines of my mechanical shell. The chest plate closed with a satisfying snap.

I flexed my right arm, then my legs, testing the joints. Movement returned, smooth and controlled. After being trapped in my damaged combat chassis, the sensation of independence felt like a blessing.

I settled more comfortably in my chair, the familiar weight of my mechanical frame grounding me. Everyone watched, waiting.

"You promised to explain," Copelan said, his blue eyes sharp and focused. "A lot of things about you don't make sense. After getting to know you better, that story about you attacking innocent villagers in Weath? It sounds implausible. Stupid, even." He shook his head. "Someone clearly fabricated that tale.

"And the sword style you've been teaching us," he continued, gesturing at his fellow students. "Isparan Battlefield Fencing; that's designed for humans. Two arms, two legs. Not like those combat bodies you use." He leaned forward. "What's really going on with you? We deserve the truth."

"He's right." Annes stepped closer, her face earnest. "You can trust us. We've been training together, fighting together."

"Same here." Genta's orange-spotted nose crinkled as she smiled. "Me, Eyarna, and Loland; we're all trustworthy." She paused. "Well, maybe not Loland."

The kobold's copper scales bristled. "Hey!" He snarled, showing pointed teeth.

I looked around the room at these people who'd become my companions. Humans and monsters together, united in their concern. The weight of secrets pressed against my chest, threatening to spill out.

The truth is... I hesitated, my Mind Speech faltering. How could I explain what I barely understood myself? The fragments of memory, the impossible knowledge, the feeling that I was both old and newborn at once?

But they waited, patient and expectant. These people who'd stood beside me, fought for me, defended me. Perhaps they deserved to know what little truth I had.

Very well, I sent through Mind Speech. I'll tell you everything I know. Though it isn't much.

I gestured at my exposed mechanical frame. But first, I should get dressed. I am sitting here naked, after all.

Faces flushed red around the room. Sven's hands flew up to cover his eyes, while Annes rolled hers at his reaction. Copelan turned away with rigid formality, his back straight as a board.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," Loland boasted, snatching up my uniform from where Sven had dropped it. He tossed the bundle into my lap with a sharp-toothed grin.

I caught the clothes, the familiar fabric settling against my mechanical limbs. The uniform's weight felt reassuring after being exposed for so long. Though I couldn't actually feel temperature, the idea of being "naked" had become uncomfortable since arriving at the Academy.

Eyarna helped me slide the white silk blouse over my shoulders while Patter held out the tights. Their assistance wasn't strictly necessary as I'd dressed myself plenty of times; but the gesture touched something deep within my damaged soul.

The brass buttons on my jacket clicked softly as I fastened them, each one catching the afternoon light streaming through the windows. My fingers worked methodically down the row, muscle memory from countless mornings taking over.

I settled back onto the couch, the familiar weight of my Academy uniform providing a sense of security. The silk blouse felt smooth against my mechanical frame, while the fitted jacket hugged my constructed form perfectly. The tights covered the steel and bronze of my legs from view while the skirt provided some modesty for my lower parts, metal though they were.

"Shit," Patter muttered. "Your mask! I completely forgot it."

"It's fine." I reached up and unknotted my cravat, the red fabric sliding free from my collar. With practiced motions, I wrapped it around the ruined section of my face where eyes had once been. The silk settled against the ragged edges of pale flesh.

I apologize, I sent through Mind Speech. I don't feel comfortable having my wounds exposed.

Genta sat cross-legged on the floor beside me, her small green hand coming to rest on my leg. The gesture was surprisingly comforting. Her orange-spotted nose crinkled as she smiled up at me.

I turned to face the gathered group, taking in their expectant faces. Annes perched on the arm of a nearby chair, while Copelan stood rigid by the window. Yulios's massive frame filled an entire loveseat, and Sven had claimed a spot on the floor near Loland. Eyarna remained beside me on the couch, her presence steady and reassuring.

These weren't just classmates anymore. Somewhere between training sessions and shared meals, between fights and quiet study hours, they had become something more.

My friends.

It all began about one year ago, deep in the Lodrik Hellzone…

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