The Labyrinth was honest. A monster did not lie about its hunger and a spear did not lie about its reach. But as Vane stood in the center of the Villa 3 training hall, his feet aching in silk stockings, he realized that Valerica Sol was far more dangerous than any Rank 4 Construct.

"Again," Valerica said.

Her voice was as cold as a winter morning. She stood in the center of the room with her blouse sleeves rolled up, watching Vane's every move with the eyes of a hawk.

Vane exhaled and shifted his weight. He was trying to mimic the "Sovereign's Glide" she had been drilling into him for the last three hours. It was a walk that required a perfect center of gravity with shoulders back and chin level. It was the physical manifestation of absolute arrogance. To most, it would have been a mask, but Vane had spent his life ruling the Oakhaven slums. He did not need to learn how to be a King because he already was one. He just needed to learn how to be a King that wore silk instead of scarred leather.

"Better," she murmured as she circled him. "But you are still walking like you are carrying a weapon. Relax your wrists, Vane. You are not looking for a target because you are the target. You want them to look at you, but you do not want them to think you care that they are looking."

"My feet are going numb," Ashe grumbled from the sidelines.

She was currently balanced on one leg with a heavy leather-bound book on her head. She was trying to keep her obsidian horns perfectly still, which was a feat in itself. Every time she got frustrated, a tiny red spark would jump from the tip of her horn, causing the book to wobble.

"If your feet are numb, it means you are not using your mana to circulate the blood," Valerica snapped without looking at her. "This is a two week war, girls. The moment we step out of this Villa, the Calamity Squad ceases to be a group of students. We become the top tier of the world's elite. If you stumble, you do not just lose a point. You lose your family's dignity."

Ashe sighed and the book on her head finally sliding off to hit the floor with a heavy thud. "I miss the mud. At least in the mud I could punch things without worrying about my posture. Why do mages need to dance anyway? If I want to impress a Duke, I should just show him how fast I can decapitate a Void-Hydra."

"Because a Duke can hire ten people to decapitate a Hydra," Valerica countered. She walked over to pick up the book and handed it back to Ashe with a pointed look. "But he cannot hire someone to have the bloodline and poise of a Razar. At the Gala, your grace is the measure of your power. Now, pick it up."

Vane watched the exchange with a faint smirk. He walked over to the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the Zenith archipelago to take a moment to breathe.

In the seven days since he had woken up, the horizon had changed. The clear blue sky was now cluttered with the massive shapes of Imperial Ironclads. They hung like predatory birds over the central spire. Below in the harbors, the water churned as gargantuan Eastern sea-beasts moored against the piers. These were creatures the size of small islands with shells made of coral and iron.

The mana pressure in the air was thick enough to taste. Even from this distance, Vane's vision was being flooded with information. He could see the silhouettes of Experts and Masters.

"They're all here," Vane said quietly.

"They have been arriving in shifts," Valerica said as she joined him at the window. She looked at the ironclads with a mix of nostalgia and dread. "The Empire wants to see if the Usurper is someone they can buy. The East wants to see if you are someone they should kill. And the Palaces are just waiting for the table to break so they can pick up the pieces."

Vane looked at his hands. The scars from the Labyrinth were fading and were being replaced by the smooth skin of high grade medicinal baths. He was the King of the Slums who had killed to keep his mother alive, yet here he was learning how to waltz.

"They are going to be disappointed," Vane said.

"Oh?" Ashe asked as she finally managed to keep the book steady while practicing a curtsy. "Why is that?"

"Because they are coming to see a commoner who got lucky," Vane said. He turned back to the room. These were the three EX-rank authorities that the world did not know yet. "They think they are coming to an exhibition. They do not realize they are walking into a cage with three monsters."

Valerica smiled with a sharp, genuine expression. "Four monsters, Vane. Do not forget yourself."

Isole looked up from the corner where she had been practicing brief responses with a mana-doll. "The threads are tightening," she whispered. Her mismatched eyes reflected the ironclads in the sky. "The world is curious about the boy who made the Monarch bleed. They will try to pull at you, Vane. Do not let them find the end of the string."

"I won't," Vane promised. He looked at Valerica. "Let's do the waltz again. If I am going to be a monster in a suit, I might as well be a graceful one."

"Wait, wait," Ashe interrupted with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "If Vane is the leader, shouldn't he have to practice with all of us? Valerica has had him for three hours. My turn. I want to see if he can lead an Eastern war dance without stepping on my toes."

"An Eastern war dance is not on the Gala program, Ashe," Valerica sighed, though she stepped aside.

Ashe marched over and grabbed Vane's hand with a grip that was entirely too strong for a ballroom. "Too bad. If I have to suffer through this etiquette torture, I am at least going to get some entertainment out of it."

She spun Vane around with a burst of strength that nearly sent him flying into a decorative vase. Vane laughed as he caught his balance. For a moment, the pressure of the arriving fleets and the weight of his Rank 1 status vanished. They were just four teenagers in a villa laughing as they tried to navigate a world that was determined to categorize them.

"You're leading too much!" Vane shouted as Ashe tried to dip him.

"I am a Razar! I always lead!" she roared back.

Valerica watched them with her arms crossed while shaking her head. Even Isole let out a small, melodic huff of amusement. They were getting closer. The Calamity Squad was no longer just a collection of powerful authorities. They were becoming a family.

"Enough!" Valerica finally called out, though she was smiling. "The tailor will be here in an hour for the final fitting. If you have bruises on your arms from wrestling, he will complain to the Headmistress. Vane, back to the Sovereign's Glide. Ashe, get that book back on your head."

"Yes, General Sol," Ashe muttered, but she did as she was told.

Vane took his place in the center of the hall. He looked at his reflection in the mirrored walls. He saw the midnight blue silk of his training robe and the sharp line of his shoulders. He was ready. The Gala was coming and he was going to show them exactly what happens when you let a rat into the palace.

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