Max barely slept Alex gave him his old room back but not before connecting a door leading to another room so he could help if ever needed. Max's body begged for rest, but his mind replayed the past week—every strike, every lesson, every warning the hooded man had whispered before vanishing. When dawn finally slipped past the curtains, Max sat up with a groan.
Alex was already awake, sitting cross-legged on his own bed, staring at him through the doorway like he'd been waiting.
"You good?" Alex asked.
"Define 'good,'" Max mumbled.
"So… no. Cool. Thought so."
Alex hesitated, chewing on his lip. Max recognized the look—it meant something was weighing on him.
"What's wrong?" Max asked.
Alex sighed. "There's something I need to tell you before today gets crazy."
Max straightened. "Okay."
"It's about Victoria."
Max blinked. "Victoria? What about that psycho killer?"
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. "I challenged her. To a duel."
Max stared at him. "…Why?!"
"Because," Alex said, exasperated, "everyone thought you were dead. And I wanted to 'honor your memory' by beating up your worst enemy. Or something. I don't know, she's crazy still."
Max snorted. "She definitely is."
"She accepted the challenge," Alex continued. "With a huge smile on her face she had a lot of steam to blow off that even I was unaware of."
Max's eyes widened. "Alex… you didn't have to—"
"I know," Alex interrupted. "But I did it anyway. Because you're my friend. And because if you were dead, someone needed to put her in her place."
Max didn't know what to say for a moment. "So… what happened?"
Alex groaned and flopped back onto his bed dramatically. "I lost. Not badly though we both passed out at the end. I gave her a better run than you did anyway. Sure felt like she was trying to kill me but that's probably how she does all her fights. I'm still sore even though it's been a while now since the fight."
Max winced. "Oof."
"Yeah. The whole school saw. She has some crazy new powers and they were completely different from what you faced. I'm glad I didn't see that big lizard though that would have sucked."
Max couldn't help but smile. "Alex… thanks. Seriously."
Alex waved him off, but his cheeks turned a little red. "Whatever. Just don't disappear again. I'm running out of excuses to give people."
Classes resumed that morning, but Headmaster Zephyr had already arranged for Max to attend his lessons privately just for the day. Too many questions, he'd said. Too many rumors. Better to return quietly. Controlled.
Max moved from room to room with appointed instructors, learning new things, reviewing the week's material, and catching up without the chaos of other students. But it felt strange like he was a ghost drifting through the academy, present but unseen.
Every now and then, a professor would pause and study Max a little too long.
"You've… changed," A Professor murmured as Max summoned a controlled burst of water he's been practicing and picking up quickly. Most likely due to Raven. "Your focus. Your stance. Something's shifted."
"Growth spurt?" Max offered weakly.
"Hmm." She didn't buy it.
Even in Runic Theory, the Professors eyes narrowed when Max traced the sigils with unusual precision.
"How could you be so precise in something you've barely been taught?"
"Guess I had time to practice while I was away."
"Practice does many things," the old Professor said. "But it does not rewrite the way a student holds power so suddenly."
Max felt a chill run up his spine.
Had the hooded man's training and merging with Raven changed him that much?
By mid-afternoon, the bells chimed. A deep, echoing sound that signaled an all-school gathering.
"Guess this is it," Alex whispered beside him as they walked toward the main hall.
Max swallowed. "I'm not ready."
"Too late now. Also, don't freak out if they cheer. Or boo. Or stare. Or—"
"Alex, please stop helping."
"Yeah, fair."
The Great Hall was already packed. Students filled the rows of floating seats while enchanted banners drifted along the ceiling. Murmurs swept through the crowd as Max entered sitting towards the back with Alex—whispers, gasps, exclamations.
"Is that—?"
"He's alive?!"
"Where did he go?"
"He looks different…"
Max felt the weight of hundreds of eyes.
Headmaster Zephyr stepped onto the platform, staff glowing faintly.
"Students and faculty," Zephyr began, his voice amplified by a gentle spell, "thank you for gathering on such short notice. Today, we address a matter that has stirred uncertainty throughout our academy."
He paused.
The hall fell silent.
"Max Dazeyrd," he said, his gaze landing on Max, "has returned."
A ripple moved through the crowd shock, relief, confusion, jealousy, fear, curiosity. All layered in a wave that nearly made Max step backward.
Zephyr continued, "There was speculation regarding his disappearance. We held a memorial thinking he was lost to us forever. Some thought we were lying and believed he left voluntarily after the trauma from his duel. Others believed the worst. But Max stands before you now alive, well, and under the academy's protection. The same as the rest of you."
Alex nudged Max. "Stand up," he whispered.
Max didn't feel ready. But he rose anyway.
A few students clapped hesitantly. Then more joined. Then more. Soon the hall filled with an uneven but genuine applause.
Victoria, seated with the top-ranking students, didn't clap. She simply stared, calculating, like she was trying to determine whether Max was the same boy she'd seen a month ago or a stranger wearing his face. Thinking if she had a job to finish.
Zephyr raised a hand.
"Max will resume regular classes tomorrow," he said. "Let this be the end of rumors. And the beginning of new focus."
The assembly ended.
Students spilled into the corridors, staring, whispering, approaching but not quite daring to speak.
Alex clapped Max on the back. "Well… welcome back, officially."
Max managed a small smile. "Thanks. Feels good to be alive."
But inside, something tightened.
Because Zephyr hadn't revealed anything about where Max had been.
And because Victoria's stare hadn't wavered once.
And because Max knew deep down that his return was only the beginning of much, much worse.