Kez wasn't their problem right now.
Jack said it because someone had to. Because the name had started pulling the group's attention in the wrong direction, and attention was too expensive down here.
The corridor did not care about grief, curiosity, or old grudges. It narrowed ahead, its ceiling dropping low enough that Dren had to tilt his head forward to keep from clipping a pipe. The stone underfoot changed again, academy polish giving way to older maintenance tile cracked by age and pressure. Every few steps, the floor hummed faintly, like mana was moving beneath them in veins.
Ley walked at the front.
That still irritated Jack.
Not because Ley was leading. Jack could accept that, if accepting it kept people alive. What irritated him was the way Ley made it look casual. Like the academy had not sealed half the routes behind them. Like the Devil Sect had not almost broken Dren against a wall and snapped Cael's wrist like dry wood.
Like Ley had not just turned debris into a weapon with terrifying precision.
Jack watched his back and said, "Slow down."
Ley did, immediately. That made Jack dislike him slightly less and distrust him slightly more.
"Better?" Ley asked without looking back.
"Don't get too far ahead."
"Aw. Worried about me?"
"No."
"Aww, you're just so shy."
Dren made a low sound behind them. "Can you two put a hold on this lover's quarrel? This isn't the place for it."
Ley glanced back. "You sound tense. Ease up, big guy."
Dren's jaw tightened. "I wonder why."
Eva's hand brushed along the wall as she walked. Her fingers moved lightly over old grooves and hairline cracks, not pressing, just listening. "The ward pulse is moving away from us," she said.
Jack turned his head slightly. "Meaning?"
"Routes behind us are being closed in sequence. Not randomly." She swallowed once. "The building is guiding survivors inward."
Yla's gaze stayed forward. "Guiding survivors inward sounds nice until you remember it might be guiding everyone inward."
No one needed her to explain what everyone meant.
Jack picked up the pace.
The corridor bent once, then opened into a wider service passage. Blue ward light spilled across the floor from somewhere ahead, faint at first, then stronger with every step. Voices came with it. Not screams. Orders. Coughing. The low, crowded murmur of too many people trying to stay calm in one place.
Dren let out a breath. "That better be the shelter."
Ley smiled over his shoulder. "Either that or the Devil Sect has excellent hospitality."
"Not the time," Eva muttered.
"Fair."
Two instructors appeared at the end of the passage, weapons already raised. One held a spear glowing at the tip. The other had a spell formed between both palms.
"Stop," the spear instructor ordered. "Names."
Jack lifted his hands. "Jack Veyr. First year. With Cael Sorein, Eva Sol, Dren Talvek, Yla Ferren, and Ley Quinston. We came through service access. Injured, no escort."
The instructor's eyes moved over them, sharp and tired.
A moment later, the warded door behind him opened.
Sound spilled out.
Students. Medics. Instructors. Shelter.
Jack stepped through last, only after the others entered.
***
The shelter swallowed them in layers.
Noise first. Then heat. Then the smell of blood, wet stone, antiseptic, and too many frightened students packed under one ceiling.
Teachers moved everywhere. Some checked names against glowing slates. Some dragged benches into rough barricades. Others stood at the exits with spells half-formed, eyes fixed on the warded doors like they expected the next knock to come with teeth.
A tired instructor intercepted Jack's group before they made it ten steps. His gaze passed over Cael's wrist, Dren's posture, Eva's pale face, then stopped briefly on Ley.
"Foundational Systems group," he said, pointing with his slate. "Far left wall. Stay with your group unless medical pulls you out."
Jack nodded. "Understood."
They moved through the crowd.
Halfway there, they passed Dan.
He stood near a pillar with a board in one hand, marking names into rows with quick, efficient strokes. Students gathered around him, answering in shaky voices. His coat was dusty. His jaw was bruised. His expression was still painfully controlled.
Then his eyes lifted.
They landed on Jack first, then the Core Four.
Then Ley.
For a fraction of a second, Dan's hand stopped moving.
Ley smiled politely, as if he had done nothing unusual all morning.
Dan's eyes narrowed by the smallest amount, then he looked back to his board. "Your group is against the far wall. Keep moving."
Jack did.
At the far left wall, their Foundational Systems group sat in uneven clusters.
And there, leaning against a pillar, stood Kez, his uniform dirt-streaked and his sleeves crumpled like he had been dragged through the academy walls.
He noticed them almost immediately.
For a second, his eyes moved over Jack first, then Cael's wrist, Dren's bent posture, Eva's pale face, and Yla standing close enough to guard all of them without looking like she was guarding anyone.
Then his gaze found Ley.
Something flickered across Kez's face.
Surprise, sharp and brief.
He hid it almost as soon as it appeared, smoothing it under a tired smile. Not his usual wide, shameless grin. Just a small curve of the mouth, worn down by pain and whatever trouble had dragged him here first.
Ley saw it.
His own smile softened by a fraction.
Jack noticed that too.
Before anyone could speak, Kez looked away.
He pushed himself off the pillar carefully, one hand brushing his side like the movement had cost him more than he wanted anyone to see. A nearby student shifted to make room, and Kez took the opening immediately, slipping deeper into the cluster along the wall.
Dren frowned. "Is he seriously walking away?"
Cael's expression stayed flat. "That might be the first sensible thing he's done today."
Eva watched Kez disappear behind a group of injured students. "He looked hurt."
Yla's voice was quiet. "Everyone looks hurt."
Jack did not answer.
Kez had seen them, recognized them, and chosen not to turn the moment into a performance.
It was strange enough for Jack to notice.
A medic reached Cael before anyone decided whether to follow Kez.
"You," she said, pointing at his wrist. "Sit."
Cael looked at her. "I can wait."
"No, you can sit."
Dren gave a short laugh, then immediately regretted it, one hand pressing against his stomach.
The medic's eyes moved to him. "You too."
Dren's face fell. "I didn't even say anything."
"You breathed like someone with bruised ribs."
"That's just how I breathe."
"Sit."
Dren sat.
Eva lowered herself beside them before being told, her hand still hovering near the wall like part of her mind was trapped in the ward pulse. Yla stayed standing behind the group, watching the room instead of the medic. Jack remained near the edge, eyes tracking where Kez had disappeared into the cluster of students.
Kez avoiding them should have felt like a relief.
It did not.
Kez was annoying. Reckless. Loud. The kind of person who made a situation worse just by deciding he had an opinion on it.
But walking away quietly?
That did not fit.
Ley stood beside Jack, hands folded behind his back, gaze fixed in the same direction.
Jack looked at him. "You know why he left."
Ley's smile shifted into something almost sympathetic.
"Maybe the Devil Sect finally managed what the academy couldn't," he said.
Jack's eyes narrowed. "Which is?"
"Beat some sense into him."
Dren gave a strained snort from the floor. "That's optimistic."
Cael sat stiffly while the medic began wrapping his wrist in a pale strip of treated cloth. "If sense entered that guy, it entered by accident."
Eva glanced toward the cluster Kez had disappeared into. "He looked exhausted."
Yla's voice stayed practical. "Everyone looks exhausted."
Across the hall, Dan's voice cut through the section.
"Foundational Systems group, quiet down. I need names confirmed again. If you are injured but conscious, answer for yourself. If someone near you cannot answer, speak for them."
He stood with a board tucked against his forearm, slate glowing in his hand. Dust marked his coat, and the bruise along his jaw had darkened, but his expression remained controlled enough to feel unnatural.
A student near the front asked, "Where is Instructor Verin?"
The question moved through the group like a chill.
Dan's eyes lifted from the board. "Unavailable."
That did not help.
He seemed to know it, because he added, "Until she returns or gives direct instruction, I am managing this section. Stay in your assigned area. Do not wander. Do not start rumors. Do not cast unless ordered."
Dren muttered, "He says that like anyone has the energy."
The medic tightened the wrap around Cael's wrist.
Cael's face went blank.
"Stabilized," the medic said. "No fighting."
Cael looked offended. "I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking it."
Before Cael could respond, Dan's voice sharpened.
"Cadet Jolkev."
Several students turned.
Kez, half-hidden behind two seated cadets, froze.
Dan did not raise his voice. "You are part of this group."
Kez slowly looked over, wearing the tired smile of a man who had been caught committing the crime of existing elsewhere.
"Instructor," he said, "I was making space."
"You are wandering."
"I was wandering locally."
"Return."
Kez glanced once at Ley.
The look was quick. Almost nothing.
Then he sighed, pushed himself upright with visible care, and walked back toward the Foundational Systems group.
For once, he obeyed without making it worse.
That was somehow the strangest part.
Kez lowered himself near the edge of the Foundational Systems group, close enough to technically belong and far enough to make it clear he wanted no part of them. He stretched one leg out, folded the other, and leaned back against the wall with the careful ease of someone pretending his body was not arguing with every movement.
Dan moved through the group with a slate, taking names and injury reports.
When he reached Kez, he barely paused.
"Kez Jolkev."
"Still Kez Jolkev."
Dan marked something down.
"Injured?"
"Unfortunately."
Another mark.
Then Dan moved on.
Dren stared after him.
"That's it?"
Dan ignored the question entirely.
Jack frowned.
Only a few hours ago, Kez had slammed a lecture door open hard enough to make the entire room freeze. He had embarrassed Dan in front of the class, interrupted his lecture, and dragged the morning into complete disorder.
Now Dan seemed determined to pretend he wasn't there.
That somehow felt stranger.
"Dren Talvek."
Dren sat up a little. "Alive. Bruised. Apparently breathing wrong."
The medic beside him said, "Likely rib trauma."
Dan marked the slate. "Eva Sol."
"Conscious," Eva said. "Mana strained, but stable."
The medic glanced at her. "Moderate strain. She rests."
Eva looked like she wanted to object, then did not have the energy.
"Cael Sorein."
"Stabilized," Cael said.
The medic corrected him. "Broken wrist. Temporarily set. No combat activity."
Cael's mouth tightened.
Dan wrote that down too. "Yla Ferren."
"Uninjured enough."
Dan paused.
Yla stared back.
He wrote something. "Jack."
Jack answered without thinking. "Conscious. Minor injuries."
Dan's gaze flicked over him, assessing. Then he nodded and marked the board.
Finally, his eyes moved to Ley.
"Ley Quinston."
Ley smiled. "Alive, conscious, and tired of carrying the team."
Dan's expression did not change. "Any injuries?"
"None worth reporting."
Dan wrote slowly. "Then stay with the group."
"Of course, Instructor."
Dan nodded once and continued toward another cluster of students.
Ley watched him go, then glanced across the shelter.
His eyes landed on Kez.
Kez was staring at nothing in particular, one knee raised, fingers idly tapping against it.
Ley shifted closer with the same confident smile on his face.
"How are you holding up?"
Kez looked over.
The question seemed to catch him off guard.
"Physically or academically?"
Ley laughed softly. "That answer concerns me."
"Then academically."
"And?"
Kez shrugged.
"Getting expelled, probably."
Jack blinked.
Dren nearly choked.
Eva looked up immediately.
Ley's smile faltered for the first time all day.
"I'm sorry?"
"Yeah, Verin was pretty pissed about the unfortunate accident I got into earlier."
Ley stared at him.
"Unfortunate accident?"
Kez nodded with grave sincerity. "Extremely unfortunate."
Dren leaned forward despite the medic's glare. "What accident gets you expelled on the first day?"
Kez looked offended by the question. "Why are you saying that like I planned it?"
Cael's eyes narrowed. "Did you not slam open the lecture hall door?"
"Kicked is a very hostile word."
"He said slammed," Yla said.
"Also hostile."
Dren stared at him. "You hit Instructor Dan with a door."
Kez lifted a finger immediately. "No. The door malfunctioned and opened with more enthusiasm than expected during a moment of intense academic urgency. Instructor Dan was an unfortunate victim just like me."
Cael blinked.
Yla looked away first, but her mouth twitched.
Dren gave one sharp laugh, then winced hard enough that the medic shoved him back by the shoulder.
"Don't laugh," she said.
Dren wheezed. "He's getting expelled because the door got excited."
Kez pointed at him. "Exactly. See? He understands."
"I understand that you're doomed."
"Temporary misunderstanding."
Jack frowned. "You interrupted class, hit an instructor with a door, and got expelled before lunch."
"When you say it like that, it sounds bad."
"That is what happened."
"That is one interpretation."
Cael's mouth twitched again. "What is your interpretation?"
Kez leaned back, careful with his side. "I was a motivated student attempting to resolve an administrative concern. Due to poor timing, structural enthusiasm, and the academy's general lack of door safety protocols, the situation escalated."
Yla couldn't help but let out an amused chuckle.
Kez seemed dejected. "Yes, please continue with your laughter at my misfortune."
Eva pressed her lips together, but her eyes had softened with reluctant amusement. "At least you will be leaving with a record. I don't think something like this has ever happened in the history of TROP. You seem the type of guy to relish something like that."
Kez did not answer right away.
That alone made the amusement fade a little.
Dren noticed it too, but unlike Eva, he did not soften.
"Don't tell me you're actually upset," he said. "What did you think was going to happen?"
Cael's mouth twitched, though there was nothing warm in it. "It is impressive, in a way. First day at TROP, and you managed to become a disciplinary case before most people learned the building layout."
Yla leaned back against the wall. "That takes talent."
"Thank you," Kez said quietly.
Yla's eyes narrowed. "That was not praise."
"Gotta cheer myself up somehow."
The answer came too flat.
Dren scoffed. "Come on. This is karma. From the moment you showed up, you were acting like the rules were suggestions written for other people."
A few nearby students glanced over.
Kez kept his gaze on the floor.
His fingers rested against his knee, but they were not tapping anymore.
Cael's expression cooled further. "Honestly, I thought people like you always had someone ready to clean up the mess."
Kez smiled faintly, but it did not reach his eyes. "A common assumption."
"Is it wrong?"
"Not useful enough."
Yla studied him. "So the academy finally found a line you cannot talk your way past."
"Maybe."
Dren blinked. "Maybe?"
Kez lifted his head slightly. His face still carried the remains of the earlier joke, but the energy behind it had gone quiet.
"I said probably," he said. "Not definitely."
Cael gave a short, humorless laugh. "You are still trying to negotiate?"
"Yes."
"With Verin?"
"Yes."
"After today?"
"Especially after today."
The group went quiet for a moment.
Jack watched him from the side. He still did not like Kez. Nothing about the morning had given him a reason to. But there was something strange about seeing him like this, with the noise stripped away and the ridiculous excuses sitting on top of something sharper.
Kez looked across the shelter.
At the medics.
At the students wrapped in blankets.
At the instructors standing by the warded doors with spells still ready in their hands.
Then he spoke again, quieter.
"You can call it karma if that pleases you but it's still very unfair."
Dren's eyebrows rose. "How is it unfair?"
Kez ignored him.
"Sure, I ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time but if this place throws me out now, then that is it. One morning. One mistake. One bad entrance. That becomes the whole story."
Cael's gaze sharpened. "You are making it sound smaller than it was."
"No," Kez said. "I'm just showing you my perspective. I'm not the bad guy here."
Dren looked at him flatly. "That's what every bad guy says."
Kez shook his head. "I'm different."
"Again, that's wh—"
Before Dren could finish his sentence, the shelter lights flickered.
The conversation died instantly.
Across the hall, instructors straightened. The ward lattice over the main door brightened, blue lines tightening into white. Students went still. The fragile pocket of conversation around them vanished as if the room had inhaled and forgotten how to release it.
A comm crystal near the center of the shelter crackled.
Static filled the hall.
Then a voice came through, rough with exhaustion but steady.
"All lower shelters, confirm reception."
Several devices answered in broken sequence.
The voice continued.
"Primary breach has been sealed. Active hostile signatures inside academy grounds have been eliminated, captured, or confirmed withdrawn. Ward command has regained control of the inner rings."
No one moved.
No one trusted the words fast enough.
The voice repeated, clearer this time.
"The disaster event has ended. All secured shelters are safe. Remain in assigned sections until evacuation routes are opened and final roll is completed."
For a second, the shelter stayed frozen.
Then sound returned in pieces.
Someone sobbed. Someone laughed once and covered their mouth. A medic lowered her head for half a breath, then went right back to work. Teachers lowered their spells by inches, not fully willing to believe safety just because it had been announced.
Dren let his head fall back against the wall.
"Finally."
Eva closed her eyes.
Cael's shoulders loosened carefully around his wrist. Yla looked toward the warded doors, still guarded, but no longer expecting them to burst inward.
Jack looked at Kez. For a split second, he thought he saw the edge of a smile. But when he focused, it was gone.
Kez seemed very solemn and anxious.
Like the disaster ending only meant his next problem had finally arrived.