Ryosuke braced himself before he spoke, drawing in a long, steadying breath. His face was calm but his shoulders carried a heaviness Mikey had never seen before.
He made his choice.
"They... rigged it, and they will continue to rig the tests."
Mikey froze, his green eyes fixed on him, unblinking.
"Yeah, I gathered that much. But why?"
"The Brass." Ryosuke's voice was low, measured. "They dislike you. They believe you are... a threat. Solely because you are from the Council. They do not trust you." Mikey's expression shifted—his eyes softened for a moment, only to harden again as Ryosuke went on. "From what I have been told, they want you to fail. So they design the phases to be nearly impossible for someone your age. Not completely impossible... but close. If you pass, in their eyes, you are too valuable to discard. But if you fail..."
Mikey leaned forward, his voice sharp.
"What happens if I fail?"
"You will be banished. Sent north... to the Bloody Mist."
Mikey's blood ran cold. His voice cracked, disbelief cutting through it.
"What?! B-banished? What the hell?! And you said north—to where?"
Ryosuke inhaled slowly. The words came out heavy.
"The Bloody Mist."
"That doesn't sound too friendly." Mikey's laugh was hollow, more panic than humor. "What is that?"
"The same place that beast came from," Ryosuke said. His tone was flat, like every word weighed on him. "Where more like it roam. A poisoned, toxic wasteland. The air itself burns red from radiation. The soil is black, the rivers run thick with blood and metal. It is not a place one survives. It is a place you are sent to die."
Mikey sat upright, heat flooding his chest. "And you knew? Who else knew?! And no one thought to warn me?!"
Ryosuke rose from his chair and moved closer, his expression grim. "Bobby, Luciana, and I... we thought it would be in your best interest not to know. We believed you needed a clear mind to face the first test. We thought wrong. We should have told you. I am sorry."
Mikey let the words sink into him like stones. His head dropped into his palms, his breath catching. The Blood Bear was only phase one. What else could they possibly throw at him? How much worse could it get? The question gnawed at his chest until it finally broke out of him, raw.
"Why?"
Ryosuke tilted his head. "Why what, young Mikey?"
"Why can't I just be happy, Ryo?" Mikey's voice wavered, tears gathering despite how hard he tried to choke them back. He peeked up at Ryosuke, his green eyes shimmering. "Why can't I just be happy anymore? I finally found something good... somewhere I belong after losing everything. And now—" his voice cracked, "—they're trying to take it away. I don't understand... why do they want to take it away from me?"
Ryosuke placed a hand gently on his shoulder, the weight grounding him. His voice softened to a whisper.
"They are only doing this because you wish to be a Hit Squad member. That path comes with knowledge—knowledge of Defectors, of secrets others will never touch. It is a position of power, of trust. That is why they fear you. If you chose instead to remain a soldier, you would not need to endure these trials. You would not learn the truths they guard. They would have no reason to break you. You could live here... unbothered. Just give me the word, and I can end this whole thing now."
Mikey sat there, silent. His hands trembled, his chest tight, his tears drying into his skin. He thought of the Blood Bear, he thought of Amelia's hug. He thought of Bobo and Luce's pride, of Tobi's quiet respect. He thought of his parents—everything they had fought for. Finally, he wiped his face with his sleeve, stood, and met Ryosuke's gaze head-on.
"No. I want to be with you guys. To fight beside my parents' friends, to fight for their cause. That's the whole reason I'm in this shitty dome, taking these shitty tests! It's you guys I care about... And I'll be damned if the Brass takes that away from me just because I was born a couple hundred miles in the wrong direction!" He took a few deep breaths, steadying himself, voice sharpening with conviction. "I'm not quitting. It's all or nothing. I can do this."
Ryosuke's stern mouth curved into the faintest smirk. He squeezed Mikey's shoulder, firm and approving.
"Good. I never expected you to take my offer and quit. You're a good kid, and good student. I could not be prouder."
Mikey returned his smirk with a grin of his own.
"I ain't backing down, Sensei."
"Good."
Before either could say more, the old intercom crackled above their heads, the speaker's voice slicing into the room.
"Intermission over in one hour. Phase Two will begin shortly."
Mikey's eyes lifted to the speaker, jaw tightening with determination. His body still ached, his leg was stitched, and the weight of what he'd just learned pressed on his chest—but his fire hadn't dimmed. If anything, it burned hotter. He was ready to give everything he had. But up above, Isaak had already made his choice.
And the Brass was ready to take it all anyway.