When the Council finally dismissed us, the chamber doors shut behind us with a heavy thud that felt like the whole academy exhaling. None of us spoke as we walked down the long corridor.
Seris's hand brushed mine once—accidentally.
Then deliberately.
Lira stayed close enough that her shoulder touched my arm every few steps, grounding all of us with her presence.
The fracture felt drained—quiet, trembling, clinging to the emotional warmth between us like a small child hiding its face after too many unfamiliar voices.
Lira felt it instantly. "It's tired."
Seris nodded. "Everyone staring at us didn't help."
I placed a hand lightly over my chest. "It needs rest."
Lira touched my arm gently. "We all do."
A moment passed, the hall empty except for us and Halin. When she finally spoke, her voice wasn't the voice of an instructor—it was the voice of someone who cared more than rules allowed.
"You three held yourselves well," she said softly.
Seris snorted. "Held ourselves? We almost attacked the Council just for looking at him wrong."
"Exactly," Halin murmured. "Which is why we need to talk."
I tensed.
The bond followed — tightening around my ribs like a protective cocoon.
Halin raised both hands gently. "Not punishment. Not discipline. Just… necessary measures."
Lira stepped closer. "Necessary for what?"
Halin studied our joined presence for a moment, as though seeing not three people—but a single, woven shape.
"For stability," she said. "And protection."
Seris stiffened. "Whose protection? Ours or theirs?"
"Both," Halin replied honestly.
Then she pulled a folded parchment from her sleeve.
A seal cracked under her thumb.
My stomach sank.
Lira whispered, "What is that…?"
Halin held the parchment out to me.
"A decision," she said softly. "One the Council made while you were still in the room."
Seris growled, "They didn't even wait to discuss it?"
"They didn't have to," Halin answered. "This isn't punishment. It's… recognition."
I took the parchment carefully.
Halin continued, "From this day forward, the three of you—and the entity within your bond—are to be classified as a Unified Resonance Unit."
Lira blinked. "A… what?"
Halin exhaled. "A living magical phenomenon. A singular resonance. Not three students. One bonded force."
The fracture pulsed weakly—confused, overwhelmed.
Seris glared. "We're not something to classify."
"No," Halin agreed quietly. "But you are something new."
Lira leaned into my side. "What does this change?"
Halin looked at each of us, her expression gentle but firm.
"It means you will now train together… live together… undergo evaluation together. You will not be separated for any reason."
Seris froze. "Live together?"
Lira's breath hitched. "The three of us…?"
My chest tightened.
Halin nodded slowly. "The academy believes distance between you is now dangerous. The bond has grown beyond normal parameters. Keeping you apart would be irresponsible."
The fracture stirred—warm, hopeful, clinging to the idea instinctively.
Seris looked at me, searching my face.
Lira squeezed my hand, waiting for my reaction.
And for the first time since arriving at the academy, I didn't feel the need to hide.
"We stay together…" I whispered.
Lira smiled softly.
Seris's eyes softened in a way she rarely let anyone see.
"And what about the entity?" I asked.
Halin hesitated only a moment.
"It responded today when you needed it," she said. "So the academy will treat it as part of you. Not a threat. Not a parasite. A member of your unit."
Lira exhaled with visible relief.
Seris nodded fiercely. "Good."
Halin stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You must understand—this is the first time in history such a unit has existed. People will watch you. Some will fear you. Some will admire you. All will expect something."
I swallowed. "And what do you expect?"
Halin smiled—small, tired, honest.
"For you three to keep doing what you're already doing."
Her voice gentled.
"Taking care of each other."
Lira's eyes softened.
Seris looked away quickly, pretending she wasn't touched.
The fracture pulsed warmly.
Gratefully.
"We can handle this," Seris said. "Whatever the academy wants."
I nodded. "As long as we're together."
Lira whispered, "We will be."
Halin opened the door leading to the dorm wing. "Then go. Rest. You'll receive new accommodations tomorrow."
We stepped through.
The moment the door closed behind us, the bond pulsed one word—
us.
And for once, the world seemed ready to acknowledge it.
We didn't speak again until we reached the dorm level. The hallway felt strangely small now, as if the space had shrunk under the weight of everything the Council had declared us to be.
Lira walked slightly ahead, but her hand remained firmly wrapped around mine. Every few seconds, she glanced over her shoulder to make sure Seris kept up.
Seris stayed close behind me, not touching, but radiating a quiet protectiveness that warmed the bond like a steady flame.
At the end of the hall, our old room doors waited — separate, silent, suddenly meaningless.
Lira slowed to a stop.
Seris halted beside us.
I felt the fracture pulse nervously in my chest.
"They really expect us to live together," Lira whispered.
Seris crossed her arms. "Good. About time the academy made a smart decision."
"It's… a big change," Lira said softly.
Seris's expression softened. "Not a bad one."
I exhaled. "It doesn't scare you?"
Lira turned, eyes wide and earnest. "No. It… comforts me."
Seris stepped closer. "Living apart was the thing that scared me."
The bond tightened warmly at her honesty.
The fracture responded with a small pulse — shy, grateful.
Lira touched her chest. "It likes the idea."
Seris smirked. "Of course it does. It's finally getting what it wants."
"It's not demanding anything," I said. "It just… feels safer close to us."
Lira's voice gentled. "And so do we."
She wasn't wrong.
For the first time all day, the tension in my shoulders slipped away. The bond steadied, becoming calm, grounded, almost sleepy.
I glanced at my door.
My old bed.
My old loneliness.
It all felt distant — like a previous life.
Seris nudged my arm. "Don't get sentimental on us now."
Lira giggled softly.
The fracture pulsed warmth.
I smiled. "Sorry."
"Don't be," Lira whispered. "You're allowed to feel things now."
We stood there in the hallway, three people and one small consciousness inside us, all trying to understand what "home" meant from this moment forward.
Seris finally broke the silence. "Halin said they'll show us the new room tomorrow."
Her voice softened again. "But until then… we stick together."
Lira nodded. "Even if it's just sleeping nearby."
I felt something shift inside the bond — a quiet sense of settling.
Lira's hand tightened around mine. "We've been ending the day together anyway."
Seris shrugged. "Might as well make it official."
The fracture pulsed again — a gentle, sleepy echo that felt like a yawn.
"It's tired," Lira whispered.
"It can rest," Seris said firmly. "We've got it."
I swallowed. "We've got each other."
Seris put her hand on my back.
Lira leaned against my side.
And for a moment, none of us cared where we were standing.
This wasn't a hallway anymore.
It was the threshold of a new life.
A quiet future.
A shared home.
And as Lira guided us gently toward her room — the warmest of the three — and Seris followed with a protective hum in the bond, I realized something soft and overwhelming:
We were no longer three students trying to hold ourselves together.
We were one unit, one resonance, one heart.
And whatever tomorrow brought…
we would face it side by side.