But he chose to act.
Chose to use power he probably guards carefully, to support people he's known for mere hours, to contribute to survival that benefits all of us rather than simply himself.
We barely know one another.
Yet here he is.
Helping.
Caring, in his weird, broken way.
The stronger I yearn to get these trials over with—to finally unravel the Academy my parents dreamed of, to discover the truth about who they were and what they built—the more I want to fight harder to achieve that reality.
So I can learn more about him.
About all my bonded men.
At a pace that supports everyone rather than forcing connections that require more time than crises permit.
I jump from the shadowed platform.
The motion carries the particular confidence of someone who trusts themselves to survive the consequences of their actions. Air rushes past my restored form as I fall towardthe volcanic landscape below, the distance between Cassius's shadow platform and the ground covered with speed that gravity eagerly provides.
My fangs find my own wrist.
The bite is quick, practiced—opening veins that immediately begin releasing blood that carries power rather than simply sustenance. The crimson wells up with the particular richness of hybrid essence, vampire nature and Fae heritage intertwined in ways I'm only beginning to understand.
My magic ignites.
Wind responds to my call with the particular immediacy that speaks to years of practice rather than awakened potential. Air currents gather beneath my feet, creating pressure that counteracts gravity's pull, slowing my descent from plummet to controlled fall. The technique is familiar—one of the first hybrid tricks I learned, combining vampire physical capability with elemental manipulation that my magical heritage provides.
But the wind alone isn't enough.
Ice platforms appear beneath my feet.
Crystalline surfaces materialize from moisture in the air—Zeke's contribution, I realize, his magic working in concert with my descent to provide the structure my wind manipulation lacks. Each platform appears exactly where I need it, exactly when I need it, positioned with precision that speaks to either incredible calculation or intuitive understanding of my movements.
Partnership.
Actual partnership, wordless and effective.
I hop from platform to platform, each impact launching me toward the next surface with momentum that builds rather than dissipates. The volcanic landscape passes beneath me in stages—frozen lava, sealed fissures, ice that shouldn't exist inan environment this hot but persists regardless through magical force of will.
Movement catches my attention.
Professor Eternalis watches from somewhere above—her ancient form suspended through magic of her own, attention fixed on what's happening with the particular focus of someone gathering information rather than intervening. Her presence should probably concern me, but instead I find it reassuring.
Witness.
Someone who will know what happened here.
Someone who can report if we succeed or fail.
I prioritize movement over observation.
Faster.
Faster.
