You tried to protect campus when we weren’t here to do it.” I met her eyes. That’s not failure. That’s exactly what we need people to do.
Even if we nearly died?
Especially then. Because it means you’re willing to act. I paused. The problem isn’t your courage. It’s that the threat level requires more than courage. More than standard training.
She nodded slowly. The re-corruption. It’s not normal. Is it?
No. I decided to be honest. It’s something we’re still figuring out. But you bought us time to get there. That matters.
Some of the guilt eased from her expression. Thank you.
After she left, I returned to find Marigold watching me.
That was kind, she said quietly.
That was honest, I corrected. They tried. The system failed them, not the other way around.
We just needed to build something better.
Before the next crisis hit.
Later, after the healing ward had settled and the students were sleeping off the worst of the corruption effects, the four of us ended up in Keane’s suite.
We were exhausted and rattled but alive.
That was close, Elio said quietly.
Too close, Keane agreed.
Marigold was pressed against my side, her head on my shoulder. She wasn’t seeking comfort exactly—just gravitating toward solid presence after crisis.
I kept my arm around her, steady and certain.
She’d turned to me in that corridor—no hesitation, no debate. She’d shown absolute certainty when hesitation would’ve cost lives.
My role was decisiveness, enforcement, and protection.
Thank you, Marigold said against my shoulder.
Always, I said.
And meant it.
MUCH LATER, AFTER THE OTHERS had settled in for the night and I’d finally convinced Marigold to rest, I sat alone in the common area.
Ember perched nearby, his flames steady.
I’d spent months believing I was optional, one of three, easily replaced if I couldn’t learn to share.
But today had proven otherwise. She’d needed immediate, decisive action—Keane’s steadiness to keep the world from fracturing, Elio’s clarity when everything got tangled, and my absolute protection when delay would cost lives.
They needed me the same way I’d needed each of them for the things I didn’t know how to carry alone.
We were all essential.
I’d been fighting to prove I deserved to be here, but turned out I’d been necessary all along.
My phone screen still showed Parker’s message. Another site needed us, another crisis building while we caught our breath.
