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Felix turned and looked at me, his chest heaved, sweat dripped from his chin, and his eyes were bright, manic with the rush of it. He threw his head back and let out a roar, a raw sound of triumph that tore through the polite atmosphere of the Academy.

I didn’t think. I didn’t plan. The adrenaline hit me like an overdose.

I sprinted at him.

Felix saw me coming and braced, opening his arms wide. “LEANDER,” he bellowed.

I launched myself into him. We collided at full speed, neither of us willing to brake, my chest slamming into his hard enough to knock the wind out of him, but he held his ground. He caught me, arms wrapping around my neck as I lifted him off his feet, and we spun, locked together in a tangle of limbs and sweat.

“Fuck yes!” I screamed, the sound tearing at my throat. “YESSSSS!”

Felix was laughing, wild, clinging to me, fingers digging into my shoulders, shaking me. We were a knot of heat in the center of the field, vibrating with the sheer joy of destruction. For a moment we were monsters who had just eaten the world.

I slid him down until his cleats hit the turf, but I didn’t let go. I kept my hands on his waist, gripping the fabric of his uniform, anchoring him, and somewhere under the noise, the oldest grudge in this partnership quietly let go.

Felix looked up at me, wrecked, beautiful, hair plastered to his forehead, chest heaving against mine. The manic laughter faded and left his lips parted, the blue of his eyes thinned to a burning ring.

The noise of the stadium dropped away until all that registered was the heavy thud of our hearts syncing up through two soaked jerseys, and the celebration curdled into something darker.

I slid my hand up his spine to the back of his neck. My thumb pressed hard into the pulse point fluttering against his skin, and I forced his chin up, locking him in.

“Good boy,” I whispered in his ear.

Felix shuddered when the adrenaline crashed into the praise, his knees buckled slightly, and he leaned into my hand, surrendering to the claim right there in front of everyone.

“Again!” Coach Gallus yelled, his voice cracking with excitement. “Reset! Run it again!”

Felix stepped back, dragging air, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist, and for a few long seconds the field was allowed to be just a field again. Drones resettling onto their marks. Defenders picking themselves up and not meeting anyone’s eyes. The ordinary machinery of a training morning grinding back into position while my pulse climbed down out of the red.

Then a siren blasted across the field. The Ranking Alert.

The massive screens above the stands flickered. The red GOAL text vanished, replaced by a scrolling feed of data.

ALGORITHM UPDATE.

SYMBIOSIS BONUS APPLIED.

Felix turned to look at the board. His face filled the screen first.

ASSET: CENTO.

RANK: #1.

COMPLIANCE: 99.9%.

He had regained his lost percentage, every point the sabotage had cost him bought back in a single drill. On paper he was perfect again. The system had forgiven him. Then the screen shifted.

ASSET: REGILLEN.

PREVIOUS RANK: 48.

CURRENT RANK: 9.

The entire squad went dead silent. Even Coach Gallus stopped chewing his gum.

Rank 9. I had jumped thirty-nine spots. I had cracked the single digits, which made me Tier 1, which made me, by the Academy’s own theology, one of the gods.

“Single digits,” Felix whispered, looking at me instead of the board. There was a strange light in his eyes. “You’re a Tier 1 Asset now.”