When Lili took the tray of food, she turned, scanning the tables. Her breath caught when her eyes landed on the familiar cluster of Gifted seated together. Lukas, with his quiet stare. Adam, lounging casually but alert as always. Katika, leaning over some joke, Cova, already mid-wave, eyes lighting up when she spotted Lili. Also, Notori who sat at the edge of the bench, trying to look casual, but failing. His eyes found hers across the space, and something in them tightened. Cova patted the only open seat at the table beside Notori.
Lili’s fingers clenched slightly around the tray. Her feet refused to move while her eyes held his a second longer before flicking away. With a breath, she walked toward an empty table across the room. The smile on Cova’s face faltered.
Across the room, Notori slowly stood.
Cova’s hand reached for his arm, gently pulling him back. He looked down at her. The slight shake of her head said enough for Notori to sit again. But his eyes never left Lili’s back.
Katika leaned in. “What did you do?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
He kept his eyes on Lili’s back, as if he could will her to turn and to look at him. “I told her the truth,” he said quietly, voice frayed at the edges. “How I felt.”
Katika’s eyes narrowed. “And you thought that would go well?”
“I didn’t plan it,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It just… broke out of me. I thought maybe it would matter.”
Katika exhaled frustrated. “You don’t pour fire into someone who’s still pulling arrows from their chest, Notori.”
Notori closed his eyes for a moment. “She looked at me like I was a stranger,” he said and exhaled sharply. “I wasn’t trying to push her. I just… I’ve been holding this in for so long. I thought she should know. That she deserved the truth.”
Adam leaned forward then. “You want the truth? Here’s one—sometimes love is a weight. Especially when you drop it on someone who’s barely breathing beneath their own.”
“Just great,” Notori muttered. “At least Cova doesn’t judge me.” He looked across the table at her. “After all, she actually understands what it meant seeing someone you love on the verge of dying and thinking that if you don’t speak now, you might never have the chance again.” His voice cracked.
Cova’s expression softened. “I do understand,” she said quietly. “ButI don’t agree with the decision.”
Notori opened his mouth, but no words came.
“I’m not saying you meant harm,” Cova continued carefully. “But maybe love means waiting until it’s not another wound.”
Lukas gave a faint nod. “We’re not judging you, Notori. We’re trying to make sure you don’t lose her for good. Because whatever she means to you… she’s still healing.”
Adam leaned back, folding his arms. “And you don’t help someone heal by cutting deeper.”
Notori just sat there blinking against the emotion clawing up his throat.
***
Lili walked the long corridor toward Rafael’s office. The moment she reached the door, she hesitated, fingers brushing the edge of it. With a breath she didn’t quite believe in, she knocked twice and stepped in.
She moved toward the chair before the desk and sat down with exhaustion brushing beneath her eyes. “I can see I probably won’t like what you’re about to say,” she muttered, gaze flicking between Rafael and Mike. “So don’t waste time dancing around it. Just say it.”
Rafael didn’t flinch, but there was a flicker of regret ghosting across his features. Mike said nothing, his eyes were only searching hers
“We read the report from Margherita,” Rafael said. “She mentioned your powers have acted strangely more than once while you were under her care. Is that true?”
Lili stiffened, the muscles in her shoulders tightening. “Yes,” she admitted. “Why?”
Mike leaned forward then, hands clasped together, elbows on his knees like the weight of his words was too heavy to rest on his back alone. “Because we’re not sure what it means yet,” he said carefully. “And until we understand the extent of it, we can’t be certain it’s not a risk to others.”
Lili’s breath hitched, a flash of shadow curling near her fingertips she hadn’t intended. She folded her hands in her lap quickly, forcing calm, forcing stillness, and then raised her gaze to meet Mike’s. “I know how to control my powers,” she said, her voice now edged.
Rafael’s eyes softened, but he didn’t look away. “Lili, this isn’t a question of your strength. No one doubts that. But every instability changes the rules. And we’ve seen before what can happen when control slips.”
“So what?” she snapped, though her voice had lost its bite, tapering into something quieter and fraying at the edges. “You want me to sit in a locked room until you’re satisfied I won’t go off?”
Mike exchanged a look with Rafael. Then he leaned forward. “No. We want you to go easy for a few days,” he said. “Margherita needs to run a few more tests. And… we want you to train, but in a controlled setting with someone who can push you, track how your powers respond. Someone like Notori.”
Lili’s entire body tensed at the name. Both men blinked. Rafael’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. Mike sat back, surprise flickering behind his usually unreadable expression.
“As far as we knew,” Rafael said slowly, “you trusted him the most.”
“I did,” she said. “But I think we both know things change.” Silence settled over the room for a moment. “Very well,” she added, standing up. “But it won’t be Notori. We don’t want to blow the stadium up again, do we? I think Katika will be enough of a challenge.”
Rafael nodded slowly. Mike looked like he wanted to press further, but something in Lili’s face told him that would be a mistake. “Katika it is,” he said instead.
***
Lili stood alone in the center of the stadium. On the benches above, Mike sat silently, his gaze fixed on her. She tried to breathe steady, but the nervousness kept churning inside.
The ground gave a low, grumbling shudder beneath her boots.
Black wings flared wide from her back. Then—crack. Earth split where she’d stood only seconds ago.
Lili leapt back just in time as the earth beneath her cracked open, and from the ground rose Katika with a smirk already planted on her lips.
“At least your instincts are still sharper than your decisions,” Katika said coolly, brushing a clump of dust from her shoulder as her eyes locked onto Lili’s.
Lili’s wings flared higher, anger sparking in her gut. “Excuse me?” she snapped.
Katika rolled her eyes, dragging out a theatrical sigh. “Oh, please. You’ve been ghosting everyone. The moment I heard you needed help, my first instinct was to decline.” Then she stepped closer, the smirk stretching wider, sharper. “But then I thought… No. I’ll help. By beating some sense back into her thick skull.”
Lili’s eyes narrowed. “You want to spar, Katika? Fine. But don’t pretend this is about helping.”
Katika grinned. “Oh, darling, this is entirely about helping,” she purred, fists curling with anticipation. “I just help a little… violently.”
From the benches above, Mike sighed from the exhaustion. “I’m too old for this,” he muttered.
Before another word could escape the air, Katika attacked. The ground buckled under her command and chunks of earth hurled toward Lili.
Lili shadows surged up her body, turning her silhouette obsidian-black. Each rock shattered against it without leaving a scratch.
Mike’s mouth dropped open. Mike stood almost immediately. “I want to see how long she can hold it. Throw everything you’ve got at her, Katika!”
Katika’s grin turned savage, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, with pleasure.”
Lili snapped her head toward the bench. “Seriously?” she shouted. “You want her to beat the crap out of me?!”
“Not beat, just… pressure test,” Mike replied far too casually.
“You all need therapy,” Lili growled, the black shield still wrapped tight around her as another boulder slammed into her side and crumbled like chalk.
Katika laughed. “Come on, Death Princess,” she taunted, “show me what that pretty little shield of yours can really take.”
One stone after another came hurtling toward Lili and the shield was beginning to falter flickering strangely at the edges.
Lili’s body swayed. Her knees nearly buckled under the strain. Her breath came sharp and fast, and her muscles tensed as she tried to maintain balance, but Katika pressed forward with another strike.
A larger than the rest slab cracked through the air and slammed into Lili’s chest.
Lili was thrown back and struck the far stadium wall with a dull thud, and slid down to the ground in a heap. Dust settled around her limp form, and for a moment, there was no sound. Then came the drip of the thin trail of blood which slid from her nose, down her cheek, glistening against the darkness of her shadows as they flickered, then vanished entirely.
On the benches, Mike shot to his feet again. He checked his chrono—nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds.
Down in the dust, Katika stepped cautiously closer, the fight now cooled from her limbs. She leaned over Lili’s crumpled form, her voice softer now, edged in concern beneath the bravado.
“You alive?” she asked.
Lili groaned and shifted slightly, one hand trembling as it pushed against the floor. Her voice was raspy, but alive. “Define alive…”
Katika exhaled a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “If you ever make me feel like the bad guy again, I’m throwing a mountain at you next time.”
Lili coughed, wincing. “Noted.”
Mike stepped into view, the lines of concern drawn deep across his face. “You lasted just under ten minutes. Imagine faltering like that in the middle of a real fight.”
Lili braced herself against the stadium wall, breath ragged but recovering. Her eyes locked with his in confusion. “I was only using the shield,” she said, voice hoarse but growing steadier. “It doesn’t mean the rest of my powers are weaker. You tested a single part of the arsenal.”
Mike crossed his arms. “True. But if that single part overrides your instincts and forces your body to burn through energy faster than you can command it, then it’s a liability.”
Lili flinched from the truth nestled behind his words.
“I’m not trying to cage you,” he added, softer now, “I am trying to keep you alive.”
“That’s not living,” she muttered, eyes falling to her stained fingertips. “Being kept alive. It’s… containment.”
Mike knelt slightly, enough to meet her eyes on level ground. “Then prove it’s not. Show us you can master it before it masters you. You want trust? Earn it back from the one person still doubting you the most right now.”
“Who?”
“You,” Mike said simply. “I’m not worried about you losing control in front of others, Lili. I’m worried about what happens when you start fearing what’s living inside you.”
Lili didn’t answer, but the shadows behind her stirred.
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