DETENTION PART 2

I wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes. But when I came back—the shop was in the middle of a robbery.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered.

Cora was finishing off three thugs when one of them staggered back up, cudgel raised to smash her from behind. I lunged, grabbed his wrist, twisted, and slammed him face-first into a display. The shelves rattled dangerously.

And then I saw which I presume to be their leader.

A wide-brimmed hat tilted low. Smoke curled from a cigar clamped between his teeth. A cane balanced lazily in one hand.

“I don’t know what’s worse,” he drawled, smoke trailing from his lips, “hiring idiots… or them get dropped by kids.”

“Hey,” I snapped, “we’re teens.”

“Even worse.” His hand dipped into his coat. A small iron sphere gleamed between his fingers.

A grenade.

“Time to test out my little experiment,” he said, flicking it toward the floor.

Instinct roared through me. I grabbed Cora and the shopkeeper, dragging them with me as my gift took hold. The world warped—glass bending, light stretching—before we burst out of the shop mirror and tumbled into the alley outside.

The blast rocked the street behind us. My chest heaved, heart hammering.

“Can’t believe that actually worked.” he said while stepping outside

Cora staggered up, fury blazing in her eyes. “We need to take him down before he hurts anyone else.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.”

We charged back in together.

The leader was waiting. His cane snapped out like lightning, striking faster than either of us could track. Every swing was brutal but precise—knocking Cora into a wall, slamming against my guard, forcing me back step by step. Two against one, and he was still in control.

Cora pushed in again—only for him to hook her leg with the cane and sweep her flat on her back. She didn’t get up.

That left just me.

My grip tightened on my weapon. Sparks flared as blade met cane, each clash ringing in my bones. He pressed forward, relentless, until my arms burned and my knees threatened to buckle.

But I didn’t let go.

With a roar, I drove him back—one wild strike tearing his coat, another knocking the cigar from his lips. For a moment, victory burned in my chest.

Then he smirked, eyes flashing, and shifted his stance. In an instant, the tide turned. His cane cracked across my ribs, sending me crashing to the floor, gasping for air.

By the time I pushed myself up, he was already climbing the fire escape, boots clanging against the rungs. I staggered after him, dragging breath into my lungs.

We burst onto the rooftop, city lights stretching out around us. He stood at the edge, hat brim shadowing his face.

“Persistent, aren’t you,” he said.

“Takes one to know one,” I growled.

I charged. He sidestepped, slammed the cane into my gut, and sent me sprawling across the concrete. My vision swam.

A low thrum filled the air. A helicopter rose up from the shadows, hatch opening wide.

He tipped his hat. “Looks like my ride’s here. It’s been fun, kid.”

He gave a mocking salute with his cane. “Ta-ta.”

The helicopter lifted into the night, the wind from its engines whipping across the rooftop. I stood there, chest heaving, cane bruises burning across my body—watching him vanish into the sky.

Four weeks later.

Not much happened since my fight with the leader of that robbery—now I knew his name from the papers: Silas Crowe. A small-time weapons dealer from Atlas, dangerous but nowhere near the level of terrorists like the Silver Claws. Luckily, Headmaster Orion hadn’t punished me. He’d written it off as coincidence.

And so, here we were.

Cleaning up a town square after the Luminara Fair—a lantern festival held every year to honor ancestors and guide luck for the coming seasons. Lanterns had floated like fireflies across the river just hours ago. Now, soggy paper and stray ash littered the streets.

Lyra stood at the edge of the plaza guiding the winds into controlled sweeps. Ash and stray lantern paper lifted from the cobblestones, gathering neatly into glowing piles.

Jeanne hauled crates onto a cart two at a time, her grin widening every time wood slammed into place. “Easy work!” she crowed, spinning another stack onto her shoulder.

Meanwhile, Taiga conjured storm clouds overhead, miniature whirlwinds darting through the stalls. Bits of paper and ribbons whistled through the air, spiraling straight into collection barrels that I was holding. He grinned the whole time, lightning sparking harmlessly around his arms as if he were conducting an orchestra..

It was the last day of detention. Spirits were higher than usual.

Mira carried bundles of paper into neat stacks. “This is nothing compared to what’s coming,” she said cheerfully. “The Astralis Tournament will make the Luminara cleanup look like a picnic.”

I look at Evelyn who hasn't lifted a finger beyond pointing all afternoon. “Hey Princess, it would be quicker if you help”

Evelyn crossed her arms. “Manual labor is beneath me.” She kicked a broken lantern stand into a gutter. “See? I’m helping.”

“Even in another world I keep finding jerks.”

Before things could escalate further, Mira appeared, balancing an armful of lantern poles. “Why don’t we help take down the stalls instead? It’ll go faster if we divide the work.”

Evelyn’s lips pressed thin, but she finally relented with a haughty, “Fine. But only because I refuse to be punished further if you three slack off.”

Some of the festival workers perked up when Evelyn approached, calling her over with eager smiles. “Miss Crystalis? An honor! You’d be far better company than—” one of them glanced at Mira, “…a critter.”

The word hit sharp. Mira’s ears twitched, but she only smiled tightly. Lyra’s hand curled into a fist at her side. Jeanne’s jaw clenched. But Mira met Lyra’s eyes and shook her head gently. Not worth it.

We returned to work in heavy silence. That’s when Taiga froze, squinting at a toppled trash bin.

“Uh… guys? Is it me, or is there an arm sticking out of that?”

We all spun. Sure enough, pale fingers dangled limply from the heap of refuse. Jeanne was the first to sprint over, hauling the body free with a grunt.

Out tumbled a bubbly, ginger-haired boy with the brightest grin I’d ever seen.

“Salutations!” he chirped, as though he hadn’t just been pulled from a garbage can. “Theodore Wren—call me Theo!”

Lyra blinked. “…You were in the trash.”

“Yes!” Theo said cheerfully. “I was curious about the festival grounds, but then there was this strange localized wind event, and… well…” He brushed a banana peel off his shoulder with zero shame. “Here I am!”

“Yeah, that's actually tracks.” I said while looking at Taiga who was scratching his head.

Before we could ask more, Evelyn strode back from the scaffolding, brushing dust off her immaculate uniform. “Ugh. Ruffians, a lot of them. Clumsy, unwashed… worse than Avalon’s temper.” She stopped short at the sight of Theo. “And who, pray tell, is this?”

“Theo!” he repeated brightly, thrusting out both arms as if expecting applause.

To everyone’s shock, Evelyn actually stepped back from the enthusiastic greeting.

Theo offered to help, and to our surprise, he was ridiculously efficient. He hauled two bins at once, darted around faster than Jeanne, and had the square looking spotless in half the time.

Unfortunately, his boundless energy got the better of him. In his haste to dump a bin, he slipped—and sent a cascade of refuse all over Evelyn’s pristine coat.

Evelyn’s eye twitched. “…I’m done.” She spun on her heel and stalked off toward the Institute.

“You ok in my book, Theo” I said.

“I don’t quite understand but thank you!” he said, still grinning.

When the work was finally done, Mira clapped her hands. “Well, that’s the end of detention. You’ve all done well.”

Relief washed over us.

But as we headed back toward the helipad, we passed a storefront surrounded by guards. The windows had been shattered, displays ransacked. Another Aetherune shop.

My chest tightened. The name Silas Crowe flickered in my mind.