"Rank 9, Pan Soomin."

The pink-haired girl practically floated to the podium, her movements delicate and hesitant. She still appeared somewhat dazed from her earlier transformation, her wide blue eyes slightly unfocused as though returning from some distant place.

Her small, trembling hands fidgeted nervously with the worn seashell charm dangling from her wrist—a humble talisman from her fishing village home, carried like a lifeline in this overwhelming sea of strangers and expectations.

"The Verdant Strikers value your potential, Soomin-san," Professor Mori said warmly. "Your Aspect has remarkable applications for team support and synchronized combat maneuvers."

"The Cobalt Vipers see great things in your future," Valentine added with a sharp-toothed smile that never quite reached his calculating eyes. He leaned forward slightly, his platinum blonde hair catching the light. "Such raw potential deserves... careful cultivation."

Soomin didn't even glance their way. Her ocean-blue eyes had already found Satori in the growing Onyx Hounds section, lingering there momentarily before shifting to Braxton Miller. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she gave him a tiny, shy bow, shoulders hunched as though trying to make herself even smaller.

"O-Onyx Hounds, please," she whispered, her voice so soft it barely carried beyond the podium.

"Of course it is," Miller sighed.

"Rank 15, Juan Navarro."

The lazy-eyed boy slouched to the podium with the unhurried gait of someone who found the entire process tedious. His half-lidded eyes scanned the room with deceptive disinterest, though those paying close attention might notice how they paused to assess key figures before moving on.

"The Cobalt Vipers value your analytical mind," Valentine offered, his voice a silken invitation. "Your pattern recognition abilities would flourish under proper guidance."

"The Verdant Strikers appreciate your tactical acumen," Mori added, leaning forward with genuine enthusiasm. "You would make an excellent field coordinator."

Juan yawned expansively, not bothering to cover his mouth. He glanced at the growing Onyx Hounds section, noting its increasingly eclectic composition, then at Braxton Miller, who was already slumping back in his chair, synth-cigarette dangling unlit from his lips.

"The path of least resistance is often the most logical," Juan drawled, his voice carrying an unexpected sharpness beneath its languid tone. "Onyx Hounds."

Braxton groaned audibly.

"Rank 22, Noah Gray."

A slender figure with short blonde hair and sharp, attentive amber eyes approached the podium. Despite wearing the male uniform, Noah's feminine features were unmistakable, though the military bearing and rigid posture seemed designed to divert attention from them.

Noah's laser-focused gaze never wavered from Anya Petrova, body language displaying the perfect military stance of a soldier awaiting orders.

"The Verdant Strikers would welcome your defensive capabilities," Mori offered with a curious tilt of her head. "Your Kinetic Weave Aspect has remarkable applications for front-line protection."

"The Cobalt Vipers see potential in your strategic mind," Valentine added, fingers steepled before him. "Such dedication to perfection deserves... proper nurturing."

Noah barely acknowledged either offer with the slightest tightening of already rigid shoulders. The hall grew quiet as everyone waited for what seemed inevitable—Petrova's invitation to the Argent Sentinels.

Come on, I need to be with Miss Vance!

It never came.

Braxton Miller let out a long, weary sigh. He straightened slightly in his chair, meeting Noah's shattered gaze. "Looks like you need a place to land, soldier. We've got a spot for you with the rest of the discarded. Onyx Hounds."

Noah hesitated, the internal struggle visibly raging behind those amber eyes. Pride warred with desperation, ambition with necessity. Then came a stiff, formal nod, military training reasserting itself over emotional turmoil. "Affirmative."

Noah joined the Onyx Hounds, standing slightly apart from the others, back ramrod straight—a perfect soldier among rebels, an elite weapon now collecting dust with the cast-offs and broken toys.

"Rank 26, Emi Aoyama."

The blue-haired girl practically skipped to the podium, her face bright despite the tension in the hall.

"The Verdant Strikers would greatly benefit from your healing abilities," Mori said with genuine warmth. "Your support capabilities would flourish among our teams."

Emi smiled politely, but her eyes had already drifted to where Satori and Natalia stood. "Thank you, Professor, but I've already decided! Onyx Hounds!" she chirped.

"Ranks 30 and 31, Akari and Hikari Miyamoto."

The twins moved as one entity to the podium, drawing admiring gazes. Identical in face but opposite in manner – Akari's walk a deliberate seduction, Hikari's a barely contained burst of energy.

The guilds presented their offers, but the twins were barely listening. They whispered to each other, a private conference that ended with identical nods.

Akari stepped forward, a predatory smile curving her lips. Her emerald eyes locked on Satori. "We choose the Onyx Hounds."

The twins joined the growing collection of misfits, flanking Satori like lionesses who'd found an interesting new playmate.

"Rank 38, Jacob Williams."

The nervous boy with glasses shuffled to the podium, clutching his datapad like a shield. Sweat beaded his forehead.

"The Verdant Strikers see value in your analytical abilities," Mori offered kindly.

Jacob's eyes darted frantically around the hall until they found Satori, who gave him a single, almost imperceptible nod. Jacob's shoulders relaxed a fraction.

"O-Onyx H-Hounds!" he stammered, nearly dropping his datapad in relief.

The draft continued. Two more names were called—Malachi Moore, a tall boy with dark skin and quiet intensity, and Marco Diaz, a cheerful prospect with a sun-bright smile. Both chose Onyx Hounds without hesitation.

And then it was over.

Braxton Miller looked down at the list in his hands, then at the twelve prospects now standing together under the Onyx Hounds banner. It was impossible. Unprecedented. The #1, #3, #5, #7, #9, and a half-dozen other top-50 prospects. His guild, historically the dumping ground for problem cases, was now, on paper, the most powerful student guild in NVA history.

He buried his face in his hands with a groan that echoed through the hall.

No one in the Grand Hall—not the furious professors, not the jealous prospects, not even Headmaster Luna himself—truly understood what they were witnessing. They thought they were watching an act of academic rebellion. An amusing historical upset.

They had no way of knowing they were watching the birth of something far more significant. The first gathering of twelve misfits who would one day be known to the world not as hounds, but as the Sovereigns.

And at their center, the puppetmaster, the Stray Dog himself, Satori Nakano looked out at the shocked faces of New Vein Academy…

And smiled.

===

END OF VOLUME 2: Iron In The Fire

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