A densely populated district pressed right up against the academy's flank. For a while the land value spiked, developers chased the surge, and a forest of apartment blocks rose in a hurry—cores poured, elevators framed, façades half-dressed. Then the market cooled, demand met supply, and dozens of projects stalled in their first stages. Concrete shells and hollow towers remained, alleyways knotting between them like capillaries in a dead limb. Coincidentally—or maybe inevitably—this was the same district the saber gang and the silver butterfly gang claimed as their own, banners no one could see but everyone obeyed.

Students skipped class and drifted there, drawn by the thrill of off-campus air. Under those cranes and catwalks, the gangs' gravity worked on them—kids who might have become knights dipping into small-time crime, pockets of darkness gathering under the city's larger shadow. Most would grow out of it, graduating into badges and work IDs. Some would stay, and their staying would stain the map.

Ian, Caleb, Michel, and Josh were killing time in one of the abandoned sites. Smoke pooled in the hollow floors and climbed toward the ragged orange cranes looming overhead. The cranes stood motionless, frozen mid-gesture; weather had gnawed their paint to scabs of rust—the first flaking of large things that plan to fall slowly. A creak wandered the girders and echoed down the avenue of empty floors, the tall orange towers swaying just enough to speak in their sleep.

"This sucks!" Josh remarked, nervously tapping his foot as he inserted a cigarette into his mouth and lit it. "Why did that loser have to show up!" he shouted.

Ian sat on a half-built concrete pad jutting from the wall, rebar whiskers sticking from its edge where a second floor should have grown. From up there he stared down, colder than the slab beneath him.

"Can we still call him a loser after he beat ogre?" Michel wondered.

"That ogre, what a fucking disappointment. I bet he only looks tough!" Josh shouted.

"He did beat Keith," Caleb remarked.

"So what!? Who cares about Keith?" Josh yelled, dropping his cigarette and grinding it under heel.

"Josh," Ian called out, eyes locking with a grim, level focus.

He hopped off the pad and landed hard, knees flexing, dust shivering up around his boots. He walked straight to Josh until their breaths touched the same inch of air.

"Say, can you beat Keith?" Ian asked in an aggressive manner.

"I'm not sure," Josh swallowed.

Ian stepped back a pace.

"I'll rephrase my question," he said, turning slightly. "Have you ever beaten him in sparring?"

"I have not," Josh replied.

"Then you should care," Ian calmly stated.

"What do you know!?" Josh scoffed. "You got beaten by Zeke too!" he shouted.

Ian moved back into his space, voice the same temperature but sharper. "Tell me, have you beaten me in sparring?" he asked, eyes fixed.

"N-no," Josh stuttered.

"Then shut the fuck up!" he roared, fury finally surfacing like a fin.

"Ooo romantic," Fredric remarked, emerging from the shadows. "I didn't know you guys were together."

"What are you doing here?" Ian asked.

"Me?" Fredric pointed at his own chest. "I came to bum a cigarette of you guys."

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"Buy some yourself," Caleb scoffed.

"I'm not cool like you so they won't sell me any," Fredric said, strolling up to Michel and plucking a pack of cigarettes from his pocket as if retrieving a loaned pen.

Michel jerked back, hands up, shoulders angling. "What the fuck!" he screamed out.

Fredric slid one cigarette free and set it between his lips.

Ian stepped in, planting himself squarely in front of Fredric. "You best put that back if you know what's good for you," he retorted.

"Yeah, last time you chumps tried doing something 'not so good' to me it didn't end well, did it?" Fredric smirked.

He walked back to Michel, tucked the pack neatly into the same pocket, then turned to face Ian again.

"Got a light?" Fredric asked.

Ian weighed him for a beat, then fished out a lighter and tossed it over. Fredric caught it, thumbed the wheel, drew in until the tip glowed, then flicked the flame out and lobbed the lighter back.

Fredric took a deep puff of his cigarette. Smoke coiled from his lips in a straight, silver column that drifted toward the rust-scabbed cranes above.

"So mr. tough guy." He said, blowing out smoke in a straight column. "What's your story?"

"What do you mean?" Ian asked.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be spending time with your girlfriend?!" Josh shouted.

"Ooo are you jealous?" Fredric laughed. "Come on, you can tell me, it'll be our little secret," he placed his finger in front of his lips.

"Fuck you man!" Josh yelled aggressively, pointing his finger.

"Oh, the amount of jokes I could make based on that one phrased alone," Fredric retorted. "You have no idea," he whispered while shaking his head.

"Why are you here?" Ian asked.

"Well, since you asked politely," Fredric paused. "I'm here to become friends."

"Friends?" The group questioned in unison.

"Best friends!" Fredric clarified enthusiastically.

"How is that exactly?" Ian wondered.

"Well, the enemy of my enemy is my friend," Fredric smiled.

"So, did you and Zeke get into a fight or something?" Caleb asked.

"We broke up," Fredric replied with a stern look, taking a puff of his cigarette.

"So what now?" Ian wondered.

"I'm gonna tell you how to beat him, duh!" Fredric replied.

"We're good," Ian stated, crossing his arms.

"Are you sure? If so, you guys are sure reserved, unlike him, that is," Fredric remarked.

"What do you mean?" Ian asked.

"Well ever since the bathroom incident Zeke's been telling everyone what happened. He was so proud about leaving you guys sulking in such a sorry state," Fredric explained.

"Strange, that's the first time I've heard of it," Caleb remarked, grabbing his chin.

"Didn't you ever find it strange that all of these shitty buds have been walking around confidently in the open. Violet from year two, Ben from year 3, think about it, doesn't it make sense?" Fredric asked, leaning in slightly.

"What?!" Josh shouted, "That fucker…" he groaned.

"Come on, do you want do cower before someone like him for the rest of your lives?" Fredric smirked.

Ian clenched his fist heavily, the tendons standing out like wire—an anger Fredric clocked with quiet satisfaction.

"Tell me," Ian growled.

"I knew you'd come around," Fredric smiled. "Well it's quite simple really, Zeke is really good at hand to hand combat. But have you ever seen him use magic?"

"Get on with it," Ian scoffed.

"I'll take that as a no," Fredric sighed. "The reason why never uses magic is quite simple. It's cause he can't."

"What do you mean?" Ian asked.

"Didn't you find it strange that someone as pathetic as Zeke could get a contract. Well that's only because his contract is exceptionally weak," Fredric laughed. "He's contracted to a Dullahan."

"No way," Caleb's jaw dropped.

"Are you serious!?" Josh shouted. "You lost to a Dullahan?!" he turned to face Ian.

"Well, he's still an excellent combatant," Fredric remarked. "That's why what you need to do is attack him when he doesn't expect it and use magic as he has no means of defending against it."

"That's Illegal, if we do that we'll get seriously punished!" Michel yelled.

"I doubt you will, it will be a simple slap on the wrist for a brawl between contractors. Oh, and well, I think Ian should do it alone." Fredric paused. "Tomorrow, during free period, Zeke will be in our homeroom classroom studying. Then, he surely won't expect and attack," Fredric smiled.

He walked, coming closer to Ian. The cigarette ember painted a tiny red star on the air between them.

"I'm doing this for you," Fredric whispered into his ear. "You won't let the chance of reclaiming yourself back from him."

"Just please, go and wipe this embarrassing stain of your resume," he walked past Ian and stood behind him.

"Alright," Ian replied, his eyes wide, focused in psychotic craze.

"Wait? Should we really do this?" Caleb wondered.

"You heard what he said, there is no we, only me," Ian remarked, walking away with his hands in his pockets.

"Now that that's done," Fredric yawned, dropping a cigarette butt on to the ground. "I'm out."

Josh stepped in, chest first, and fisted Fredric's collar.

"Let go," Fredric ordered with a blank stare.

"Who do you think you are?!" Josh shouted, frowning, pulling Fredric into his face.

"Can't you tell?" Fredric smirked. "I'm a seductive reptile."

"What?" Josh asked in confusion.

"Hiss," Fredric tilted his head up slightly, as a strange twisted smile took over his face.

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