Chapter 101 | The Crash Test Dummy and the Unfinished Promise

Friday morning hit like one of Naomi’s Wave Motion blasts to the skull.

Five-thirty. Still dark. My body screamed about injustice.

I rolled out of bed anyway.

The system timer glowed in the corner of my vision. Five days, eighteen hours. Not great. Not terrible. Sustainable if I kept the extraction network running smoothly.

Big if.

I threw on gym clothes and headed to the east field. Misato’s text from last night had been crystal clear.

5:45 AM. Final prep before the gate. Don’t be late or you’re doing the run in your boxers.

Charming.

The field sat empty when I arrived. Just grass wet with morning dew and ocean wind cutting through my hoodie.

My wrists still had faint marks from the ropes. I tugged my sleeves down.

Footsteps behind me.

"You actually showed up."

I turned. Belle stood there in black compression gear, her light blue hair pulled back tight. Her amber eyes fixed on my face with the same calculating stare she’d given the chicken salad sandwiches. Assessing value. Running numbers.

"Wouldn’t miss it," I said.

"Right." She crossed her arms. The movement pulled her sports bra tighter across her chest. I kept my eyes on her face through sheer willpower. "Where’d you disappear to last night? Misato said emergency meeting but you never showed."

"Got delayed."

"By what?"

"Long story."

"I’ve got time."

Her tone suggested she didn’t believe a single word coming out of my mouth anymore. Fair.

Naomi appeared from the path near Building C. Pink and black hair caught the first hints of sunrise. She wore the same athletic shorts from Tuesday night. Her pink eyes landed on me, then slid away to Belle like I was furniture.

That hurt more than Misato’s surprise kidnapping.

Jordan stumbled onto the field last, looking like death animated through dark magic and spite. His grey eyes were bloodshot. His hoodie was inside out again. He made it three steps before sitting directly on the grass.

"I hate everything," he announced to the sky.

"Get up." Misato’s voice cut through the morning. She jogged toward us from the arena direction, already moving like she’d been awake for hours. Probably had been. Her lime green ponytail bounced with each stride. "Line formation. Now."

We shuffled into position. Belle on the left, then Naomi, me in the middle, Jordan on the right, Misato at the front.

"Today’s the gate run," Misato started. No preamble. Just facts. "We enter at 0900. E-rank scenario. Standard clear protocol. Hollow Crawlers confirmed as primary hostiles."

"How many?" Belle asked.

"Unknown until entry. Could be eight. Could be thirty." Misato’s expression stayed flat. "Doesn’t matter. We clear them all or we fail."

"Cool. Love surprises." Jordan’s voice came muffled from where he’d laid back down on the grass. "Wake me when it’s over."

Misato’s clone materialized and kicked him.

Jordan yelped. Sat up. Glared at the clone with the hatred of a thousand suns.

"Formation drills first. Then weapons check. Then breakfast." Misato pointed at me specifically. "You’re still the weakest link. That means you stay center formation at all times. If you break formation to be a hero, you die. Understood?"

"Crystal."

"Good." She gestured at the field. "Diamond formation. Move."

We spread out. Naomi took point without looking at me once. Belle moved left flank. Jordan right. I stayed center rear with my metaphorical target painted on my back.

"Crawlers come in waves," Misato called out. "First wave tests you. Second wave adapts. Third wave tries to flank. Belle, what’s your job?"

"Call out positions." Belle’s voice came clipped. Professional. "Keep tracking active. Don’t die stupidly."

"Naomi?"

"Primary damage. Conserve stamina. Don’t waste shots on trash when saves matter."

Naomi’s tone matched Belle’s. Cold efficiency.

Misato looked at me.

"Get carried," I said. "Try not to embarrass everyone."

"Wrong." Misato walked closer. Stopped two feet away. "Your job is survive. You’re the bait that tells us where they’re coming from. When they target you, we know their priority. When they chase you, we know their speed. When they try to kill you, we counter."

"So I’m the crash test dummy."

"You’re intelligence gathering." She tapped my chest once. "Stay alive long enough for us to use the data."

Romantic.

Belle snorted.

Naomi said nothing.

Jordan muttered something about preferring his own role as professional napper.

We ran formation drills for twenty minutes. Moving together through imaginary combat. Calling positions. Adjusting spacing based on enemy behavior Misato simulated through her clones.

By minute fifteen I could feel the choreography clicking. The muscle memory building. The way Belle’s detection worked with Jordan’s shadows worked with Naomi’s blasts worked with me not dying long enough to provide target information.

We weren’t good.

But we were getting functional.

"Break," Misato called. "Five minutes. Hydrate."

I grabbed my water bottle. Drained half of it.

Belle stood near the field edge, checking her phone. Naomi stretched her hamstrings, back turned to me deliberately.

Jordan laid flat on the grass again. Probably asleep already.

I walked over to Belle.

"About Wednesday night—"

"Don’t."

"I should’ve told you everything upfront. The full process. What actually triggers the buff." I kept my voice low. "I was distracted. Made promises I didn’t keep. That’s on me."

Belle finally looked at me. Her amber eyes held something complicated. Anger mixed with calculation mixed with something softer underneath.

"You’re not sorry you did it," she said. "You’re sorry I’m mad."

"I’m sorry I lied. Through omission. That counts."

"Does it?"

"Look." I ran my hand through my hair. Still too long. Still needed a cut. "I need your Treasure Sense working at full capacity today. Which means I need you not actively wanting me dead while we’re in that gate."

"My ability doesn’t work like Naomi’s. Your magic milk didn’t do shit for my range."

"Because I didn’t finish what I started."

Her cheeks went pink. Just slightly. "You said that part was necessary for the buff."

"It is."

"Then we didn’t complete the session." She turned back to her phone. "So you got yours and I got played."

"That’s fair." I stepped closer. Lowered my voice even more. "But I’m offering to finish what we started. After the gate. Tonight. Properly this time."

Belle’s fingers stopped moving on her screen.

"Why would I trust that?" She didn’t look at me. "You already proved you prioritize your needs over your promises."

"Because I’m being honest now. And because you still want that buff." I watched her profile. The way her jaw tightened. "You’re terrified of monsters targeting you because you’re weak in combat. That fear’s been eating you since orientation."

"Don’t psychoanalyze me."

"I’m not. I’m stating facts." I shifted my weight. "Take the offer or don’t. But if you want the buff for the next gate run, you know where to find me."

She finally looked at me fully. Her expression stayed carefully neutral but her eyes gave away the internal war happening behind them.

"I’ll think about it," she said.