Chapter 7: Rhythm & Rivalry


    <hr>


    The Worst Possible Timing


    Axel was sore.


    Not just "I had a hard workout" sore, but "I think I got hit by a damn truck" sore. His ribs ached, his legs felt like concrete pillars, and his arms were about as useful as overcooked noodles.


    So naturally, the last thing he wanted was to run into Jace Stroud.


    Unfortunately, life hated him.


    The moment Axel and Tempo stepped out of Rook’s training sector, still trying to shake off the brutal session, they almost collided with Jace and his goons.


    Jace looked just as untouchable as ever—his academy-issued combat jacket pristine, his posture effortless. Stratos, his Storm Wyvern, was curled lazily beside him, electricity crackling faintly across its sleek blue scales.


    And of course, Jace’s smug grin was already locked and loaded.


    “Well, well, well.” He folded his arms. “Mercer. Didn’t expect to see you around the real training facilities.”


    Axel sighed. "Hey, Jace."


    Rook, standing just behind Axel, perked up like a cat spotting a laser pointer.


    “Ohhh? This is your rival, huh?” He grinned like an absolute lunatic and clapped Axel on the back. “I like him already.”


    Axel staggered forward from the impact. “Dude. What the hell.”


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    Jace quirked an eyebrow. “And… who the hell is this?”


    Rook gasps dramatically. “You don’t know me?!”


    Axel rubbed his temples. “Jace, meet Elias Rook. My… mentor.”


    Jace blinked. Then laughed.


    “Wait. You mean the Elias Rook? The guy who got expelled for ‘excessive disregard for common sense and human decency’?”


    Rook beamed. “The one and only.”


    Jace chuckled. “Wow, Mercer. Scraping the bottom of the barrel, huh?”


    Axel was already regretting his life choices.


    <hr>


    Egging It On


    “So,” Jace said, smirking, “are you actually training in there, or just learning how to dodge paperwork for misconduct violations?”


    Axel crossed his arms. "You wanna find out?"


    Jace snorted. “Please. We both know you’re nowhere near my level.”


    Behind him, his Wyvern lifted its head, letting out a deep, electric hum.


    Tempo, still perched on Axel’s shoulder, tilted his head.


    Then he made a fart noise.


    The entire hallway went silent.


    Rook burst out laughing.


    “Oh, I like him,” Rook wheezed, pointing at Tempo. “I like him a lot.”


    Jace’s eye twitched. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”


    Axel grinned. “What’s wrong, Jace? Stratos not used to getting disrespected?”


    Stratos let out a low growl, static flickering between its fangs.


    Jace narrowed his eyes. “Keep talking, Mercer. Let’s see if you’re still cocky when you’re eating dirt.”


    Rook immediately perked up. “Oh? A challenge? I love this.”


    Axel shot him a look. “Don’t encourage him.”


    Rook ignored him completely. "I say you two should have a match. Right now."


    Axel groaned. “You’re actually the worst.”


    Jace smirked. “Fine by me.”


    Axel was about to refuse—because, realistically, there was no way he was ready to take on Jace yet—


    But then he saw Rook’s face.


    That shit-eating grin.


    That look that said, “You afraid, kid?”


    And suddenly, Axel’s pride kicked in.


    “…Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s do this.”


    Rook clapped his hands together. “Hell yeah.”


    Jace rolled his shoulders. “Don’t expect me to hold back.”


    Axel exhaled.


    He already knew he was about to get his ass kicked.


    But damn if he wasn’t gonna make it difficult.