The east courtyard was overgrown with glassweed and half-dead root vines, silent beneath the rusted remains of what once had been training halls.
Students didn't come here anymore. Not since the new wings were built.
The benches were cracked. The air smelled faintly of scorched soil. An old sigil, long-faded, was barely visible under the moss near the stone platform in the center — a lion, a flame, and a sword.
Peace through discipline.
Rook Vale sat on the steps, waiting.
The first to arrive was Tessa.
She stepped lightly through the trellis arch, arms folded across her chest, a dull silver ring in her hand — a relic from her mother, she once said. She always held it when she was uncertain.
"You called me here like it was urgent," she said, but not with anger.
He nodded. "Because it is."
Before she could ask what, Aya stepped in from the opposite path, hoodie low, boots crunching soft gravel.
"Oh," she said. "You didn't say we were having a group date."
Tessa's posture stiffened.
Rook stood. "I asked you both here because this doesn't work if it's just one of you."
"Work?" Tessa asked. "What doesn't work?"
Aya walked past her, sat on the steps, and leaned back like she owned the place. "Let me guess. You're forming a club. A secret one."
"No," Rook said quietly. "I'm building something that needs to survive long after I stop pretending to be a hero."
The words landed like glass breaking.
Tessa stared at him.
Aya sat up.
"You're not joking," she said. "You never are."
"No."
"What are you talking about?" Tessa asked, voice low.
He looked at her.
"I'm talking about the real world. The one you've already started seeing, whether you admit it or not. I'm talking about what the Zodiac are — what they do when no one's looking. I'm talking about the fact that we've all seen things that don't fit the speeches and smiles."
Tessa's hands tightened. "Rook…"
"You think the last mission was an exception?" he asked. "That what happened in District 6 was rare?"
"It was illegal," she said. "If we report it—"
"To who?" Aya cut in, her tone sharp. "To the same people who signed the orders?"
Tessa looked between them.
"Why now?" she asked. "Why tell us this?"
"Because I need you to choose," Rook said.
Aya was already nodding.
Tessa shook her head slowly. "Choose what?"
"To stay blind," he said, "or to help me tear it down."
Silence hung in the air like fog.
A breeze shifted the vines above.
Aya stood. "I'm in."
Tessa turned to her. "You don't even know what this is."
"I don't need to," Aya said. "I just need to know who we're fighting. And I've seen enough."
Rook didn't speak. He let them fill the silence with their convictions.
Tessa stepped forward, closer to him.
Her voice broke.
"If I do this... you have to promise me you're not becoming what they are."
He didn't lie.
"I can't promise that."
She looked at him for a long time.
Then nodded.
Once.
And that was enough.
Later, as they left through opposite paths, Aya turned back once and looked over her shoulder.
"You knew how this would go," she said.
Rook gave a small nod.
"I hoped."
"You picked this place for a reason?"
He looked at the cracked motto underfoot.
Peace through discipline.
And smiled without warmth.
"No one listens to ghosts," he said. "But they remember them."