The following Week

Things went back to normal. Or as normal as things could be when you were a secret hunter-in-training with a system that broke every rule in the book.

Classes. Training. Meals in the cafeteria. No demons on their tails. No midnight ambushes. Just the quiet hum of university life.

Cora was still pissed. You could see it in the way she crossed her arms a little tighter, the way she looked at Lucian like she was deciding whether to stab him or kiss him. But she was past the screaming phase. Now she just made pointed comments during team dinners and sat a little closer to him during briefings.

Progress.

Today was philosophy. Again. Lucian sat near the window, chin propped on his hand, eyes fixed on the clouds drifting past the glass. The professor’s voice faded into background noise. Something about Descartes. Something about God. Something about proving existence.

He wasn’t listening.

He was thinking about the hand he’d sent to Valentine. Whether the demon prince had received it. Whether he was angry, amused, or both. Whether the next attack would come tomorrow or next month.

"Mr. Vale."

The voice cut through his thoughts like a blade.

Lucian blinked. Turned his head slowly. Professor Elaine stood at the front of the lecture hall, arms crossed, glasses perched on her nose. She had that look. The one that said I’ve been watching you drift off for weeks and I’ve finally had enough.

"You’ve been conspicuously quiet all semester. Perhaps you’d like to share your thoughts on Descartes’ proof of God’s existence."

The class turned. Twenty or so faces, some curious, some bored, some just happy the spotlight wasn’t on them.

Lucian sighed.

He wanted to keep a low profile. On this part of his life, at least. Let the normal students think he was just another transfer kid. Let the professors grade him as average. Focus on the hunter’s life, the real life, the one that mattered.

But the question was too easy.

Three seats behind him, a girl with blonde hair and a perpetual phone in her hand raised it. The screen pointed at Lucian. Recording.

"Hey, stop that."

The voice came from behind her. A girl with dark hair and sharp eyes. Serious. The kind of person who carried a planner and used color-coded tabs.

Jenna didn’t lower the phone. "Don’t be a killjoy, Tara."

"Tara, let Jenna have her moments." A guy with blond hair and green eyes leaned across the aisle, grinning. "This is content."

"Thank you, Leo." Jenna beamed.

"Both of you are..." Tara pinched the bridge of her nose. "Urgh."

Lucian ignored them. He stood up. Slow. Easy. The chair scraped against the floor.

Professor Elaine raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Lucian looked at her. Then at the whiteboard where she’d scribbled Descartes’ meditations. Then back at her.

"Descartes starts with radical doubt. He wants to find something certain, something that can’t be doubted. So he doubts everything. His senses. His body. The external world. Even mathematics, because an evil demon could be deceiving him."

A few students scribbled notes.

"But he realizes that the very act of doubting proves he exists. Cogito, ergo sum. I think, therefore I am. That’s his foundation."

Professor Elaine nodded. "And God?"

"From there, he argues that he has an idea of a perfect, infinite being—God. But he, being imperfect and finite, couldn’t have created that idea himself. So the idea must have come from something perfect and infinite. Therefore, God exists."

Lucian paused.

"It’s circular in places. He uses God to guarantee clear and distinct perceptions, but he also uses clear and distinct perceptions to prove God. Most philosophers after him pointed that out. But for his time, it was a clever move."

The room was quiet.

Professor Elaine stared at him. Then she pushed her glasses up.

"That’s... surprisingly thorough, Mr. Vale. Have you been hiding a philosopher under that quiet exterior?"

Lucian sat back down. "I read a book once."

Jenna lowered her phone, mouth slightly open. "Dude. That was hot."

Leo snorted. Tara buried her face in her hands.

Mark, the class representative, was sitting two rows ahead. He turned around and gave Lucian a long, unreadable look. They’d met before—the cafeteria, the awkward introduction, the "text me later" dismissal. Mark hadn’t forgotten.

He whispered across the aisle. "You’re weird, Vale."

Lucian shrugged. "You’re not wrong."

Professor Elaine resumed her lecture. Lucian went back to staring at the window.

The clouds hadn’t moved.

But somewhere in the back of the room, Jenna was already uploading the video to her private story. Caption: rich transfer kid is actually a philosophy nerd???

Leo gave her a thumbs up.

Tara sighed again.

And Mark made a mental note to keep an eye on Lucian. Not because he was dangerous. But because he was interesting. And interesting people, in Mark’s experience, were always the most trouble.

The lecture ended. Students shuffled out, packing bags and stretching arms. Professor Elaine didn’t look at Lucian again. Probably for the best.

Lucian grabbed his notebook—empty, like always—and headed for the door.

"Vale. Hold up."

Leo appeared at his side, grinning like a golden retriever that just found a tennis ball. Jenna followed close behind, phone still in her hand but thankfully not recording. Tara walked beside her, arms crossed, looking like she regretted every life choice that led to this moment.

Mark brought up the rear. Quiet. Watching.

"You know," Leo said, falling into step with Lucian, "that was the most words I’ve ever heard you say. Combined. Since you got here."

"I speak when I need to."

"See, that’s what I’m talking about. Mysterious farm boy energy. Jenna, you getting this?"

Jenna waved her phone. "Off the record. Tara yelled at me."

"I didn’t yell. I expressed concern."

"You yelled."

Tara ignored her and looked at Lucian. "Where did you transfer from, anyway? The file just says ’rural Verland.’ That’s suspiciously vague."

Lucian kept walking. "It’s a small town. You wouldn’t know it."

"Try me."

"Probably not."

Tara’s eyes narrowed. She was used to getting answers. Lucian not giving them bothered her.

Leo changed the subject. "Philosophy, though. Descartes. You actually read that stuff for fun?"

"I read a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"Books."

Leo laughed. "You’re impossible."

Mark finally spoke. His voice was calm, measured. "You handled the professor well. Most people freeze when she calls on them."

Lucian glanced at him. "She’s not scary."

"She’s been teaching here for twenty years. She’s made seniors cry."

"I’m not a senior."

"That’s my point."

They walked out of the building. Sunlight hit their faces. The campus green spread out ahead, students scattered across the grass, some studying, some napping, some pretending to study.

Jenna stretched her arms. "Lunch?"

Leo nodded. "I’m starving."

Tara checked her watch. "I have fifteen minutes."

"You always have fifteen minutes," Jenna said.

"Because I plan."

"Because you’re rigid."

"I prefer ’structured.’"

Lucian looked at the group. Normal. Loud. Uncomplicated. No demons. No veils. No Night Marks. Just four students arguing about lunch.

He almost smiled.

"I’ll pass."

Leo grabbed his shoulder. "Nope. You’re coming. You’ve dodged us for weeks. Not today."

"I’m not dodging."

"You literally walked the other way when you saw us yesterday."

"I was going to the library."

"The library is in the opposite direction."

Lucian said nothing.

Tara sighed. "Just come. We don’t bite."

"Speak for yourself," Jenna said.

"Jenna."

"Kidding. Mostly."

Mark raised an eyebrow at Lucian. "You look like you could use a break." 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Lucian considered that. A break. From training. From missions. From the weight of everything. Just lunch with normal people who didn’t know about the Veil World, who didn’t look at him like a weapon or a threat.

"Fine."

Leo pumped his fist. "Yes. Social victory."

They walked toward the cafeteria. Jenna talked about a guy in her art history class. Tara complained about a group project. Leo made terrible jokes. Mark said little, but his eyes stayed on Lucian.

Lucian let the noise wash over him.

It wasn’t peace. But it was close.