The tension in the school ground thickened like a brewing storm. Mark Williamson's voice rang out, sharp and agitated, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.
"If you have someone special here, go to them! Why are you interfering in my business?" he barked, glaring at the two Doctors who had stepped between him and his target. His beast, a hulking silver-scaled hound with glowing crimson eyes, growled low at their side, sensing its master's mood.
Doctor Thomas stood firm, his silver-trimmed coat fluttering slightly in the breeze. Beside him, Doctor Luna's eyes were narrowed, cold and calculating. Neither of them flinched.
"The special someone we're talking about," Doctor Thomas said quietly but with undeniable authority, "is John."
A beat of silence passed. Then the crowd collectively inhaled.
John?Did he say John?Our John? The boy from the dorms? The same one we used to mock for being too quiet, too average?
It was as if the air had been sucked from the school ground. Eyes widened. Murmurs became whispers that raced like wildfire. John, the quiet boy everyone had overlooked or teased, was standing between two Two-Star Doctors. Not just any Doctors—respected ones, powerful ones. And they were claiming him as someone important.
John stood frozen, feeling like he had been dropped into someone else's dream. A flush crept up his neck. He wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ground, or perhaps turn invisible. The stares, the whispers—they burned.
"I… I don't understand," he muttered under his breath.
Doctor Luna stepped forward then, her boots clicking crisply on the stone pavement. There was no hesitation in her stride. No softness in her gaze. The same woman who had remained composed through a battlefield of blood and broken bones was now radiating protective fury.
Only moments earlier, she had barely believed what she had seen—John manifesting a Neuro-Core. At fifteen. It had shaken her to the core. She, who had trained hundreds of students, had never witnessed something like it. Most adults never achieved a Core of their own. But John… John had done the impossible.
And now Mark Williamson had dared to threaten him?
Doctor Luna raised a hand, not to strike, but to point—directly at Mark.
"Next time you even think about laying a hand on my brother," she said, her voice like the sharp edge of a blade dipped in frost, "think a hundred times."
The courtyard went silent again. Completely. Utterly.
Brother?Did she say brother?Since when does John have a sister?Is she lying? Is it a cover? Or is John…
All eyes shifted back to the boy in question.
John felt as if the world had tilted on its axis. Brother? The word echoed in his head. His heart pounded against his ribs like a drum. He had lived his whole life in the orphanage. Alone. No family. No connections. That had always been the truth—his truth.
And yet, Luna's voice rang with certainty. With emotion. With something deeper than mere words.
Doctor Thomas stepped closer, resting a hand gently on John's shoulder. "You were too young to remember. But you were never truly alone," he said, his voice softer now, meant only for John.
John's lips parted. He wanted to speak, to ask a thousand questions, but no sound came out.
Luna took another step toward him, her expression softening. "I've been watching over you from afar. We both have," she said, nodding toward Thomas. "It was safer that way. But not anymore. It's time you knew the truth."
Mark took a step back, stunned into silence, his beast retreating instinctively. Whatever dominance he had once held in this space had vanished like mist in the morning sun.
In that moment, John was no longer just another face in the crowd. No longer the boy from nowhere. No longer the orphan.
He was someone.
He had people.
And the world had just learned it.