Aria hooked two fingers in Kai's sleeve.
"Come on, monk. I'm starving."
She didn't wait for his answer—just dragged him down the tunnel. Kai huffed, letting himself be pulled, ribs tight under his gi.
"I just finished getting punched for twenty minutes," he said. "You know that, right?"
"Yeah," Aria said. "You burned a million calories. You owe yourself noodles."
They reached the mouth of the tunnel, hit by noise and people—fans flooding into the concourse, vendors yelling, Colos screens replaying Rin's last clash on a loop.
A couple of kids near the railing froze.
"Hey—that's them! Halo squad!"
One boy in an oversized Mason's hoodie nearly dropped the book in his hands—a thick, glossy volume with a gold sigil on the cover.
Mason's Seeker Data Book.
He held it out with both hands, eyes wide. "C-can you sign? Please?"
Aria stopped so suddenly Kai bumped into her. She blinked, then grinned. "Yeah, we can sign."
More kids turned, pens appearing as if summoned. The data book changed hands, pages flipping until a girl found the right spread.
"Kai Xander," she breathed. "He's already in here."
Kai leaned over her shoulder despite himself.
His own face—tournament shot, hood down, staff across his shoulders. Underneath: rank band, nation, a neat little bar graph.
MARTIAL: Advanced.
POWER: Low.
SPEED: Low-Mid.
MUTI CONTROL: Developing.
TACTICS/IQ: High.
NOTES: "Promising monk-type. Early favorite among Iron rookies."
Kai stared.
"...Low power? Low speed?" His eye twitched. "They wrote me like a tutorial mob."
The kids snickered; Aria laughed outright.
"They got the brain part right, at least," she said, thumbing the edge of the page. "High IQ, look at you."
Kai put a hand over his heart and did the fakest sob in history. "My pride... "
Aria flipped a few pages. "Relax. It's all second-hand. Field reports, witness statements, exam footage. Corporate stats, not gospel."
He peered again, squinting. "So it's... not accurate?"
"Not really," she said. "The Association has the real numbers."
"What was that last part?"
"Nothing." She snapped the book shut, then reopened it to another spread. "Hold up. Me."
Aria Flamehart's page: a tournament shot of her mid-laugh, Raijin coat half-zipped, hair wild. Bars higher across the board.
MARTIAL: Advanced.
POWER: High.
SPEED: Top-tier (Gold baseline).
MUTI CONTROL: Above Average.
TACTICS/IQ: Above Average.
NOTES: "Explosive lightning striker. Ceiling unknown. Watchlist for future Gold."
Aria's mouth curled. "Huh."
"Look at you," Kai said. "Top-tier speed, 'ceiling unknown.'"
She tapped the page with her pen, thoughtful. "...Needs to be higher."
Kai snorted. "Of course that's what you took from it."
She signed her name large across the bottom, then handed him the pen. "Sign, monk. You're officially real now."
He scribbled "Kai Xander" under his stats. One kid bounced on his toes.
"Thank you! You guys are gonna win the whole thing!"
Aria tousled his hair. "We're working on it."
They handed back the book and moved deeper into the concourse. The noise shifted—less roar, more clatter. Plates, voices, sizzling griddles.
The Ring Four food court opened around them like another arena.
Lines snaked from stall to stall—Vinlan smoke-huts with frost-smoked salmon skewers, Janoah grills slinging Forge Bread filled with stewed meat, Chun steam-carts venting clouds over soul-steam buns, Rajistan pots bubbling Lotus Curry Broth. Signs glowed, prices ticking in Tola.
Aria and Kai stopped simultaneously.
Their mouths dropped in sync.
"...Okay," Kai said. "I get why people come even if they don't care about the fights."
Aria's eyes shimmered as if she'd hit Tier Two again. "We don't have time for a food arc. Lila will kill us."
A body brushed Kai's shoulder as someone slipped past behind them, cutting through the crowd without really being in it. Hood up, plain coat. Nothing flashy.
The aura radiating from them was odd.
Cold in the middle of all that heat. Thin and sharp, like a hidden knife.
A low voice, just loud enough to hear.
"I hope the Black Clan boy is okay," it said. "He should've died."
Kai turned, Aria turning with him.
All they saw was a silhouette slipping into the crush, swallowed by colors, coats, noise. No face, no sigil—just the echo of that sinister presence fading.
"...You feel that?" Kai asked.
"Yeah," Aria said, jaw clenched. "Gross."
They held the moment a beat longer, as if they might chase it.
Then the smell of broth and smoke snapped Aria's focus back.
"Later," she muttered. "Mystery creep can wait. Right now—"
"Noodles," Kai finished.
They hurried into the nearest line—a Vinlan stall serving smoked salmon on rye, berry glaze skewers, and hearty noodle bowls in bone broth.
Aria leaned on the counter, eyes bright at the menu. "We're getting noodles," she declared. "No debate."
Kai's stomach growled loudly enough for both to hear. He sighed, half-smiling.
"Yeah," he said. "Noodles first. The world later."
They ordered too much, already holding steaming boxes when the Colos speakers crackled to announce the next match.
Both looked up at the same time.
Aria's grin sharpened. Lila's match was coming.
"Eat fast," she said, tilting her chin toward the tunnel.
Kai nodded, balancing three boxes in his arms. "Run and chew?"
"Run and chew," Aria agreed.
They jogged off, noodles sloshing, fans parting, the aroma of smoke and broth chasing them back toward the arena—unaware that in the crowd, that cold, sharp presence had already turned back toward the arena, watching.