# City Five - **Timeline:** Pre-Rewind - **In-Story Date:** 2055-2056 - **Perspective:** Valaciel --- Jacob kept his word. The commander of Division 5 did not dump Val into the outer slums where mortal promotions usually rotted. Jacob used his authority to sign for a modest room in the middle ring, secured standard rations, and walked him straight through the front gates of the City 5 academy. The welcome took less than an hour to turn sharp. The slurs began before the morning bell, older students shouting filthy hybrid and mortal scrap across the landing. In the corridors, pure angel students gave him a wide berth before shoulder checks sent his balance skittering against the stone pillars. Instructors looked directly over his head during roll call, their eyes sliding past him as if the seat were vacant. When three older students shoved him down the rear stairwell during the second week, the proctor at the landing turned around and examined the molding on the opposite wall. Val picked up his papers in the dust, wiped the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, and learned that promotion had not rescued him from being less. Three months in, the cost stopped landing on Val alone. He stood near the perimeter colonnade after dismissal and heard the laughter before he saw the uniforms. Two division captains were leaning against the balustrade, smirking as Jacob crossed the courtyard below. They tossed sarcastic remarks about the commander running a stray rescue for dead mortals, loud enough for half the square to hear. Jacob kept his gaze forward, but his knuckles were white where he gripped his dispatch folder. Val waited behind the district pillar until dusk. When Jacob arrived with fresh linen wraps and a parcel of clean bread, Val kept his hands at his sides. "Please," Val said. His voice was flat, working hard to keep the tremor out of his throat. "Stay away from me." Jacob stopped three paces away. The parcel stayed in his hand. His jaw tightened so hard the muscle jumped beneath the skin. "You do not have to handle them alone, Val." "Sneers are already landing on you because you signed for me once," Val said. "If you keep coming here, it gets worse for both of us. Please. Stay away." Jacob wanted to argue. Val saw the fury in his eyes, the desperate impulse to pull rank and shield the mortal he had brought across the veil. But Jacob looked at Val's bruised jaw and the stubborn set of his shoulders, and he understood. Jacob gritted his teeth, tucked the parcel into his cloak, and nodded once. "If you ever need an exit," Jacob muttered. "I won't," Val lied. Jacob turned and walked into the dark. Val returned to his room in the common ring alone. He told himself he was protecting the only angel who had ever shown him kindness. The isolation was his own choice, and he wore it like armor because he had nothing else. --- The fourteen months that followed ground him down bone by bone. Val lived on cold water and the meager grain allowance assigned to non-combat dependents. His academy tunic frayed at the cuffs and hem, held together by coarse thread he pulled from the hem of his mattress. Wings did not grow for an angel until they reached Messenger rank, leaving his back completely bare, an obvious mark of his mortal origins that every pure angel in the district seized upon. On one point of Divinity and a mortal body foundation, fractures took weeks to knit and bruises lingered for months. He spent every break period in forgotten corners, sitting on the flagstones with his knees drawn up, reading discarded texts on basic scripture and spatial theory. He did not possess the mana sense to mold a spell, but the books kept his eyes busy. When classmates knocked his stack into the decorative fountain or shoved his head against the desktop, he took the hit, kept his mouth shut, and waited for them to get bored. Sixty-one years of mortal failure had taught him how to outlast people who wanted him to scream. --- The City 2 delegation arrived in the spring for the inter-school tournament. Silver banners lined the main avenue, and high-ranking guests from the northern district filled the academy galleries. Lateresa walked the grounds alongside Jacob, flanked by the formal escort of Division 2. She had four wings tucked tight against her shoulder blades, snow-white hair that caught the bright sky, and an unreadable, sculpted symmetry that made the surrounding architecture look clumsy. She observed the courtyards with detached curiosity, evaluating the discipline of the host school. In a recessed archway near the west lawn, Lateresa saw an angel sitting alone on the flagstones. His back pressed flat against the masonry. His knees were pulled to his chest, and his head stayed down over a thick, dog-eared volume. His clothes were worn and roughed up at the elbows, the hem of his trousers scuffed with dark grit, his shoulders hunched beneath the frayed tunic without a single wing to mark him as celestial. He turned a page without glancing up. He did not notice her. Lateresa paused for half a beat, filed the sight away, and continued along the path. Later that morning, she passed the upper lecture wing with Jacob at her side. A burst of spiteful laughter cut through the open transom of a classroom. Lateresa stopped by the doorway and looked inside. The same roughed-up angel was sitting at a desk near the back wall. Two male students and a female student crowded over him, boxing him into the corner. One boy shoved his shoulder hard against the backrest while the other swept an open notebook onto the floor, kicking the pages apart. The female student leaned down, sneered into his face, and spat directly onto his tunic collar. Val did not flinch. He kept his hands flat on the desk, jaw rigid, eyes fixed on the wood grain. Lateresa caught Jacob's arm. "What is this?" Jacob froze. His gaze landed on Val, and the color drained from his face. His fingers twitched toward his scabbard before he caught himself. He stepped directly between Lateresa and the open door, blocking her view, and forced an easy smile that cracked at the corners. "They're just playing," Jacob said quickly, guiding her down the corridor with urgent pressure against her shoulder. "Students get restless before tournament brackets. Come, the opening match begins shortly." Lateresa pulled her arm free, her golden eyes narrowing at his hurried step, but she did not press the point. She allowed him to lead her toward the main stadium. --- The tournament boards updated in the gathering hall half an hour before noon. Whether by a lottery error or a cruel prank by the student council, Valaciel's name appeared in the opening round against an upperclassman herald-track. Val saw the plaque, turned around in the hallway to collect his training gear, and walked straight into a wall of five classmates. "You really think you're walking out there?" the lead boy said, his voice dropping into a harsh rasp. "A filthy hybrid wearing City 5 colors in front of Division 2?" Val backed away, but two hands grabbed his collar from behind. They slammed him spine-first into the corridor wall. A heavy leg swept his feet out. Val hit the polished floor hard, his breath exploding from his lungs. Before he could push up, a heavy boot came down across his right forearm with sickening force. The crack echoed off the vaulted ceiling. Agony tore through his arm, bright and blinding. Val opened his mouth to scream, but a heel slammed into his ribs, driving the air from his chest. Boots and fists rained down on his stomach, his back, and his shoulders, bruising muscle and driving his bare shoulder blades hard against the stone. Blood sprayed across the white floor tiles, pooling around his face. His vision fragmented into gray static, the shouting voices stretching into muffled echoes, until his forehead hit the stone and everything went dark. They kicked his limp body aside into the wall and walked away. Inside the arena, the brass horn sounded for match four. "Valaciel of City Five," the announcer called across the sand. "Report to the staging gate." The gate stayed closed. The opposite student waited with his wooden blade lowered. The announcer called the name a second time, then a third, and the crowd began to murmur. In the observation box, Lateresa watched the empty gate. A frown pulled at her brow. She pushed back her chair and stood up. Jacob looked up from the rail. "Where are you going?" "Too loud in here," Lateresa said, not meeting his eyes. "I am going to take a breather." --- She left the pavilion and walked into the quiet corridors of the west wing, following the faint scent of copper in the still air. She rounded the corner near the empty classrooms and stopped. The wingless boy from the desk lay face down in a dark pool of blood. His tunic was shredded and soaked red, his shoulders slumped against the cold tile. His right forearm was broken completely through, the jagged edge of bone tenting the skin in a terrible purple swell. Horror tightened in her chest. Lateresa rushed forward and dropped to her knees on the bloody stone, ignoring the crimson that seeped into the clean fabric of her skirt. She turned him over carefully. His head rolled back against her arm. His face was pale as chalk, his lips split, and his breathing rattled with a shallow, broken wheeze. Lateresa did not specialize in healing magic, but every ArchAngel knew field triage. She pressed both hands over his shattered arm and chest, channeling her divine light. A soft, golden flare spilled from her fingers. The magic was basic first-aid, but the density of her four-wing energy forced the torn blood vessels to close. The hemorrhaging slowed, the torn muscle fibers knit enough to hold, and the splintered bone settled back into alignment, keeping him from dying of shock on the floor. Through the warmth of the spell, Val's eyelids fluttered. The pain receded just enough for his mind to claw toward the surface. His vision cleared through a haze of red light. Above him, framed against the vaulted ceiling and four immaculate white wings, was the most striking face he had ever seen. Symmetrical features so precise they looked designed by a celestial artisan, alabaster skin, and silver-white hair falling past her shoulders. The sight struck him with breathless awe, so vast and sudden that his throat locked completely. Lateresa looked down into his eyes, her expression taut and troubled. Val tried to form a word, but the relief and exhaustion hit him all at once, and his head fell back into the dark. Lateresa waited until his chest rose in a steady rhythm. She scooped him into her arms, ignoring the blood that smeared across her shoulder, and carried him through the rear exits straight to the academy infirmary. She laid him on an examination cot and ordered the nurse to splint the bone properly. Stepping into the adjoining anteroom, Lateresa spoke into the quiet space. "June." Her head maid stepped out from the corridor shadows, bowing with smooth precision. "My Lady." "Look into that boy," Lateresa commanded, her voice cold and level. "Find out who enrolled him, where he came from, and why he was left to bleed out in the hallway." "At once," June said, and turned on her heel.