Zaeryn, still sprawled naked on his back, finally snapped back to reality. He was completely exposed. He made a desperate grab for the comforter pooled on the floor, yanking a corner of it over his lap. It was a flimsy defense and way too late, but it was something.

This was, officially, the most awkward moment of his (second) life. Being caught naked by a disapproving mom was bad. Being caught naked by a disapproving mom while sandwiched between her daughter and another woman was a new, uncharted territory of catastrophic.

Ingrid, however, just sighed. She slowly sat up, completely unbothered by her own nakedness, and ran a hand through her tangled yellow hair. Her pierced nipples were on full display as she stretched languidly, as if she'd just woken up from a pleasant nap.

"Mom, you're yelling," she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep. "What's the big deal? We were just sleeping."

"Sleeping?!" her mother's voice cracked. Her stormy gray eyes, identical to Ingrid's, flicked from the very obvious evidence of their 'marathon sex'. The smell in the room, the messy bed, back to Zaeryn's barely-covered lap. He was covered up now, but she had already seen him naked, and she still couldn't stop staring at his perfectly sculpted physique.

She processed the scene. Her eyes, stormy gray just like Ingrid's, remained locked on Zaeryn's groin. Her mind, clearly as sharp and analytical as her daughter's, was visibly struggling to reconcile what she was seeing with established biological fact. The silence stretched, thick and agonizing.

"Mom, you're staring. It's rude," Ingrid finally mumbled.

The sound of her daughter's voice seemed to snap the woman back to reality. "You missed your classes!" She pointed a finger, not at Ingrid, but directly at Zaeryn. "And you! Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my daughter's bed?"

Zaeryn, now sitting up with the comforter clutched to his waist, tried to find his voice. "Ma'am, I…"

"He's Zaeryn, Mom," Ingrid cut in, finally swinging her legs over the side of the bed, her bare ass turned to her mother as she searched for her clothes. "He's the new student at the Lyceum."

"The new student?" Ingrid's mother repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism. She clearly didn't believe it. "A male student? At the Lyceum? Don't be ridiculous."

This was Zaeryn's opening. He stood up, clutching the comforter around his waist like a makeshift toga. "She's telling the truth, Ma'am," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. "You can call Director Sorina at the academy to confirm it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm extremely late for class."

He didn't wait for an answer. He just strode past the woman and out of the bedroom, leaving her standing there. She watched him as he walked out.

The sound of the bedroom door hissing shut snapped the woman out of her shock. She slowly turned back to the bed, her gaze landing on her daughter and Genevieve, who was now sitting up and looking just as busted.

Zaeryn, meanwhile, didn't stop. He walked straight into the lounge, which was a disaster zone of discarded clothes. He found his uniform pants and shirt, pulling them on with frantic speed. He didn't bother with his boots, just jammed his bare feet into them and ran for the front door.

He burst out onto the landing pad just as Mireille and Arya's cruiser was setting down, its blue lights flashing.

The ride back was silent and agonizing. Mireille didn't say a word, her icy gaze fixed on the navigation controls. Arya was her usual approachable self and extra curious of course. Zaeryn didn't offer an explanation; there wasn't one that didn't sound ridiculous.

Not long after arriving at home, Zaeryn wasted no time rushing inside, his mind racing. He was hours late, but if he was fast enough, he could still make the most important class: combat training.

He hurried through the entrance hall, heading for the stairs, but Ysmeine's voice stopped him. She was by the archway to the living room, a data-slate in one hand. She shook her head as she saw him, though a warm, knowing smile played across her face.

"Well, well," she purred, her smoky eyes taking in his disheveled state and the clear walk-of-shame energy. "Looks like someone had an... eventful 'hang out.' You reek of sex, darling. I hope it was worth missing your morning classes for."

"No time, Ysmeine!" Zaeryn said, already halfway up the stairs. "I gotta shower. I'm late!"

"Don't waste too much time, Zaeryn!" she called after him, her laugh rich and amused. "You wouldn't want to keep your adoring fans at the Lyceum waiting any longer!"

Zaeryn didn't bother replying, just took the stairs, taking two steps at a time. He slammed into his room, the door hissing shut as he ripped off the rumpled uniform he'd worn all night. The fabric smelled like Ingrid's lounge, a mix of stale ale, perfume, and sex.

He jumped into the shower, the water pressure practically peeling his skin off. He had no time to enjoy it, just scrubbed frantically, his mind racing. He was hours late. He'd missed Matriarchal Law and whatever other boring lectures were scheduled, but combat class was last. He could still make it. He had to make it, especially after telling Leia he'd be there to fight her. If he skipped today, she would call him a coward for sure.

He was out in less than a minute, water dripping from his hair as he grabbed a fresh Lyceum uniform. As he dressed, he caught his reflection. He looked tired, but his eyes were bright, thrumming with the lingering energy from the night's... activities. He felt powerful, his Vitae reserves topped off.

Zaeryn ran down the stairs, boots in hand, jamming them on as he hit the entrance hall.

He burst out the front door onto the landing pad.

The cruiser was waiting, silent and imposing. Mireille and Arya were standing outside this time, not in the vehicle.

Mireille's arms were crossed, her icy-blue eyes radiating a level of disapproval that was almost physically cold.

Arya just looked surprised. "Oh, you're still going to the lyceum? At this time?"

"Yeah." Zaeryn replied.

"But you're late," Mireille stated. It wasn't an accusation; it was a cold, hard fact. "By more than 4 hours."

"I know, I know," Zaeryn said, not stopping as he headed for the cruiser's open door. "Got... held up. Let's go, I can still make the combat practical."

Mireille and Arya exchanged a look, then wordlessly followed him into the cruiser.

Meanwhile at the academy.

The bright corridors of the Lyceum were buzzing as students filtered out from their mid-morning lectures. Jyn, Yuna, and Morticia emerged from the dense crowd, Jyn already stretching with a groan.

"I swear, if Professor Anya says 'jurisprudence' one more time, I'm going to actually fall asleep on my desk," Jyn complained, running a hand through her messy crimson hair. "That was brutal."

"It was a standard review of Sector 7 legal precedents, Jyn," Morticia replied calmly. "It wasn't that bad."

"Easy for you to say, you probably find tax codes fascinating."

Yuna smiled softly. "I thought it was interesting… Hey, isn't that Meira?"

Meira and another girl, a brunette dressed in the same uniform as them, were hurrying toward them from across the concourse. Meira waved, her expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity.

"Hey!" Meira called out as she reached them. "Have any of you seen Genevieve?"

"Gen?" Jyn glanced at Morticia, who shook her head. "No. Why?"

Meira sighed, the frustration clear on her face. " We were paired for the Advanced Energy Signatures project, and she just completely ghosted the class. No comm message, nothing. We got assigned a failing grade for the day just because she didn't show."

Morticia stopped walking, her gaze sharpening. "That's unusual. Genevieve doesn't skip assignments." She looked at Jyn and Yuna. "She wasn't the only one missing."

Yuna's cheeks flushed slightly. "Zaeryn wasn't in class either."

"And neither was Ingrid," Morticia concluded, her tone thoughtful.

The four of them stood in the hallway as the implications settled. Meira whispered "All three of them…?"

Morticia's eyes went wide, then narrowed with a knowing smirk. "That's… strange, isn't it?" She tapped her chin, her mind clearly replaying the party. "When Ryla, Meira and I left last night, those three were still deep in their game of Truth or Dare. So maybe they lost track of time."

"Wait. You're kidding me," Jyn said, her voice full of disbelief. "They were still at it?" Jyn's regret only grew even more now.

Meira nodded, a slight flush rising on her cheeks at the memory of the night. "Genevieve had just taken her turn... and it was getting pretty intense. They must have played until very late".

Jyn groaned, throwing her head back in dramatic regret. "Intense? What kind of intense? What did I miss?"

"I… I don't know," Meira said, her cheeks flushing again at the memory. "We left right after my dare. But Genevieve and Ingrid were definitely… competitive for Zaeryn's attention."

"I'll bet," Jyn muttered, looking thoroughly annoyed. "They probably..."

"Hey, Ingrid!"

Meira's voice suddenly cut Jyn off, her tone a little relieved and hasty. The group turned.

Ingrid was striding down the concourse toward them, moving fast. She looked awful. Her usually perfect yellow hair was thrown into a haphazard bun, her uniform looked like it had been pulled on in a hurry, and she clutched a steaming cup of synth-kaf like a lifeline.

She didn't slow down as she approached them, clearly on a mission.

"Hey!" Ingrid replied, not even breaking her stride. She barely glanced at Meira before brushing past the group, her annoyance rolling off her in waves.

"Ingrid, wait," Meira called after her. "Do you know where Genevieve is?"

"Not really, but she should be here soon."Ingrid stopped and spun around "Can't talk," she snapped, wincing as she rubbed her temple. "My head is killing me, I'm late for class, and I really don't want to exist right now. Later." Without another word, she turned and stormed off down the hall, leaving the group staring after her.

Jyn was the first to speak, a slow, disbelieving whistle escaping her lips. "Wow. She looks... like she hasn't slept at all."

Just then, the bells rang, indicating the start of other classes. For Jyn, Morticia and Yuna in particular that was combat class. Wasting no time, they walked to the Aegis Chamber.

___

At the same time outside, the cruiser settled onto the Lyceum's landing pad, Zaeryn was out the door before it fully opened.

"Try not to get busted by your girlfriend's mom again," Mireille's dry voice called after him.

Zaeryn just waved over his shoulder without looking back, a smirk on his face as he sprinted toward the combat training wing.

He skidded into the Aegis Chamber, the doors hissing shut behind him. The class was already in session. Cadets were partnered up, scattered across the matte-gray floor, practicing the hand-to-hand drills Instructor Zelda was demonstrating on a hapless training dummy.

Heads turned. The low sound of bodies hitting mats and instructors shouting corrections faded.

"Well, well," Instructor Zelda's voice cut through the room. She stopped her demonstration, turning to face him. Her steel-gray eyes scanned him from head to toe. "Mr. Noctis. A pleasure for you to finally join us. I trust your beauty sleep was sufficient?"

A few cadets snickered, including Morticia and Jyn who found the idea of Zaeryn actually having beauty sleeps hilarious.

"Sorry, I…. had a rough morning, Instructor," Zaeryn said, trying to sound respectful.

"I'm sure you did," Zelda replied, her tone devoid of sympathy. "Since you missed the warm-up, you can partner with someone who needs a challenge." Her gaze swept the room, landing on a familiar figure. "Jyn!"

Jyn, having just defeated her opponent, walked over to him. She smiled and gave him a hug. "Hey, I thought you weren't going to show."

"I overslept." Zaeryn responded.

"Well, it's a good thing you showed up, cause Leia was ready to declare herself the winner and call you a coward."

"Really? Where is she?"

"There."

Zaeryn looked over and their eyes met.

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