After Dahni left, Garran headed straight to the dome where all the Dominar students had been evacuated. Inside, Rhosyn and Allete were busy healing a few students who had suffered minor burns and wounds from falling debris and fire. Ezren, Davor, and even Seren had rushed to the dome to help check on everyone's condition—not just physically, but mentally as well.
Davor straightened up, glancing down at the ring awkwardly sitting on his pinky finger. It was far too small for him.
"This one?" he replied with a clueless grin, clearly unaware that the ring was the cause of everything.
"Send it to Darain's sister," Garran said firmly. "She was furious—almost killed her own brother over that ring."
Davor's smile faltered. His lips parted slightly as realization struck."Oh," he muttered. "So… the Verault family has some serious anger issues, huh?"
He tried to laugh, still attempting to lighten the mood, but Garran wasn't having it. He let out a long sigh and looked across the dome. His eyes landed on Darain—sitting alone, far away from the others.
His head was bowed, his fingers fidgeting with flower petals in his lap—ones he must've picked up before entering the dome. The usual arrogance in him had vanished. Now, he just looked lost. Distant. Hurt.
Davor followed Garran's gaze.
"What about the damages?" he asked, trying to switch the subject. "The Verault family's covering it, right? Please tell me it's not coming out of my salary…"
But Garran didn't respond. His attention remained fixed on Darain.
"I'm more worried about that kid," he said quietly.
Davor looked again at Darain but didn't say anything. Garran exhaled and placed a hand on Davor's shoulder.
"I have to make an announcement. We'll talk later," he said, then turned and walked toward the center of the dome.
Garran cleared his throat, his voice rising above the quiet hum of chatter.
"Everyone, may I have your attention."
The students fell silent, their eyes turning toward him.
"I'm sorry for what happened today," he began. "It was all just a misunderstanding—but don't worry, everything is under control now."
He paused, glancing at the dome around them before continuing.
"As for the base… well, unfortunately, your dorms suffered significant damage and will need time to be repaired. That's why I'm here—to let you all know that, starting today, you'll temporarily be staying in the unused dormitory of the Aetherion Division."
A wave of murmurs rippled through the students. Some exchanged curious glances; others visibly brightened.
"You'll be living there for just a week," Garran added. "I'll keep you updated once the repairs are complete. For now, be prepared to share rooms. If you want to request a roommate—maybe a friend—let me know as soon as possible."
He gave a small nod, signaling that he was done. A beat of silence followed, then excitement slowly began to spread among the students. Whispers echoed around the dome—some thrilled, others stunned. After all, the Aetherion base was known for its elegance, cutting-edge facilities, and luxurious design. It had the unmistakable air of a "favorite child."
Satisfied, Garran stepped down and made his way toward Seren, who stood near the back of the dome. They began discussing logistics, as Seren was usually in charge of managing the Aetherion base.
The two stepped out of the dome, heading toward the Aetherion base to inspect the dormitories. They moved from room to room, counting how many were vacant, dividing the spaces for the thirty-plus Dominar students. After hours of preparing and organizing—with the help of several Dawnguard, they finally managed to ready everything.
As the sky shifted into a late afternoon hue, they returned to the dome. Inside, the students were scattered in groups—some in groups, others in pairs, a few sitting quietly alone. Plates of food were passed around, and the mood had begun to lift. Laughter echoed here and there, like the morning's disaster never happened.
Ezren approached them, brushing back his loose sleeves. "How's the plan?" he asked, glancing between Seren and Garran, ready to help sort the students.
"Three students per dorm," Seren replied, her eyes scanning the gathered students. Ezren nodded, noting the arrangement mentally as he looked over the sea of young faces. Many were smiling now, distracted by food.
"Should I make the announcement," he asked, "or do you want to do it, Chief?"
Garran let out a long sigh and dropped onto a bench behind them. "Please, go ahead. I'll sit this one out. Getting old—standing too long makes my knees feel like they're made of sand."
Ezren chuckled, then made his way toward the center, clapping his hands loudly to gather attention.
"Alright, everyone! Once you're done eating, please group yourselves into threes. Those will be your dormmates for the whole week!"
His voice carried across the dome, drawing several surprised glances and excited whispers. Some students were already turning toward their friends, whispering about who they'd pick.
Ezren returned to Garran, letting out a dramatic exhale as he sat beside him. "You're right. Even a short announcement is exhausting."
From the side, Davor laughed while chewing beside a student group, as if he belonged among them. "See? Told you not to exert yourself too much. You're young, but your body is already giving out."
Ezren raised an eyebrow. "And you're out here pretending you're still a teenager."
That made Davor laugh harder, nearly choking on his food. Then, as if remembering something important, he turned serious, biting off a chunk of chicken leg before speaking.
"Oh! About the ring—I already sent it."
Garran blinked, eyes narrowing. "Already? When?"
"I saw Mourn earlier, so I told him to deliver it to the Verault girl," Davor said nonchalantly, licking sauce from his fingers.
Garran's lips parted slightly, and then a scoff escaped him as he shook his head in disbelief. A crooked smile tugged at his face. "You even made Mourn your delivery guy now?" he muttered, half amused, half exasperated.
Of course, Davor would do something like that. He always did whatever he wanted.
After a few minutes, the students began cleaning up the remains of their meal and gathering in groups of three. Seren and Ezren moved through the crowd, helping to escort them and ensure the groups were formed properly.
In the middle of the room, Cael stood alone. He glanced around subtly, waiting for someone to approach him. But as always, the others avoided him like he carried a disease. Their aversion wasn't loud, but it was deeply felt. They shifted their eyes away, found excuses to move, pretended not to see him.
Ezren noticed.
So did Seren.
And so did the Pillars.
Far across the dome, Darain sat hunched on a bench, staring at nothing, seemingly uninterested. His expression was distant, like he hadn't even registered the grouping process. Seren cleared his throat, and Darain looked up slowly, eyes glazed and dull.
But then—he realized everyone was staring at him.
In an instant, his demeanor changed. He jumped to his feet, pasted on a bright smile, and let out a laugh.
"What's up?" he said cheerfully, his voice a little too loud. "Is this about roomies?"
His eyes darted nervously between Seren and the Pillars. No one had said a word yet. No one had even responded.
Darain laughed again, forced and hollow, and then turned abruptly toward Cael.
"I'll be sharing with Stick Boy," he declared with mock enthusiasm, slinging an arm around Cael's shoulder.
Cael gave him a side-eye. "You don't even know my name."
"You don't know mine either," Darain shot back with a grin. "So we're even."
Cael sighed but didn't push him away. He accepted it.
From behind them, the chief rose to his feet. "Good. The two of you will share one room," Garran announced.
Seren and Ezren turned to look at him, exchanging a quick glance before looking back at the two boys. They hadn't expected the pairing—but they didn't argue.
"Thank you, Chief!" Darain called over his shoulder, already dragging Cael toward the Aetherion wing without waiting for further instruction.
"Hey! Get back here—!" Seren shouted, about to follow.
But Garran's hand landed on his back, gentle but firm. "Let them," he said simply.
Seren paused, glancing back one last time before letting them go.
Meanwhile, Rhosyn rose quietly from her seat and walked out of the dome. Her job was done.
"Alright, just follow Seren and Ezren—they'll show you to your assigned rooms," Garran said, his voice steady but tired. "I'll see you all tomorrow."
With that, he turned and walked away, following after Davor. Their part was done. Now, it was up to Seren and Ezren.
Seren clapped his hands to get the students' attention. "Let's move. Get changed, settle in, and rest," he called out, already heading toward the Aetherion wing.
One by one, the groups followed, each trio entering a room that—despite being foreign—felt far more luxurious than what they were used to. The gleam of polished floors, the soft hum of ambient light, and the quiet chill of well-maintained air hinted at the Aetherion Division's superiority. Some students couldn't hide their glee; others remained quietly in awe.
Finally, as Seren was about to close the last door, he paused.
"And don't give me a headache tomorrow," he muttered, the same warning he'd given every group, before firmly shutting the door.
He turned to Ezren, who was holding a tablet and checking off names.
"All accounted for?" Seren asked.
Ezren gave a tired nod. "Every room logged, every student inside."
Seren let out a small exhale. "I'm heading out."
"Same," Ezren replied.
With that, the two men exchanged a silent nod and went their separate ways down the dimly lit corridor.