Zugpflicht

The room shifted.

A ripple of unease passed through them.

He had just flipped the entire bounty system on its head.

Now, instead of everyone simply hunting him, they had to question whether Orion was planning to give away 500 credits to someone securing an alliance.

What if Orion had already chosen his candidates? What if he had potential allies in mind, ones who could shift the balance in his favor? What if the true contest had begun long before the trials, but the players remained oblivious to their own involvement.

The unease was subtle, but it was there.

Orion let the silence stretch just long enough before shrugging. "Well, let's see how things play out."

And with that, he turned, walking toward the exit.

The others didn't stop him.

Because now, they weren't sure who the real target was anymore.

Orion's words hung in the air like a loaded weapon, their meaning sinking into the minds of everyone in the chamber. He didn't confirm anything. He didn't deny anything. He simply let the paranoia spread. And it worked.

Nyra shifted slightly in her seat, her fingers tapping against the table—not out of irritation, but calculation. Who had Orion bought? She had controlled this game at the start, but now? She wasn't sure.

Elias, the ever-smug manipulator, had stopped smirking. His eyes flickered across the room, scanning for signs of weakness. If Orion had made an alliance, Elias needed to break it before it cost him. But who was it? Ingrid? Renata?

Ares crossed his arms, the silence stretching. Unlike the others, he wasn't much of a schemer. Thinking was not his forte. 

Renata remained unreadable, her gaze flicking between the others.

And then there was Ingrid.

She still hadn't spoken.

But for the first time, Orion saw it—the glint of quiet admiration in her gaze.

She wasn't fooled by paranoia. She wasn't caught in fear.

She saw exactly what Orion had done.

Orion let them sit in their own uncertainty for a moment longer before turning toward the exit. He didn't rush. Didn't hesitate.

He had already won this battle without throwing a single strike.

Behind him, the air was thick with suspicion. The others weren't focused on him anymore.

They were focused on each other.

And as Orion stepped out of the chamber, he knew one thing for certain—they had all just made his path to Apex easier.

Just as Orion reached the door, Elias finally moved.

A slow, measured chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned back into his chair. "Wait," he said, his voice smooth, too smooth—the voice of a man who knew how to turn a losing position into an advantage.

Orion paused.

Elias clasped his hands together, looking around the room, addressing everyone except Orion. "We're all being played, aren't we?" he mused, his tone casual, but with an underlying sharpness. "First by the Academy… and now, by him."

He tilted his head slightly toward Orion without looking at him directly.

"And I have to say, it's a clever trick."

A few of the others—Nyra, Ares, Renata—were still processing his words, but Ingrid? Her lips curved, ever so slightly. She saw what Elias was about to do.

"But," Elias continued, "there's no reason for us to be caught up in his little game, is there?" He let the words settle before adding, "We could just split it."

"200 credits each."

The offer hung in the air.

It was brilliant—in its own way. Instead of letting them all tear each other apart over Orion's supposed schemes, Elias had just offered an escape route.

No backstabbing. No paranoia. A simple, clean division of the bounty.

Ares exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "Hmph. Not a bad deal."

Nyra narrowed her eyes, her expression unreadable. Renata, as always, remained neutral.

Elias glanced at Ingrid. *Still watching*.

Orion turned back slowly, his eyes meeting Elias'. This was an amazing power play.

By splitting the reward, Elias was defusing the paranoia Orion had created—and ensuring that Orion couldn't manipulate the others against each other. If they accepted, Elias would come out as the peacemaker, the one who had stabilized the situation.

But there was one flaw.

Orion smiled slightly. "Not bad, Elias. But tell me…" His eyes flicked toward the others. "Do any of you actually trust one another?"

Elias' smirk twitched—almost imperceptibly.

Because that was the problem, wasn't it?

He could promise 200 credits to everyone… but when the time came, what was stopping him from keeping it all for himself?

The paranoia wasn't gone.

It had just been redirected.

And Orion had just pushed it right back onto Elias.

Nyra, ever the strategist, didn't speak immediately, but Orion could see the gears turning in her mind. Did she trust Elias to hold up his end of the deal? Would she, a Zey'ran, a product of one of the most ruthless aristocratic dynasties in the Confederacy, ever rely on the promise of another?

Ares scoffed, arms crossed. "You expect me to believe you'd just hand over 200 credits to each of us? No offense, Elias, but you're a scheming bastard, and I don't like gambling with people like you."

Elias opened his mouth to respond, but Renata cut him off.

"For the credits to be split, Orion would have to be eliminated first," she said smoothly. "So tell me, Elias, who gets to land the final blow? Who gets the privilege of taking him out while the rest of us just… watch?"

Her words changed everything.

Who would land the final strike? Who would Elias really honor the deal with? Would the first person to act become a target themselves?

Orion could feel the balance shifting.

He had planted one doubt, and now it was spiraling.

Elias let out a slow breath, visibly adjusting his approach. "Look, this isn't complicated. We take Orion out, we—"

"We what?" Ingrid finally spoke.

Her voice was soft, almost amused, but the weight it carried immediately silenced the room.

Her gaze, sharp and knowing, locked onto Elias. "Are you saying we'll just… politely divide the credits afterward? As if none of us will try to take a bigger share? As if you won't make sure you benefit the most?"

Orion didn't need to say another word.

He just watched as Elias lost control of the room.

And then, at last, he turned and walked out.

His mind drifted.

Zugpflicht.

The word surfaced in his thoughts, unbidden. A concept from chess, from a time when battles were fought not in the void between stars, but on wooden boards with carved pieces.

A forced move.

A state where a player had no choice but to act, even when every possible decision led to ruin.

Wasn't that exactly what the Academy had done?

By placing a bounty on him, by turning the credits into a prize, they had created a scenario where he had no choice but to play.

It wasn't a question of whether he wanted to participate anymore.

Just before stepping out, he glanced back over his shoulder, eyes meeting his father's. A flicker of mischief danced in his gaze, subtle but deliberate. A challenge.

"Let's go then, Sir Ashen Wolf. I have some training to do."

Cassian Reyes, the legendary Ashen Wolf, the unshakable tactician, the man who had remained the epitome of composure in war councils and on battlefields alike—almost stumbled.

It was a fraction of a second, a near imperceptible break in his poise. But Orion saw it. And as he turned away, he didn't need to look back to know that for the first time in a long while, he had caught his father off guard.