Ezra's fists hit the punching bag in a steady rhythm, the sound of his gloves thudding against the leather filling the room. He focused on the movement, letting the physical exertion drown out the whirlwind of thoughts that had been building since Mako's funeral. The tightness in his chest from the service hadn't gone away, and pounding the bag was the only thing that made him feel somewhat grounded.
Nearby, a few of the cadets were scattered around the quarters, the usual banter flying back and forth. Amara was sitting with her tablet, scrolling through the news with a frown etched on her face.
"They're calling it Obsidian Fury," she muttered, her eyes glued to the screen. "There's never been a rogue like this."
Ezra's punches slowed for a moment, his attention drawn to her words. Obsidian Fury. The rogue Jaeger. The name sent a chill down his spine. He hadn't been there during the fight, but he'd heard enough about it to know it was bad. Really bad.
Meilin, sitting on her bed with her journal in hand, glanced up. "News feed said they were posting a dozen Jaegers at the memorial." Her tone was casual, but Ezra could hear the weight behind it. Even the mention of the memorial felt raw.
Suresh, who had just come out of the SIM training, helmet in hand, grinned. "When I die, I want that many to send me off."
"Your pop's gonna make you work with boobs when you wash out," Renata shot back, her arms crossed as she leaned against the wall, smirking.
Ezra chuckled quietly, his rhythm picking up on the bag again as he listened to the back-and-forth.
"Jaegers do not show up when the boob guy dies," Ilya chimed in with a snort, shaking his head.
Amara looked up, confused. "Wait, your dad works with boobs?"
Suresh's face flushed, and he quickly tried to clarify. "He's a plastic surgeon. He doesn't just work with... I'm not gonna wash out. I'm gonna be a pilot."
Jinhai laughed, leaning back against his bunk. "Still. You die, meh, I post one Jaeger at your funeral. Maybe half a Jaeger."
Ezra caught a glimpse of Amara smiling before Viktoria Malinkova's voice cut through the chatter from her spot on the top bunk. "I heard that's where they found Amara. In half a Jaeger."
Amara had been holding her ground, seated on her bunk with her tablet, but Viktoria wasn't the type to let something like that slide. She slammed her book closed, the sharp snap of the pages echoing off the walls. Ezra's stomach tightened as Viktoria jumped off the top bunk and marched straight toward Amara, her eyes blazing.
Ezra could see it coming—the way Viktoria's fists clenched, the way her jaw tightened with that barely contained fury. She towered over Amara, her shadow falling across her as she leaned in, voice low and dangerous. "Bigger is better."
Amara, to her credit, didn't flinch. She met Viktoria's stare head-on, her expression cool, as if the bigger girl didn't intimidate her at all. Without missing a beat, Amara fired back in Russian, her voice smooth and mocking. "Kiss my ass."
The room collectively held its breath. Ezra froze, his hands still on the punching bag, the tension between the two girls crackling like electricity in the air.
Viktoria's eyes narrowed, her face twisting in disbelief. "What did you say?"
Amara smirked, her gaze steady. She repeated it, this time slower, deliberately, as if she were daring Viktoria to make a move. "Kiss. My. Ass." She glanced at Ezra briefly, asking, "Am I saying that right?"
Ezra, sensing the escalation, nodded quickly. "Yep."
That was all it took. Viktoria moved like a flash, her hand shooting out to grab Amara by the collar and yank her off the bed. In an instant, she had Amara in a headlock, her arm tight around her neck. The room erupted with noise—shouts of surprise and encouragement from the other cadets, everyone pushing to their feet to get a better view of the fight.
Ezra's heart leaped into his throat. "Guys, come on!" he shouted, trying to push through the chaos. "Hey! Hey!"
But Amara wasn't about to go down easily. She struggled against Viktoria's grip for a split second before she twisted sharply, driving her elbow back into Viktoria's side with a satisfying thud. Viktoria grunted in surprise, her grip loosening just enough for Amara to slip out of the hold.
The room buzzed with energy as the two girls squared off, but Amara was faster. She didn't hesitate—she spun around, planting her foot on the floor before launching herself at Viktoria. Ezra could barely believe what he was seeing. Amara climbed Viktoria like a tree, wrapping her legs around the taller girl's neck and using her momentum to flip Viktoria backward.
The thud of Viktoria hitting the ground echoed through the room, and the crowd of cadets reacted with a mixture of shock and awe. Amara wasted no time—she quickly secured Viktoria in an arm lock, her knees pressing down hard on Viktoria's shoulder, pinning her to the floor.
"You know where I learned that?" Amara hissed, her breath heavy but her voice steady. "On the streets, you big dumb—"
But before Amara could finish, Ezra's instincts kicked in. "Ranger on deck!"
The command echoed across the room, and just like that, the chaos was silenced. Every cadet snapped to attention, even Viktoria, though she was still lying on the ground beneath Amara's hold. All eyes shot toward the door, where Analia stood, her expression a mixture of disbelief and annoyance.
Analia's gaze swept across the room, landing first on Amara, then on Viktoria, and finally on Ezra. She exhaled sharply, clearly unimpressed by the scene before her.
"What in the hell is going on?" Analia demanded, her voice ringing through the now-quiet room.
Amara, still breathing hard, was the first to speak. "She jumped me!" she yelled, pointing down at Viktoria, who was still trapped beneath her.
"She doesn't belong here!" Viktoria shot back, her voice filled with venom as she glared up at Amara.
Analia's eyes narrowed, her patience clearly wearing thin. She took a step forward, her presence commanding the room. "You know what? I. DON'T. CARE!" Her voice boomed, making everyone stiffen further, standing as straight as possible.
Ezra watched, still caught up in the energy of the fight, but his mom's tone immediately sobered him. The way she held the room's attention—it was like nothing else mattered but what she was about to say.
"You know, when I first became a pilot, no one knew who I was. I was just some woman an ex-pilot dragged in with a kid on her hip," Analia said, her voice hard, but her words full of personal truth. Ezra's chest tightened at the mention of their early years, of what they had gone through. He hadn't known much about it, but he knew enough to understand how hard his mom had fought to be where she was now.
Analia continued, her gaze sharp as she addressed both girls. "Not much better than either of you. But that woman we laid to rest today, Mako Mori, my best friend, she said, 'Whoever you are, the minute you enter this program, you join a family. And no matter what they do, no matter how stupid they may act sometimes, you forgive them, and you move on.'"
The weight of her words hung in the air, pressing down on the cadets like a heavy blanket. Ezra could feel the shift in the room—everyone was listening now, really listening.
"Your past is your past," Analia said, her voice strong. "How you got here doesn't fucking matter. So get your heads out of your asses and start acting like a family. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am," Amara and Viktoria both mumbled, still catching their breath.
"That's better," Analia said, stepping back and surveying the room. "Now get your shit together."
Just as the tension started to ease, Reyes poked her head in from the hallway, her voice cutting through the heavy silence. "Hey. Marshal's looking for you guys. Says Gottlieb found something."
As soon as Analia left the room, the tension that had been kept at bay by her commanding presence began to creep back in. The cadets lingered, unsure of what to do next. Ezra watched as Amara stood up, brushing off her pants, while Viktoria glared at her from the other side of the room. The silence was thick, and Ezra could feel the anger simmering between them.
He glanced at the door where his mom had just walked out, her words still ringing in his ears. We're supposed to be a family. But right now, they were anything but.
Taking a deep breath, Ezra stepped forward, moving toward Viktoria first. She was still sitting on the floor, scowling as she rubbed her arm where Amara had pinned her. Her face was flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Ezra crouched down in front of her, his voice low and calm.
"Vik," he said, his tone more gentle than she probably expected. "Are you okay?"
She didn't look at him right away, her jaw clenched tightly. "I'm fine," she muttered, her pride clearly bruised more than her body. "Not like it matters."
Ezra stayed quiet for a moment, giving her time to cool off. He knew that pushing her too quickly would just make things worse. Viktoria was proud, always had been, but this fight had hit something deeper. "Listen," he said softly, "I get it. You've worked your ass off to be here. We all have. But Amara… she's trying too. She's not just some street kid. She's one of us now, like my mom said."
Viktoria's eyes flicked up to meet his, still guarded, but there was something behind them—something that showed she was listening, even if she didn't want to admit it. "She got picked up because of some luck," Viktoria said bitterly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I worked every damn day for this. She didn't."
Ezra nodded slowly. "You're right. You worked hard. No one's taking that away from you. But we're all in the same place now, Vik. It doesn't matter how we got here. We all have to work together, or none of us are gonna make it." He paused, letting his words sink in. "We're a team. And you're a part of that team, just like she is."
Viktoria didn't respond right away, but the tightness in her expression seemed to soften, just a little. Ezra could tell she was still upset, but at least she wasn't ready to jump at Amara again. That's a start, he thought.
"Just… think about it, okay?" he added, standing up and offering her a hand. Viktoria hesitated, glancing up at him before grudgingly taking his hand and letting him pull her to her feet. She dusted herself off, still avoiding eye contact, but she didn't snap back this time.
Ezra turned his attention to Amara, who had been standing by her bunk, watching the exchange with a mixture of defensiveness and unease. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and Ezra could tell that despite her tough exterior, the fight had rattled her more than she was letting on.
He walked over to her, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "You okay?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
Amara huffed, shrugging her shoulders as if it didn't matter. "Yeah, I'm fine. She's just… you know." She waved her hand dismissively in Viktoria's direction, but Ezra didn't miss the tension still lingering in her posture.
"She's not as bad as she seems," Ezra said gently, leaning against the bunk beside her. "Vik's got a lot of pride. She worked her whole life to get here, and it's hard for her to see someone come in from the streets and catch up so quickly. It's not personal, not really."
Amara snorted, though there was a faint flicker of understanding in her eyes. "Could've fooled me."
"She's just scared," Ezra continued, his voice softening. "We all are. We've lost a lot of people, and it's hard to trust each other when everything feels so... shaky. But that's why we have to stick together."
Amara was quiet for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. Ezra could see the conflict in her, the way she was trying to hold on to her tough exterior while still processing everything that had happened.
"You don't have to prove anything to anyone," Ezra said gently, meeting her gaze. "Not to Vik, not to the other cadets. You're here because you earned it. You built a Jaeger. That's more than most of us can say."
Amara looked at him, the defensiveness in her eyes fading slightly. She let out a long breath, her shoulders relaxing just a bit. "Thanks," she muttered, her voice quieter now, less sharp. "It's just... I hate feeling like I don't belong."
Ezra nodded. "I get that. But you do belong, Amara. My mom sees it, and I see it too."
Amara glanced over at Viktoria, who was still standing across the room, watching them out of the corner of her eye. The tension between them hadn't completely dissolved, but it had shifted—less hostile, more... cautious.
"I'll talk to her," Ezra said quietly, noticing Amara's glance. "Just... give it time, okay?"
Amara sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Yeah, okay."
With that, the tension in the room seemed to settle, the weight of the fight lingering but not as sharp as before. Ezra stepped back, giving Amara some space as the other cadets slowly returned to their usual routines, the buzz of activity resuming like nothing had happened.