Twelve years ago
The ballroom sparkled with glass chandeliers and names dipped in gold.
Little boys wore suits too big for their shoulders. Little girls wore dresses stitched in secrets. Everyone smiled — except for one boy in the farthest corner.
Kairo De Lèon . Age 6.
He wasn't crying.
But his fist was clenched so tightly around a gold pen that blood dripped from his palm.
"You embarrassed me," his father hissed in his ear.
"I didn't mean—"
"*Intentions don't matter, Kairo.* Only power. Only image. Only obedience."
Kairo didn't cry. He never cried.
Not even when his father took the pen and carved a single line down his palm — as a lesson.
"You were born to lead, boy. So stop acting like someone who can be led."
That night, Kairo swore he'd never feel anything again unless he could use it.
And he kept that promise.
Until *her*.
---
PRESENT DAY-AURORA HIGH
Kairo stared at the message Red Widow had sent him anonymously:
"Fall all you kairo dear . But know this the girl you are chasing isn't meant to be caught. Only burned."
He closed the message and deleted it.
His jaw tightened.
Then he walked out of the lounge and straight to Section E's corridor.
She was there.
She always was.
Leaning against the wall, eyes half-lidded, like she didn't care about anything — but watching *everything*.
"Sera," he said.
She raised a brow. "You're starting to say my name like a habit."
"I don't have habits," he snapped. "Only control."
"Losing it already?"
He stepped closer. "I don't lose."
"You're already losing," she whispered. "Because now… you *want* me."
He paused.
Let the silence stretch.
Then said the quietest thing she never expected to hear:
> "I think I already did."
And just like that, the game stopped feeling like a game.
Her breath hitched.
But she didn't show it.
Not yet.
She only smiled. Deadly. Soft. Heartbreaking.
"Then i hope you are ready to lose more than just yourself."
Because Sera?
She didn't come to win hearts.
She came to ruin legacies.