The voice didn't sound human. It sounded like it had been sleeping for centuries.
The voice was deeper. Distant. Not his.
Josh felt it then.
The chill in his spine.
The weight of something watching.
Something vast.
Josh's body stiffened. A cold washed over him—like falling backward into a pit with no bottom.
He stumbled back, trying to summon another bolt.
But before he could let it loose—
An arm slipped around his shoulders.
"Easy now."
Josh froze.
Louis stood beside him, calm, like he'd been there the whole time.
"That's enough," Louis said.
Then—
An arm slid over his shoulder.
"That's enough."
Josh turned his head slightly, and his blood ran cold.
Standing behind him, one arm draped casually over his shoulder like it was just another school day, was Louis Grim.
"Heyyy, buddy," Louis said with a warm grin, like they were teammates after practice. "You look tense."
The friendly tone didn't match the tension in the air. It only made it worse.
Louis Grim.
The former Number Two.
The guy everyone liked—but no one wanted to fight.
He was the type who smiled wide, cracked bad jokes, and gave out high fives in the hallway like candy. Always cool, always chill. People forgot, sometimes, what he really was. Until he reminded them.
Until this.
He was hard to miss: tall, solid, built like a linebacker. His wide chest and thick arms stretched the sleeves of a black bomber jacket. A clean white tee clung beneath it, and jagged zig-zag patterns streaked down the sides of the jacket like scars.
But it was the back of the jacket that made people hesitate.
Emblazoned in dark gray thread was a stylized emblem:
a smiling mask split down the middle by a jagged blade.
One half cheerful, the other cracked and hollow.
A warning and a promise.
His jeans and sneakers were simple, almost too casual, but the way he moved—fluid and grounded—made it clear: he didn't need flash. The silver rings on his fingers glinted like warning lights. His earrings caught the overhead glow. Every detail said: friendly face, deadly hands.
Josh didn't move. Couldn't.
"That's enough," Louis said, voice dropping—no more smiles, no more warmth. Just ice.
He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with Josh. And for the first time tonight, Josh felt what it was like to be prey.
The pressure on his shoulder wasn't hard, but it warned him. A grip that could tighten any second.
Ray lay on the floor, soaked, bleeding, gasping. His eyes were glazed over, but even in the blur, he saw Louis. That weird feeling of safety—just for a second—washed over him.
Josh opened his mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to mock. But all he got out was a breath.
Louis leaned in just a little. Voice flat now.
"Walk away."
Josh hesitated.
"Now," Louis added, tone snapping into something colder, final. The air thinned.
And suddenly, the choice was obvious.
Josh fled the scene, stumbling over himself as he rushed out of the hallway. Louis stood still, watching the retreat like he was waiting for the door to close on a chapter he didn't want to reopen.
Then, without warning, he moved—fast. He appeared beside Ray in a blink.
Louis knelt down, placing a steady hand on Ray's chest. His voice dropped low.
"It's okay, kid," he said gently. "I got you."
And in the next breath—they vanished.
They reappeared in the school's emergency medic room—dimly lit, sterile, humming faintly with arcane tech. Ray lay limp in Louis's arms.
Moments later, Louis blinked away again—and when he returned, he wasn't alone.
A girl landed beside him, thrown off balance by the sudden shift in space. "Louis?! What the hell—?"
It was Gwen Elystra. Sophomore. Known for her chaotic energy and sharper tongue. A black choker hugged her neck, and her rings clinked as she steadied herself. Her hair—a messy pixie cut dyed a storm of purple and silver—framed her face like lightning. She looked ready to punch him. Then she saw Ray.
"Oh my god—" she gasped.
She immediately reached for the silver pins tucked in her hair. With a flick, they rose into the air and snapped into a precise formation, forming a glowing hexagonal barrier around Ray's body.
As she worked, the rest of her image came into view—torn uniform sleeves, frayed and pinned back, glinting rings on every finger. Gwen always looked like she just stepped out of another dimension. There was something about her—magnetic, almost divine. She wasn't just a healer.
She was touched.
"What happened?" she asked, eyes narrowed, hands already glowing.
Louis crossed his arms. "Not too sure. Heard a loud thud outside my classroom, ran over, and saw Ray down. Josh was standing over him."
Gwen's mouth tightened. "Unbelievable. Picking fights he can't win again. That idiot. Was Josh alone?"
Louis shook his head. "There were two others, Dr. Moreau is also getting helped In the next room over. They'll be alright."
"Well, that's good, I've got some questions for them." Gwen muttered, kneeling beside Ray again. Her eyes began to glow, irises turning an electric gold as she scanned his body.
"Don't waste them on pawns," Louis said firmly. "Josh was the real threat. This whole thing was probably planned. But… I doubt he's gonna show his face again. Ray's taken hits before. He gets back up. But this—"
He stopped.
"This felt different."
Gwen didn't answer. Her fingers hovered over Ray's chest, light pouring into his wounds. She flinched.
"What is it?" Louis asked, voice low.
Her brow furrowed. "...His body's healing already. Way too fast."
Louis leaned closer. "Fast?"
"Almost as fast as me," she said slowly. "But it's not coming from him. The healing—it's flowing from the necklace."
Louis's eyes narrowed. "The one he always wears?"
She nodded. "Yeah. It's glowing. Like it's alive. Divine energy, but not stable. It's flickering, almost like—like it's breathing. That thing is definitely an artifact."
Louis let out a low whistle. "So the kid's been carrying a relic this whole time... No wonder he keeps getting dragged into this crap. His parents must've been really powerful if they were giving their kid something like that."
Gwen stood, brushing herself off. "He should stabilize. Might wake up in a few days—if that thing keeps feeding him."
She sighed. "Alright. Send me back. I've got a test."
Louis blinked, caught off guard. "Right. Sorry."
He snapped his fingers. Gwen vanished in a blink of purple mist and silver sparks.
Silence fell.
Louis turned to leave—but a weak, cold grip caught his wrist.
He froze.
Looked down.
Ray.
His hand trembled, barely able to hold on, but it was there—clutching Louis like he was the last tether to something real.
Then Ray's eyes opened.
They weren't normal anymore.
They were black, endless, swirling with shadows and flecks of starlight—like he was staring up from the bottom of the universe.
Louis stumbled back.
"Ray!?"