The day had passed in its usual rhythm — classes, whispers, and the constant hum of eyes on him. Justin endured it with his usual composure, adjusting his glasses, speaking only when needed. Enid had tried once or twice to spark conversation in class, her brightness bouncing against his calm. Xavier sketched as always, shadow and fire filling his pages.
But it was in the corridor outside Alchemy that the day fractured.
The hall bustled with students spilling out, glass vials clinking in their bags, voices bouncing against the stone arches. The chatter dimmed when Bianca Barclay stepped forward, her clique forming a crescent behind her like courtiers. Her smile gleamed sharp as polished glass.
"Nightwalker," she called, voice silk and velvet. "A word."
The corridor hushed. Xavier stiffened beside Justin. Enid, down the way with Yoko, froze mid-sentence, her wolf stirring uneasily.
Bianca moved closer. Her eyes shimmered, her voice dropping to a velvet hum laced with siren magic. "You don't need to walk alone. You and I — we could rule this place. Don't you feel it?"
The charm rippled outward. Students faltered, some swaying, their eyes glassing faintly as her song brushed their minds like silk chains.
Justin didn't move. His abyssal eyes burned faint fire behind his glasses.
And then he laughed once. Short. Cold.
"You dare."
He raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
The sound cracked like thunder. A golden wave erupted outward, flooding the corridor in every direction.
Stone walls blazed into flawless metal. Torches, sconces, archways, even the floor beneath their feet turned to purest gold. The carved beams overhead gleamed, dripping with unnatural light. Books and glass vials clutched by students froze solid, gleaming statues in their hands. Every surface, every inch of the hall shimmered like a shrine.
Students gasped, stumbling back, their shoes clattering against golden stone. None of them turned — unless he willed it.
Bianca staggered. The golden wave had touched her differently. Her jewelry, her bracelets, the clasp at her throat, even the very fabric of her blouse hardened to radiant gold, clinging heavy and choking at her neck. For one frozen instant, her reflection glared back at her from her own cursed clothes.
Justin's voice rolled low, merciless. "You wanted to leash me? Then wear your warning."
Her hands trembled as she clawed at the golden collar forming against her throat. With a brittle crack, it broke free, clattering to the gilded floor like a tolling bell.
Justin's abyssal eyes burned brighter. "Get rid of it all. Every piece. Or the curse will claim you. My gold is never stolen. Only given."
The words carried through the hall like scripture.
Bianca ripped the golden blouse away, tearing it in jagged shards. Bracelets fell from her wrists, heavy as anchors. Rings split from her fingers. Her clique rushed to cover her with jackets, pale with shock.
All around them, the corridor gleamed. Students reached out, touched the walls — then snatched their hands back in fear. The whispers started instantly, fevered and wild.
He turned the whole hall to gold.
She almost became one of them.
Never touch his Collection — never even think it.
Justin adjusted his tie, crest pin flashing like a crown. His voice was final. "She tried. She failed."
He walked on, Xavier hurrying to keep pace, Enid staring after him with wide eyes.
Behind them, Bianca stood pale in a corridor of gold, draped in borrowed jackets, her pride cracked like shattered glass.
—
That night, the hall still gleamed, torches throwing fractured light across every surface. No one dared linger. They whispered instead. Of curses. Of how even thinking of stealing a piece of Justin's gold would seal your fate.
Some swore they heard faint snaps echo when the hall was empty. Others swore the golden sconces whispered when the wind rattled the windows.
In their dorm, Xavier sprawled across his bed, staring at the ceiling. "You didn't just humiliate her. You turned her into a warning."
Justin set his glasses on the desk, abyssal eyes glowing faint white fire. "Good."
Xavier let out a low whistle. "You're going to be a story they tell first-years. The Golden Hall."
Across the wing, Enid sat hugging her pillow, the image of the wave replaying every time she blinked. She whispered into the dark, "What are you, Justin Nightwalker?"
And in her dorm, Bianca stared at the golden scraps piled on her floor. Her voice cracked when she whispered, "No one makes me stumble."
But the gold gleamed back, heavy and cursed, and Justin's voice echoed in her chest:
My gold is never stolen. Only given.