Her voice still dripped in my skull—soft, steady, like wine hitting water.
I stared. Couldn't stop. My dignity folded like wet paper.
"Is there a problem, or are you just… weird?" she asked, eyes unreadable.
"Dizzy," I croaked. "Today's been… weird."
The room tilted.
You dare trespass into my domain.
A whisper, not mine.
Vision blurred. Legs went numb.
"Boy—hey, wake up!"
School infirmary. Oxygen mask. Drip in my arm.
I'd kissed death and walked away.
"You're finally awake," the nurse said, relief softening her face. "Dehydration, stress… and one too many illusions. How do you feel?"
"Am I dying?"
She laughed. "Not today. Thank your friend—she carried you here."
Friend?
The girl from the dream.
"She's a good one," the nurse teased. "Get her number before someone else does."
Competition.
The bet slammed back into me.
"Oh no…"
"What bet?" she asked.
"You wouldn't get it."
"Kids grow fast," she sighed. "Seventeen going on ancient."
"You're half my age," I shot back.
"That's my boy." She winked. "Now drink water. And don't forget the girl."
Night swallowed campus. Wolves howled beyond the walls.
My bag—keys, card, dignity—still in the classroom.
Street food it is.
A violin drifted from the music block.
I followed the sound.
Emily.
Nerd. Violin goddess. Fingers dancing like light on water.
I lingered in the doorway, half-hidden.
"I can see you," she said without turning. "Your shadow's a traitor."
"Get you, Emily."
"You're brave," she said, lowering the bow. "Carrying hell for others. I see it in your eyes—that bleeding soul."
The words cut deeper than steel.
"How do you know?"
"I don't know much." She packed the violin. "But your heart is pure. The devil's kryptonite. God loves those who shoulder hell so others can smile."
We stepped into the cold.
"For a minute, I thought today was a lie," I said, staring at the dark sky.
"My mother said the older you get, the clearer it becomes: God never pairs like with like. Demons to angels. Sinners to saints. Hell to the noble. Balance."
"Your mom sounds wise."
Her eyes glistened. Pain leaked through the cracks.
"Why are you crying?" I asked. "Is she…?"
Tears fell.
"You're too innocent to die," she whispered. "Don't let her go. She's your emerald."
She hugged me.
Warmth.
Then—fire.
It clawed under my skin. Needles in my heart. I couldn't stop the tears.
Snow began to fall. Wind bit. The world hushed.
"What about the emerald armor?" she asked softly.
"I don't even know where to start."
"Count me in," she said, gripping my hands. "You don't do miracles alone."
"You know quantum physics?"
"Think you're the only nerd here?" She laughed—then blushed. "What's your plan with… her?"
"I don't even know her name."
"She's new. Doesn't care about anyone," Emily said flatly.
I walked her home.
Before disappearing inside, she pressed a tiny Bible into my palm.
Today taught me:
You can't walk alone.
Hell is closest to heaven.
I have to find that girl.
Because when destiny is God-forged, not even the devil can break it.
If He carried me today, He'll carry me a thousand more.
No curse will snuff my flame.
The fire rises.
My armor hardens.
My domain expands.
Hell doesn't stand a chance.
Meanwhile, in the spirit realm…
"Master," a patrol demon hissed, "a seed of the cross interferes. I tried to kill him—God's hand blocked me. He's becoming a threat."
The Arch Demon's eyes burned crimson.
"Finish him. His eyes are mine."
A deeper voice rumbled from the void—selfish, ancient:
"We shall see about that."
"The girl belongs to me."