The fist swept toward me so fast it blurred at the edges, yet everything slowed: my heart pounded like a drum inside my ears, each beat stretching time so that a single heartbeat felt like a minute. A raw breeze whipped the strands of my hair back, and I tasted copper on my tongue. Instinctively, I screwed my eyes shut and curled every muscle into a rigid coil, bracing my jaw and clenching my fists by my sides. Would those knuckles crack my skull? Would this be the end?
"C–come on, man—I'm sorry!" My voice came out strangled, echoing hollowly in my own head. "You flow users are too strong to be beating me like thi—"
Before I could finish, a burst of cold violet light crackled across my vision, like lightning dancing on glass. It flared so bright I felt my skin prickle, smelled ozone sizzling in the air—and then everything collapsed into black.
Five hours later, warmth seeped back into my limbs. My shoulder sunk into something soft, like a down pillow caught fire. A dull throb pulsed behind my temples, each beat a reminder that I'd survived. Beneath my head was a crisp white pillow that rustled under my ear, and the sheet beneath my fingers was as thin as tissue paper.
Far off, I heard heavy boots clattering against a linoleum floor, the staccato tap of a nurse's heels. Somewhere else, a pen scratched against paper, and farther still, the rapid-fire clicking of keys. My foggy mind tried to assemble these sounds into a picture—a sterile room, somebody scribbling notes, people moving around me.
I cracked open one eye. Above me hung a ceiling of pale tiles. To either side, pale-blue curtains hung on metal rails, shielding me from prying eyes. I lay utterly still, anger bubbling up like acid.
Flow users first… normal people second, huh? I hissed inwardly. My fingers curled around the sheet until my knuckles hurt. "I don't need flow to be happy," I muttered, voice rough.
A laugh, soft and familiar, drifted through the gap in the curtain. "Hahaha… same boat, huh?"
Heat crawled up my neck. I turned my head toward the voice, cheeks burning. "Ah—sorry. Just… venting."
"No bother," he said as he drew back the curtain. A shaft of hallway light fell across him, outlining dark hair slicked back from his forehead and a relaxed stance that somehow radiated confidence. He wore a crisp white coat over dark slacks, and a polished badge from the Shalu Research Department caught the light at his chest. His eyes—bright, curious—met mine without a hint of mockery.
He glanced down at a chart in his hands. "Seriously though, how'd you end up here?"
I shifted—and pain bloomed in my shoulder, sharp and insistent. "Long story short… I talked trash to those muscle-head rookies from Shalu Academy," I admitted, voice low.
He smiled—a quick, reassuring curve of his lips. "Oh, those high-toppers? Yeah, they've been looking for a fight wherever they go."
He let the curtain fall back and leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed but ready to spring into action if needed. "They'll either get swallowed by some bigger crew or crash and burn when they learn they're not invincible."
For the first time since I woke, my chest loosened. I drew in a shaky breath. "Good to know…"
I sat up a fraction, studying him properly now: the playful arch of his brow, the warm tilt of his smile, that badge proclaiming both knowledge and authority. He looked… safe.
"I'm from the Green Lands," I said. My voice wavered. "I don't know much about flow or this academy. Could you explain?"
He cocked his head, eyes flicking over my bruised face. "A Greenie, huh?" Surprise lit his expression, then shifted to a grin. "Alright. I can tell you everything—but only if you answer two questions for me afterward."
He stepped closer and extended a hand, palm open. "I'm Hadal."
My pulse fluttered as I reached out. His skin was warm, calloused at the heel of his palm. "Joseph," I said.
When our hands met, a tiny spark danced between us—unspoken, electric—promising that whatever came next, my life at Shalu Academy was about to get a whole lot more complicated.