I’m not exactly known for biting my tongue. Folding my hands and submitting quietly to a threatening necromancer? Hard pass.

  “Were you taught that?” I snapped, heat flaring in my chest. “Because you attacked me the moment I showed up.”

  Grey narrowed his eyes, irritation flickering across his expression.

  “Then you shouldn’t have teleported into a restricted zone. What exactly were you expecting, especially while trailing emissions of black essence behind you?”

  I frowned. Here we go again. Black essence? What was he even talking about?

  “Hand,” he said curtly, extending his palm. “No arguments. We’ll determine your level.”

  Grey nodded to Mannik, who retrieved a thoroughly unsettling artefact from a nearby shelf. It looked like a prop straight out of a horror film: a bowl carved from an actual skull — or an extremely convincing replica. Inside it, grey mist churned on its own, alive in a way mist absolutely shouldn’t be.

  “Your hand,” Grey repeated.

  I extended my palm. He took a small knife, its blade glinting dully in the magical light.

  “Ow!” I yelped. “A warning would’ve been nice! And what exactly gives you the right to maim students?”

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  The cut was quick and precise. Before I could properly protest, a thin stream of blood spilled into the bowl, dissolving into the swirling haze. The mist immediately reacted, darkening, stretching toward deep crimson, then bright red.

  Mannik picked up a quill with sudden seriousness and opened a ledger, while Grey frowned and sighed in annoyance.

  “Red level.”

  “That’s… good?” I ventured, still clinging to optimism.

  Mannik snorted, glancing up from the page.

  “Minimum threshold. But you’re required to study your dark gift. Law’s the law.”

  He shot a look at Grey, who nodded.

  “Fine,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “If I must, I must. But… is there any way to go home? There’s no magic in my world. I could live peacefully and not bother anyone.”

  Grey crossed his arms and gave a humourless smirk.

  “If it were that simple, I’d have thrown you out myself,” he muttered.

  His irritation was impossible to miss. And something in his gaze finally pushed me over the edge — like I was a personal mistake he couldn’t erase.

  “You know,” I snapped, “it really feels like if you had your way, you’d strangle me yourself. You act like I’m inconveniencing your existence. But you resurrected me. You killed me and then brought me back. Because of you, I’m stuck orbiting you like I’m tethered! I almost died — again — and who did you blame? Me. Obviously. The easiest solution would’ve been to just let me die, since I annoy you so much. Right?”

  Grey froze for a moment, as if weighing his response. Then he looked at me darkly and said with a thin smile:

  “Dying would certainly be the simplest option. Unfortunately for both of us, as an outworlder you’re protected by magical law, which means I’m required to save you.”

  He paused, his voice turning icy.

  “But next time… I might arrive late. Accidentally.”

  The words landed like a slap. I actually staggered.

  Grey, meanwhile, acted as though nothing had happened. He filled out a few forms, nodded for the assistant to clean and put away the artefact, and dismissed me back to the reception area.