Today was the first morning back at school since Damaris’s world had split in two. The bell rang, but she wasn’t sure it had... No, she was sure, wasn’t she? The hallway outside throbbed with voices, overlapping and tumbling into one another, which would be strange if classes had already started.

  The classroom was worse than that. There was color here, warmth that had no right to be in a place such as this. Students talked with their whole bodies, about what they’d like to eat for dinner. And where they were going after the classes... She saw faces glowing with a happiness she could not logically assign to the situation they were in.

  A few looked what grieving friends should look like, and they were the only reason she could stay composed. She sort of knew that no one here knew Enochia, and thus had no reason to be sad… But with that being said, some of them looked too happy…

  Enochia had been Rank One at Minos Prime, and her sudden death had left a vacuum wide enough to make the ones who wanted to climb higher truly be happy. This also meant that one more person could enter class Alpha, which sickened her to her core. At the cost of her Chia…

  ‘They were not demons.’ But she had seen demons. During the day of blood, she saw them, she saw how they celebrated and were happy as they killed her neighbors and friends. She saw them eat them, and she saw how happy they got as they did. The suffering of those she considered family made demons happy. These people were not demons...

  ‘But they are so much alike...’

  The longer she stared at the smiling faces, the more her mind committed to the metamorphosis. Every human outline grew darker in her mind. Their excitement warped into grins. Their joy felt jagged instead of warm. They even grew horns, though they grew mockingly slow. Their teeth grew into knives and their nails into extremely sharp claws. The last thing that changed, was the fact their skin changed to purple… The same as the—

  Then something moved into her personal radius: a young demon leaning closer than he had any right to, speaking in some strange demonic language she didn’t understand. For a moment she didn’t breathe at all, the warmth of his presence turning instantly foreign in her body, skin prickling the same way she felt as when she was in a gate.

  ‘W-What’s happening???’ Her breathing got heavier and heavier. ‘I-I was in a classroom, right? I can’t be in a gate! This has to be some kind of trick.’

  Her self reassurance did not work though, as the new demon saw her tremble, and placed his hands on her shoulder. If he were a human, she might have just gotten annoyed for touching her, but this BEAST’S claws tore trough her soft skin, down her shoulder until it hit her bone! “AHHHHHHHH!”

  Her chair shrieked backward, dragged by instinct alone, the sound slicing the room into silence, and every eye snapping toward her. The demon was startled that she’d reacted, but not startled enough to step away, not even when her pulse kicked into a rhythm to the point she felt like she was going into a panic attack.

  [The Neverending Sheshnag]

  A huge two headed snake appeared behind her. Chairs screeched back, bags dropped, and even the loudest of those damn demons shut up. The imp who hurt her was surrounded by her summon, and he stared at the serpent twisting around him. He looked unnerved and afraid. She wanted him like that, no she wanted much worse for him. She wanted him small, pathetic and dying, with as much suffering as she could inflict upon him.

  ‘Damn it, I was careless.’ Her shoulder throbbed in pain, as it was slowly heating up from the blood that was dripping down her.

  The serpent raised its twin heads, white scales shining like polished pearls and its red eyes narrowing at its prey. To her surprise, the little imp demon put up some strange hand sign, and she felt genuine power from it, though she was still more than certain in her victory. The problem were the other demons…

  There was no way she could finish her thought as the air turned leaden and gray, thick enough to taste metallic at the back of the throat, walls seeming to breathe inward instead of outward, windows rattling like they wanted to shatter, but couldn’t. The voice that followed was firm, human and calm, belonging to someone she had recently met.

  “Miss Magdalene, I understand grief has teeth, but biting your classmate is not a solution.” The serpent froze mid-strike, simply arrested by the sheer intensity of the new arrival, and as Damarise’s mind recalibrated itself, she saw the coils, the scales, the red eyes, were not wrapped around some abyssal demon but around that absolute idiot, Damian, who was currently too calm for the situation he was in.

  She blinked again, vision sharpening reluctantly, and realized there were no demons here, no unholy silhouettes, only her classmates. She wanted to speak, though she couldn’t, so she mumbled her explanation under her breath not caring if anyone could hear her. “I felt claws on my shoulder. I felt them hurt and reach my bone. It hurt like hell… What was that?”

  Damian stared at her like she had just accused him of a war crime, then scoffed. “Preposterous. I would never lay a hand on a woman!” Ethan cut in immediately though, “He did, he put his hand on her in a really creepy way, I saw it with my own two eyes!”

  Damian barked a laugh. “HA HA HA! My good man! Shut up!”

  Thaddeus clapped his hands, and a sharp crack ripped through the room, creating a golden shockwave that rolled out from his palms, flattening loose papers and making the windows hum.

  [Greater Dispel]

  The faint golden shimmer clinging to Damian winked out like a snuffed candle. Behind Damaris, the massive twin heads of The Neverending Sheshnag dissolved into pale mist that drifted up and vanished before it hit the ceiling. ‘Yeah… This much was expected from one of the Twelve Apostles…’

  Damian clicked his tongue, looking more annoyed than embarrassed. He shot Ethan a lazy glare. “Such a lowly action hardly deserved that kind of response, don’t you think? I might understand if I’d actually touched her, but let’s be honest—half the school would kill to be grazed by the hand of Damian Steel. I would have no reason, to, as you say, put my hand on her in a creepy way. As someone who respects all people, no matter their sex, I would never stoop so low as to the actions you might be prone to.”

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  Ethan’s face went red. “The hell is that supposed to mean?!”

  Damian ignored him, and raked fingers through his hair, turning to Thaddeus. “Sir, this kind of thing needs consequences! Think of the image it leaves on the class—no less a day after—”

  “OW OW OW OW!”

  Nephara had his ear in a vice grip, twisting just enough to make his voice crack. Her face was pure boredom, like she’d done this a hundred times. “Pack your shit in your mouth and flush it down, pretty boy. You almost molested her with that fucking hand placement.”

  “Absurd!” Damian snapped, but his eyes flicked to Damaris.

  One look from Nephara was all it took. Damaris let a single fake tear roll down her cheek, voice small. “I… I was scared for my purity…”

  Damian froze mid-step. The room went quieter than before. He stared at her for a second, then exhaled through his nose. “Nevermind. I get your game. You’re lucky your boyfriend lied for you. That being said, as long as you accept my deal, we will be in good regards.”

  He turned sharply and stalked back to his desk, Nephara muttering curses at his retreating back loud enough for half the room to hear. “Walk faster, you walking ego trip. Go stuff your nose in your daddys wallet.”

  But Damaris heard something else—two low, mocking snickers from opposite corners of the classroom. Quiet. Private. Meant only for her. They knew the tear was fake. They knew she didn’t care about purity. And they thought it was hilarious.

  Thaddeus was already at the front, standing by the drawing board so fast it seemed as if he’d teleported there. He shook his head, disappointed by what was happening.

  “CHILDREN,” he boomed, voice cutting every whisper dead. “ENOUGH.”

  He scanned them all, eyes lingering on Damaris for half a second longer than the rest. “Seats. Now. We have topics to discuss, and I’m not wasting another minute on teenage drama.”

  “This level of squabble is ridiculous,” Thaddeus said. “Especially this soon.”

  Eyes darted: Damaris to Damian, Damian to the floor, everyone else anywhere but at each other. The teacher started pacing slow circles around the front desk.

  “Charges of assault,” he said, letting the words hang as his gaze pinned Damaris for a second too long, “or sexual assault,” flicking to Damian, who answered with a loud, pissed-off tongue-click, “are equally ridiculous for today, please be normal for a day. I saw exactly what happened, so this matter ends here.”

  He kept moving. “I would love to send you all home and give you multiple days off, along with real counselors. People who actually know how to handle this kind of mess.” A bitter voice slipped in. “But we don’t get that luxury.”

  A few kids squirmed. Seraphina hugged her arms tighter. Ethan drummed his fingers on his thigh like he wanted to punch something but didn’t know how to not get in trouble for beating up Damian.

  Most of these faces were still strangers to each other—thrown together only yesterday. They had no shared jokes yet, no history nor any chemistry just yet.

  ‘Some of these children do know each other, and that was most apparent with those two girls… I hope Philippa did her job better than I did, because I don’t think I broke through to Damaris…’

  He stopped dead center.

  “Now, I have some good news and some bad news,” he announced. “Take your pick for which you want to hear first.”

  Seraphina spoke first, voice barely above a whisper. “Good, please. I really… I need something good right now.”

  Ethan bolted halfway out of his chair. “Are you nuts? Bad first, good last—everyone knows that!”

  Dragan grunted. “For once the idiot’s right.”

  Haruto just shrugged, slouched so low his hair brushed the desk. “Idiots… It makes no difference.”

  Thaddeus lifted his hand. “Good news first. My rules.”

  “Your class is now the most watched class there is. Many, many sponsors want to throw money at you all, but we need to filter them out, and see who are the ones that want our best interests in heart. We cut out the worst bloodsuckers trying to profit off a corpse, but the rest will hit your rooms tonight. Interviews, endorsements, the works. I’m sure you all have dealt with this dozens of times.”

  A couple kids perked up. Damian’s smirk crawled across his face like he’d personally summoned the attention. Seraphina managed the tiniest relieved breath.

  Then Thaddeus dropped the hammer.

  “The bad news is the same spotlight brings suspicion. Too much money, too many gates, too many questions. And the one who died wasn’t just anyone, but the Rank One. If the strongest of you died so soon, they will need some reassurance.”

  The air chilled fast.

  Damian scoffed loud. “Utterly preposterous.”

  “Not ideal,” Thaddeus said. “But the world wants proof you’re worth it. So tomorrow, there will be a practical test. I know many, many of you thought the written exams were foolish, and just wanted the chance to prove your powers, which will happen in exactly twenty-four hours.”

  You could hear heartbeats.

  Dragan rocked back in his chair, legs kicking out. “I don’t mind kicking some ass, but this whole thing is total fucking bullshit. All this circus because that weak-ass faker croaked.”

  Damaris went still. Her eyes turned into thin, deadly slits and pure hate aimed straight at his throat.

  Nephara didn’t even glance up. She’d been twirling a cheap ballpoint between her fingers like a baton. Without warning she snapped her wrist. The pen cracked across the room and buried its tip an inch into the back leg of Dragan’s chair.

  He was already tilted back, showing off, so falling on his back was the only logical thing that could happen. The impact jerked the chair sideways. He windmilled, crashed backward, skull smacking the corner of the desk behind him with a meaty thud.

  “Krv ti jebem!” he roared, surging up, hand clamped to his head. “Who the fuck did that?!”

  Nephara gave him the laziest, sweetest smile. “Careful leaning back like that, big guy. Wouldn’t want to damage the table with that empty head of yours.”

  Dragan spat on the floor and started toward her, shoulders squared, fists balled. He began walking towards the girl who had mocked him, but one look from Thaddeus froze him mid-step. Dragan actually trembled, veins popping in his neck.

  In a blink the teacher was right there beside him, so fast that nobody saw the move. The whole class sucked in air.

  Thaddeus just reached into his suit pocket, pulled out a fresh white napkin, and held it out.

  “Young Dragan… I hope you didn’t forget what I just said about the drama. We need to be professional, and the classes need to fall back in order as soon as possible. Now, clean up your mess.”

  Dragan stared at the napkin like it was poison as his jaw clenched so hard it looked ready to crack. Then he snatched it, dropped to one knee, and wiped his own spit off the floor while the room watched in dead silence.

  When he finally slumped back into his seat, he threw the crumpled napkin into the garbage bin, rubbing the fresh lump on his skull after doing an impressive shot.