The hallway seemed to shrink, the air tightening with tension as she stared me down. Her presence was magnetic—sharp, electric—and impossible to ignore.

She stepped closer, her hands still crackling with that reddish-yellow energy, the glow casting strange shadows on the walls. I couldn’t help but notice how calm she looked on the outside, even though her eyes were anything but.

“You don’t feel it, do you?” she said suddenly, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

“Feel what?” I asked, my throat dry.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Flux.”

That word again. It meant nothing to me, but the way she said it—like it was both an accusation and a revelation—sent a chill down my spine.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, keeping my voice steady even though my pulse was hammering in my ears.

She tilted her head, studying me like I was some kind of puzzle she couldn’t solve. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” I snapped. “I don’t even know who you are or why you’re coming at me like this!”

Her gaze narrowed. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Before I could respond, she lunged again, her glowing fist aimed straight at my chest. I didn’t think—I just reacted. My body twisted to the side, my foot pivoting as I countered with a quick jab. My feet moved like they had a mind of their own, my training kicking in. Boxing was muscle memory for me—something I’d done for years back in Zaria, long before I ended up here. The move was instinctual, years of boxing practice kicking in, but I held back.

Nevertheless, this wasn’t like sparring in the gym. She wasn’t pulling her punches.

Her fist missed me by inches, slamming into the wall with a sound that made my teeth rattle. Dust and plaster crumbled to the floor, and I stumbled back, trying to put distance between us.

“Stop!” I shouted, raising my hands. “What is your problem?”

Her glare was cold, unrelenting. “You’re not normal. You shouldn’t even be standing here.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Her hands flared brighter, the energy around them swirling like liquid fire. “Flux doesn’t lie. And it’s telling me you’re a threat.”

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She lunged again, and this time I wasn’t fast enough. Her fist connected with my forearm as I tried to block, the glow of her Flux lighting up the corridor. I braced for the impact, expecting pain, but...

Nothing.

Her fist bounced off me like she’d hit a wall.

We both froze, her eyes widening as she stared at where her Flux-coated hand had met my skin.

“That’s... not possible,” she whispered, her voice trembling for the first time.

I didn’t know what to say. My arm tingled faintly where she’d hit me, but there was no burn, no pain—just a strange warmth that faded as quickly as it came.

“What did you do?” she demanded, stepping back.

“I didn’t do anything!” I snapped.

Her gaze darted over me, her hands still glowing but less steady now. “Flux affects everything. It’s supposed to disrupt your kind—throw you off balance, weaken you. But you’re just... standing there.”

Her words were a mess of accusations and confusion, but one thing stood out: your kind.

“What do you mean, my kind?” I asked, my voice low.

She hesitated, her brows furrowing as she studied me. “You’re a night creature. A vampire.”

The word hit me like a slap. “I’m not—” I stopped myself.

Was I?

I didn’t feel like the monsters from the stories. I wasn’t thirsty for blood, and I wasn’t hiding in the shadows. I was just... me.

Her eyes scanned me again, and her expression shifted. The confidence, the sharpness—it all softened into something closer to disbelief. “You’re in the sun,” she said, almost to herself.

I glanced at the windows, the sunlight spilling onto the tiled floor. The realization struck me too. If what she said was true—if I was a vampire—then why wasn’t I burning? Why wasn’t I ash?

“And your Flux...” she continued, her voice trailing off. Her eyes flicked to my hands, then back to my face. “It’s there. I can feel it. But it’s... dormant. Untrained. You don’t even know you have it.”

Her words made no sense, but they settled like stones in my chest.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

She hesitated, like she wasn’t sure whether to answer. Finally, she spoke. “Flux is life energy. Everyone has it, but only a few of us can use it. I’ve never felt anything like yours before. It’s raw, unstable... and dangerous.”

I shook my head, trying to process what she was saying. “I don’t have powers. I’m just a kid on a scholarship. I don’t even know what this ‘Flux’ is.”

Her eyes narrowed again, but this time it wasn’t anger—it was suspicion. “That doesn’t explain the bloodlust,” she said. “You directed it at me in class. I felt it.”

I froze. I didn’t know how to respond because she was right. I had felt something in class, something sharp and primal when I saw her. But it wasn’t intentional.

“I didn’t mean to,” I said, the words stumbling out. “I don’t even know what’s happening to me.”

Her gaze softened, but only slightly. She stepped back, lowering her hands. The glow of her Flux dimmed, fading into nothing.

“You’re a mess,” she muttered, almost to herself. Then she looked at me again, her expression unreadable. “But you’re not lying. At least, I don’t think you are.”

For a moment, the hallway was silent.

“What now?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She crossed her arms, her gaze still wary but less hostile. “Now? We figure out what you are. Because whatever you are... you’re not supposed to exist.”

Her words sent a chill down my spine. I didn’t know what was worse—the fact that she saw me as a threat or the possibility that she was right.