The classroom buzzed with its usual pre-lesson chatter as Victor and Nate walked in, the latter carrying a bottle of soda and a pack of chips he had swiped from the vending machine. The moment they stepped through the door, however, the hum of conversation shifted. Students turned to stare, their whispers rising like the tide.

Victor felt the weight of every glance, every murmur, and every sidelong smirk. He kept his eyes forward, his jaw tight as he followed Nate to their seats. It wasn’t hard to guess what the whispers were about. News traveled fast at Hawthorn High, and gym class had provided plenty of fuel for the rumor mill.

Rhea was at her usual spot at the back of the room, bent over her desk as she worked on some intricate contraption. Her Etherion tool buzzed faintly as she soldered tiny components into place, her brow furrowed in concentration. She glanced up when Victor and Nate approached, her sharp green eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Victor’s disheveled state.

“What happened to you?” she asked, setting her tool down. Her voice was curious but edged with concern. “You look like you just fought a hurricane.”

Victor hesitated, sliding into the seat beside her. He fumbled with the hem of his gym shirt, unsure how to start. Nate, however, had no such hesitation.

“Not a hurricane,” Nate said with a grin, plopping down in the seat in front of them. “But close. Victor here had quite the day in gym class.”

Rhea arched an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “Yeah, I heard. People are saying you took on half the class and won. What’s that about?”

Victor groaned, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not what it sounds like.”

“Oh, it’s exactly what it sounds like,” Nate said, cracking open his soda. “He went full-on martial arts prodigy and wiped the floor with a couple of loudmouths.”

“That’s... impressive?” Rhea said, her voice laced with confusion. “But why is everyone making such a big deal out of it?”

Victor stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on the desk. He could feel Rhea’s eyes on him, searching for an answer. When he didn’t respond, Nate leaned back in his chair, his grin fading slightly.

“They’re making a big deal,” Nate said slowly, “because Victor doesn’t have an affinity.”

Rhea blinked, her expression shifting from curiosity to surprise. “Wait. What?”

Victor exhaled, finally looking up. “It’s true. I don’t have an affinity.”

Rhea stared at him for a moment, her brows furrowing as she processed the information. “But you said—”

“I lied,” Victor admitted, his voice quiet. “On my first day here. I didn’t want people treating me like... well, like they’re treating me now.”

The weight of the admission settled heavily between them. Rhea’s face softened, her curiosity replaced by something gentler, though her tone remained firm. “So all this time, you’ve been fighting without an affinity?”

Victor nodded. “Pretty much.”

“And you still held your own against people with powers?” she asked, her voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and admiration.

Victor shrugged. “I didn’t have a choice.”

Rhea leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Okay, that’s... a lot to take in. But why didn’t you just tell me? Or Nate?”

Victor glanced at Nate, who was unusually quiet. “I didn’t know how. It’s not exactly something people look past.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Nate muttered, his usual grin replaced with a more subdued expression. “I yelled at him in the middle of the match to use his affinity, and he just... couldn’t.”

“I wasn’t trying to lie to either of you,” Victor said, his voice low but earnest. “I just didn’t want to deal with the fallout.”

Rhea tilted her head, studying him. “And now you are.”

“Yeah,” Victor said, a faint, bitter smile tugging at his lips. “Now I am.”

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The room around them grew quieter as students settled in for the lesson, but Rhea and Nate remained focused on Victor. Finally, Rhea let out a sigh, running a hand through her auburn hair.

“Well,” she said, her tone lighter, “if nothing else, you’ve definitely gotten everyone’s attention.”

Victor blinked at her, caught off guard. “That’s... not really a good thing.”

“It is if you use it right,” she said, offering him a faint smile. “No affinity, and you still beat them? That’s going to mess with their heads.”

Nate grinned, his usual humor returning. “Yeah, man. You’re basically a superhero already. Just without the cape.”

Victor let out a small laugh despite himself. “You two are way too optimistic about this.”

“Someone has to be,” Rhea said with a shrug, picking up her Etherion tool again. “Anyway, you should get used to the whispers. People love a good story, and you’ve just become the main character.”

Victor groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Great. Just what I needed.”

The bell rang, cutting off any further conversation. As the teacher began the lesson, Victor felt the tension in his chest ease slightly. Maybe the day wasn’t a total disaster after all.

Victor gathered his books, preparing to leave the classroom as the final bell rang. The day had been exhausting, and he was more than ready to retreat into solitude. Just as he reached the door, a deep, commanding voice called out to him from across the hall.

"Campbell. A word, if you don’t mind."

Victor turned, startled. Standing in the doorway of the adjacent classroom was Mr. Malcolm Vane, the history teacher. Mr. Vane was a towering figure, both literally and figuratively. His reputation preceded him—a man who once held the record for the highest score ever achieved in the Trials, a former general in the Etherion Enforcers, and widely regarded as one of the strongest individuals in the world. His sharp, silver-gray eyes seemed to pierce through the very air, and his voice carried a quiet authority that silenced even the most unruly students.

Victor hesitated. Being singled out by someone like Mr. Vane was never a casual matter. Swallowing his nervousness, he stepped into the history classroom.

The room was lined with bookshelves, filled with ancient tomes and relics of battles long past. Maps of the world—both modern and from eras gone by—adorned the walls. A globe sat on a corner of the teacher’s desk, alongside stacks of papers and an ornate Etherion compass, a relic from Mr. Vane’s military days. The space exuded both knowledge and power, a testament to its occupant.

Mr. Vane gestured toward a seat near his desk. “Sit.”

Victor obeyed, lowering himself into the chair with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. Mr. Vane, dressed impeccably in a dark suit, leaned against his desk, arms crossed. He studied Victor for a long moment before speaking.

“I heard about what happened in gym class,” Mr. Vane said, his voice steady and measured.

Victor tensed. Of course word had spread, but knowing it had reached Mr. Vane made the embarrassment feel all the more acute. He opened his mouth to respond, but Mr. Vane held up a hand, stopping him.

“Let me finish,” the teacher said. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

Victor blinked, surprised by the unexpected statement.

“Standing your ground in a place like this, where people value power above all else, takes guts,” Mr. Vane continued. “I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that kind of scrutiny. To be judged not for who you are, but for what you can—or can’t—do.”

Victor frowned slightly, unsure of what to say. “With respect, sir, you’re one of the strongest people on the planet. How could you possibly understand?”

Mr. Vane’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. “Because, Campbell, I don’t have an affinity either.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. Victor’s eyes widened. “You… you don’t have an affinity?”

Mr. Vane nodded, his expression calm but resolute. “Never did. Never will. I was born without one, just like you.”

Victor’s mind reeled. Mr. Vane’s reputation, his accolades, his achievements—how could someone without an affinity have risen to such heights?

“But…” Victor struggled to find the words. “You scored the highest in the Trials. You were a general. How—?”

“How did I achieve all that without an affinity?” Mr. Vane finished for him, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “The answer is simple: I didn’t let my limitations define me. I worked harder, thought smarter, and refused to let anyone tell me what I couldn’t do.”

Victor stared at him, the weight of those words sinking in. For so long, he had felt like he was walking a path no one else could understand, but here was someone who had not only walked it but conquered it.

“You’ve got potential, Campbell,” Mr. Vane said, his tone firm but encouraging. “Not because of what you lack, but because of what you’ve shown. Resourcefulness. Determination. And most importantly, the ability to think beyond the box that people want to put you in.”

Victor sat up straighter, the knot in his chest loosening slightly. “So… what are you saying, sir?”

“I’m saying that you’ve got a choice,” Mr. Vane replied, his silver-gray eyes locking onto Victor’s. “You can let the world tell you what you’re worth—or you can decide that for yourself.”

Victor nodded slowly, the words resonating deeply. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a flicker of something he hadn’t dared to let himself feel: hope.

Mr. Vane stepped away from the desk, moving to the window where the late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds. “I’ll be watching you, Campbell,” he said, his back to Victor. “And if you’re serious about proving them all wrong, my door is always open.”

Victor rose from his seat, his heart pounding with a mix of gratitude and determination. “Thank you, sir.”

Mr. Vane turned, his gaze softer now. “Don’t thank me yet. The path you’re on is a hard one. But if you’re willing to walk it, you might just surprise yourself.”

Victor nodded again, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I won’t let you down.”

As he left the classroom, the weight on his shoulders felt just a little lighter. For the first time in a long time, Victor felt like he wasn’t entirely alone.