The wind howled outside the classroom window, rattling the glass in short bursts. Raven Veyrin sat in the back row, his dark eyes half-lidded, taking in the classroom around him with quiet detachment. His mind wasn’t fully engaged with the physics lecture that droned on, nor with the professor’s explanation of theories most students found complex. For Raven, they were laughably simple. But the true center of his attention was something else entirely.
His instincts stirred, subtly but persistently. Something was about to happen. He could feel it—a shift in the air, a tension not easily explained.
Get up.
His pulse quickened, a cold surge of adrenaline flooding his veins. Without thinking, Raven rose from his seat. His chair scraped loudly against the floor, causing a few heads to turn in his direction. The teacher paused mid-sentence, raising an eyebrow.
“Mr. Veyrin, is there something you’d like to share with the class?” the professor asked, his voice laced with mild irritation. The rest of the class watched him now, their gazes a mixture of curiosity and confusion.
Raven’s eyes flicked toward the door, his mind already far from the classroom. Go outside. Now.
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“I… I need to use the restroom,” he said calmly, his voice steady as he walked toward the door without waiting for a response. He could feel every eye on him, but he didn’t care. The moment his hand gripped the cold metal of the door handle, the weight in the air around him grew heavier, more pressing. Raven stepped out into the hallway, the muffled hum of voices behind him fading as the door clicked shut.
The hallway was eerily quiet, the walls lined with lockers and faded posters for upcoming events. His footsteps echoed softly on the polished floors, every sound amplifying the tension gnawing at him. That’s when he felt it—a nearly tangible weight in the air, like an unseen force pressing down. His instincts flared, sharper now, clearer than before.
Turn left.
Without hesitation, Raven obeyed. He turned left, heading down an unlit stretch of hallway toward an empty wing of the building, the air around him thick with anticipation. Each step seemed to draw him closer to whatever he was being pulled toward, as though an invisible hand was guiding him forward.
The further he walked, the stronger the sensation grew. It was as if something—someone—was waiting for him, and the feeling intensified with every passing second. Raven’s eyes narrowed as he continued down the corridor, his mind focused, every sense sharpened.
Then, he saw him.
A man in a black coat stood at the far end of the hallway. His face was obscured by shadows, his posture unnaturally still. The presence was wrong—something about him didn’t belong here. Raven’s instincts screamed, Danger.
The man’s head tilted slightly, an almost imperceptible motion, but Raven could feel the silent acknowledgment. The man was aware of him. And yet, there was no surprise, no rush of confrontation—just a strange calm.
Raven’s pulse quickened, his body tensing in preparation. His lips curled into a slight smirk, the familiar surge of excitement mixing with the sharp edge of his instincts.
Let’s see what you’ve got.
The man lunged.