Maxwell’s gaze found Iris the moment he stepped into the gym. It was as if his instincts screamed that she was the one—his answer, his ally. There was a strange magnetism about her, a silent pull that gnawed at him from within, urging him to make his move. But another presence demanded his attention. His eyes flicked to Cynthia, standing off to the side. Her normally vibrant demeanor was dulled, a sickly paleness clinging to her as she trembled ever so slightly.
Something was wrong.
With deliberate steps, Maxwell approached her, concern tightening his features. “Cynthia, are you sure you're up for this?” he asked, his voice low and steady. “You don’t look well.”
“I… It’s… It’s fine,” Cynthia stammered, her voice wavering as she struggled to form the words. “I’m fine, really, there’s no need to worry.” She clutched her arm tightly to her chest, trying to conceal it.
But Maxwell had already noticed. He reached out, gently pulling her arm into view. The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. A portion of her skin had darkened and shriveled, taking on a texture like withered leather or dried meat. It was blackened and cracked, as though some corrosive energy was slowly eating away at her. Worse still, the surrounding air seemed to thrum with a malevolent aura, a wrongness that prickled at the edges of his senses.
“What is this?” Maxwell demanded, his eyes narrowing as he examined the afflicted area. “You’re not fine. This isn’t normal.”
Cynthia’s eyes widened, panic flashing across her face. She pulled her arm back, almost recoiling from his touch. “Please, don’t say anything,” she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m already dragging the class down as it is. Just… don’t tell anyone. Please.”
Maxwell hesitated, his instincts urging him to alert the teachers. Yet, the desperation in her voice struck a chord within him. “Fine,” he relented, his tone softening, “I won’t say anything. But I’m telling the teachers after the event.”
Her tense expression loosened, a tear slipping down her cheek as she forced a grateful smile. “Thank you. I promise I won’t be a burden. I won’t hold you all back.”
But even as she spoke, a cold whisper slithered through her mind like a serpent. “Yes, you will. You can’t accomplish anything, you're a failure.” The voice was taunting, malevolent. It echoed in her ears as if the very shadows around her had come alive to mock her. She spun around, expecting to see someone there, but the space behind her was empty—nothing but air.
Maxwell's frown deepened as he caught the flicker of unease in her expression. “Are you sure you're feeling alright?” he pressed, his tone a mix of worry and skepticism.
Cynthia quickly regained her composure, her voice steady but her eyes betraying a hint of fear. “Of course. I'm just tired, that’s all. Don’t worry about me—just focus on the event.”
Maxwell nodded slowly, though the knot in his stomach tightened. He knew there was more to Cynthia's condition than she was letting on, but now wasn’t the time to push further. His attention drifted back to Iris, the inexplicable connection between them still burning in the back of his mind.
Something was coming. He could feel it, like a storm gathering on the horizon. And as he looked at Cynthia's darkened arm, he knew that whatever it was, it had already begun to touch their lives.
Minutes later, Wallace walked into the gym, his familiar tired expression as ever-present as the bags under his eyes. He pushed up his glasses with a sigh, looking as though he would much rather be anywhere else.
“I've been requested to be here in case any of you sustain injuries worth healing,” he announced dryly. “Also, Jonathan, I've left Markus in my office with enough distractions to keep him busy. With Ivan around, I know he'll be trying to bet on which student wins.”
“Oh, come on, Wallace,” Ivan grinned, leaning back in his seat. “He’s my gambling buddy. It's tradition.”
“The only reason you say that is because my brother is a horrendous gambler,” Wallace replied, shaking his head. “He couldn't win a coin toss even if it were weighted in his favor.”
Jonathan folded his arms, giving Ivan a pointed look. “Stop betting on children, or I'll dock your pay,” he warned.
Ivan snorted. “I don’t even work for you, Jonathan. If you have an issue, take it up with Octavian or Frank. They sign my checks, not you, you annoying cheapskate.”
As the teachers found their seats in the bleachers, the atmosphere in the gym shifted. The actual event was still a short while away, but the anticipation in the air was palpable. Students from both classes took this time to huddle together, whispering strategies and sizing up their opponents from across the room.
Mrs. Stone approached her students with a confident smile, Anastasia trailing behind her with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Alright, my little troublemakers,” Mrs. Stone began, her tone both warm and firm. “I know each of you has your own strengths. Trust in those, and trust in each other. You’ve got this.”
Anastasia laughed, patting Mrs. Stone on the shoulder. “I haven’t seen all of you in action, but if the rest of you are as tough as Iris and Anya, there’s no way you’ll lose.” She grinned a glint of competitive fire in her eyes. “Show those Beta Facility kids what you're made of.”
“They’re a skilled bunch, my students this year,” Mrs. Stone said proudly. Her gaze swept over them, and even with her composed demeanor, there was no hiding the pride gleaming in her eyes.
As the group talked, Xavier, standing a little ways back, was beginning to nod off. His eyelids fluttered shut, and his head bobbed forward. Mrs. Stone, noticing him drifting off, sighed and conjured a ball of water, hurling it at him. The water splashed across his face, jolting him back to consciousness.
“Wake up, Xavier,” she said, her voice laced with mock sternness. “If you manage to eliminate even one of their students, I’ll personally reward you with an entire bag of candy. I know how much you love your sweets. So, what do you say?”
Xavier’s eyes snapped open at the mention of candy, his drowsiness fading away. The surrounding air chilled, frost forming on the gym floor as his ability flared to life. “I’ll eliminate all of them if that’s what it takes,” he said, his voice icy with determination.
“Good,” Mrs. Stone said with a nod. “That’ll keep you from trying to get yourself disqualified on purpose.”
Anastasia watched the interaction with an amused expression. “So, just to clarify,” she began, glancing at Mrs. Stone. “Betting which class will win is a no, but bribing students is perfectly acceptable? Got it.”
Mrs. Stone shrugged with a sly smile. “Bribing students isn’t wrong—it’s just strategic motivation.”
Ivan strode over to his students, the rhythmic clacking of his skeletal joints drawing their attention as he approached. The sight of a skeleton casually discussing strategy still unnerved some Alpha Facility students, but they were learning to mask their curiosity behind composed expressions. He cast his hollow gaze over them, his voice dry and steady.
“So, tell me,” Ivan began, crossing his bony arms, “are you confident you can win?”
Maxwell glanced at his teammates before speaking up, his tone thoughtful yet resolute. “Several of them are dangerous—especially the pink-haired girl. We need to prioritize her and take her out first.”
Ivan nodded approvingly, a faint clatter as his jaw shifted. “I’ll trust your judgment. Your instincts are incredibly good. From what I’ve seen, at least four of their six students are monsters in their own right. As for the other two, those twins may not be as overwhelming, but their teamwork is likely top-notch.”
Sarah and Emily, the Beta Facility’s own twin duo, exchanged a confident glance. “We’re not worried,” they said in unison, smirking. “Those siblings won’t be better than us.”
Maxwell’s gaze hardened as he assessed the opposing class. “There’s one who’s ice-cold… literally. His power feels dangerous,” Noah remarked, rubbing his arms as if warding off a chill. “The surrounding temperature dropped in an instant. It’s like he’s channeling a glacier.”
“Wasn’t he falling asleep just a moment ago?” Ashe chimed in, her brow furrowed in disbelief. “He looked ready to doze off, but now it’s like a froststorm is swirling around him.”
Rook shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting to another figure. “I’m more concerned about the girl with the hair that reminds me of a half-moon cookie. Something about her feels… unnatural.” His voice was hushed, his eyes narrowing as he focused on Iris. “It’s like she’s hiding something.”
Cynthia’s voice was soft as she spoke up, her tone carrying a hint of dread. “No matter what, this game won’t be easy.” Her complexion was still unnaturally pale, and she clutched her sleeve to conceal the discolored patches creeping up her arm.
Ivan’s empty eye sockets fixed on her, a semblance of concern somehow radiating from his hollow expression. “Cynthia, you look paler than me, and I’m literally made of bones. That’s not a good sign.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“I’m fine,” she replied quickly, her voice strained. “Maybe I’m coming down with something, but I’ll rest tomorrow. Today’s too important for us to be a person down.”
Maxwell glanced at her from the corner of his eye, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “Terrible liar,” he muttered, noting the way she avoided eye contact.
Ivan’s gaze lingered on Cynthia, his voice taking on a rare note of seriousness. “If things get too much for you, I’ll pull you from the match myself. No arguments.”
The tension in the air thickened as the Beta Facility students steeled themselves, their nerves settling into a tense anticipation. Ivan’s bony fingers drummed against his arm, as if tapping out the countdown to the coming clash. “You’ve got your plan,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “Now, let’s see if you can execute it.”
On the side of the Alpha Facility, the students stared at their opponents, a jumble of thoughts racing through their minds as they tried to size up the competition. Whispers and murmurs broke out as they took in the strange, almost otherworldly appearances of the Beta Facility students.
“That boy has cat ears… it’s actually really adorable,” Alice commented, her voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and fascination.
Charles shook his head, his expression twisting into mild disgust as he pointed across the gym. “Forget the cat ears—look at that guy with the horns. I’m pretty sure his arms turned into tentacles a minute ago… that’s seriously creepy.”
Iris narrowed her eyes, her focus locked on one figure among the crowd. “Forget the tentacles,” she said, her tone steady. “The real threat is the boy with the angelic wings. He’s the strongest one here.”
Anya grinned, crossing her arms as she glanced sideways at Iris. “I agree. Your instincts are sharp as always, my dear friend.”
Iris turned and shot Anya a cold glare, flames beginning to flicker faintly around her fingertips. “We’re not friends. And if you keep talking like that, I might just ‘accidentally’ hit you in the back with a fireball.”
“Such hostility,” Anya said with a mocking pout. “Though I suppose I could use one of my dolls to pin you down while our enemies pelt you with dodgeballs. It’d be entertaining.”
“Will you two knock it off?” Theo interjected, his voice stern but laced with concern. “You’re scaring Celia.”
Celia giggled softly, shaking her head at her brother’s worry. “I’m fine, Theo. It’s actually pretty funny watching them argue.”
The playful banter was cut short as Jacob came sprinting over from the bleachers, practically bouncing with excitement. “Come on, guys! We’ve got this!” he shouted, beaming at his classmates. “Our class is definitely going to win!”
Charles remained unconvinced, casting a skeptical glance at the Beta Facility team. “I still can’t get over how weird they all look. Why do they look like that?”
Mrs. Stone stepped forward, a mischievous glint in her eye. “That’s a trade secret,” she said with a smirk. “Become an official member and maybe you’ll find out.”
Charles huffed, folding his arms across his chest. “You know, if you keep dodging the question, I might just throw this game,” he threatened, raising an eyebrow. “With my ability, it’d be easy to make the balls miss on purpose.”
Before Mrs. Stone could respond, Iris stepped up beside him, her voice low and dangerous. “Try that, and I’ll hit you so hard you’ll wish I had just set you on fire.” A small flame danced around her clenched fist, casting a fiery glow over her stern expression.
Charles flinched, backing away slightly. “Okay, okay! I was just kidding. Don’t be mad.”
“Thanks for stepping in, Iris,” Mrs. Stone said, letting out a deep sigh. “But please, no more fighting amongst yourselves. We’re here to take on the other team, not each other.”
The tension in the group slowly dissipated as they turned their attention back to the Beta Facility students. The atmosphere in the gym was electric, charged with anticipation as the clock ticked down to the start of the event.
Iris clenched her fists, her gaze returning to the Maxwell.
Up in the bleachers, the conversation between Baal, Wallace, and Jonathan took on a casual air, despite the weight of the topic.
“So, which team do you think has the upper hand?” Baal asked with a playful glint in his eye.
“Naturally, I’m rooting for my students,” Jonathan replied, crossing his arms as he surveyed the gym. “The Alpha Facility has always been a cut above the rest.”
Baal smirked. “Care to bet on it? I’m confident the Beta Facility students will take the victory. What about you, Sleepy Eyes?” he asked, glancing at Wallace.
Wallace let out a long, tired sigh. “I’ve already had to deal with one gambling addict today. Why do I have to put up with a second one? I thought you were supposed to be the Gluttonous Monarch, not the Greedful one.”
“No, no, the Greedful one was the bastard who killed me,” Baal chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with a mixture of admiration and resentment. “That clever fiend trapped me in an infinite death loop. I devoured the concept of death repeatedly, but eventually, it just became too much for me to handle.”
Jonathan's gaze shifted toward Baal, his curiosity piqued. “It’s interesting to hear you reminisce about such things. You’re quite nostalgic for a demon.”
Baal's expression softened, a wistful look crossing his face. “It’s a shame, really. Things took a drastic turn for the Abyss. The balance is unraveling, and with each Blood Moon, the worlds of Gaia and the Abyss are merging. The fusion will progress further and faster with every cycle.”
“Wait, merging?” Jonathan's brows furrowed as he processed the implications. “We knew the Blood Moon was causing things to get worse. But you’re saying it's a full-scale convergence?”
“That’s right,” Baal nodded gravely. “Every time the Blood Moon rises, the barriers weaken and the two realms overlap a little more. Soon, they may become inseparable.”
“That’s truly troubling,” Wallace remarked, rubbing his chin in thought. “The chaos could become unimaginable if we don't do something.”
“If I were to reclaim my throne as Demon King, at the very least, I could create a world where our species could coexist,” Baal continued, his tone surprisingly sincere. “I like this world, you know. There’s a certain… vibrancy here.”
Jonathan tilted his head, the hint of a smirk forming on his lips. “You seem rather taken with the human realm. But why, of all people, are you so infatuated with Mia? You'd think a demon would prefer another demon.”
Wallace chuckled dryly. “Yeah, someone like that psycho Anastasia.”
Baal's eyes gleamed with amusement. “So you humans could actually tell? That woman’s demonic aura is thick, even for me to ignore.”
Wallace blinked in surprise. “Wait, what? That was a joke!”
Baal grinned wider, savoring their bewilderment. “Oh, she’s a demon, alright. And not just any demon. She has the scent of a high-ranking one. I doubt she’s a Sin or one of the seventy-two Lords, but she’s definitely up there—likely a four-star demon. If she’s taken an Awakened’s body, she could possess up to five abilities in total.”
Jonathan and Wallace exchanged a glance, the seriousness of the situation sinking in. “This… changes things,” Jonathan said slowly. “We might need to report this to the boss.”
“Why bother?” Baal waved dismissively. “She’s no threat. If anything, I can only sense regret from her. Besides, your council’s filled with creatures far worse than demons. Let the woman be.”
“Fine,” Wallace grumbled. “It’s not like Jonathan’s eager to lose another combat teacher anyway.”
Jonathan shot him a look before turning his attention back to Baal. “You sidestepped the question earlier. Why Mia? What makes you so fixated on her? Surely there’s more to it than just a taste for corruption.”
Baal's lips curled into a mischievous grin. “Who's to say?” he replied, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.
“Answer the question, you insufferable demon,” Jonathan insisted, a note of irritation creeping into his tone.
Baal's grin faded slightly as he rubbed his lower lip thoughtfully. “Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure myself,” he admitted, his tone uncharacteristically pensive. “When I kissed her, I was only looking to savor the corruption festering inside her—a treat for my palate, you could say. But then… something happened. It wasn’t just a fleeting hunger. I found myself drawn to her in a way I hadn’t felt before. I’ve kissed plenty of women, seduced them, devoured their despair. Yet for some reason, she’s the only one who lingers in my mind.”
Wallace raised an eyebrow. “A demon experiencing love at first sight. This world just keeps throwing surprises at us.”
Baal chuckled, the sound low and almost wistful. “Love? Perhaps. Or maybe it’s just a maddening obsession. Whatever it is, it’s strong enough that I want to understand it. I want to understand her. Tell me, what would it take to get her to fall in love with me?”
Jonathan leaned back, folding his arms. “Honestly? I think you’re already partway there, though it’s just a spark for now. She’s not going to admit it anytime soon, though—especially not to herself.”
“Don’t look at me,” Wallace interjected, raising his hands. “I’m terrible with this kind of thing. Any girlfriend I’ve ever had ended up… well, not making it back from missions. You’d be better off asking Markus if you want advice on how not to do it.”
“Yeah, like Markus is any better,” Jonathan snorted. “One of his ex-girlfriends is on top of our most-wanted list.”
Wallace let out a long sigh. “Scarlet… I wonder how she’s doing these days. Hopefully not causing too much chaos.”
Before the conversation could delve any deeper into old flames and regrets, Jonathan stood up and walked to the center of the gymnasium. His voice cut through the hum of chatter, grabbing the attention of the students and teachers alike.
“Alright, everyone! Teachers, back to your seats,” he called out. “The event is about to start. I’ll explain the rules first.”
Anastasia’s voice echoed from the bleachers. “Pretty sure the kids know how to play dodgeball, Johnny,” she said with a smirk.
Jonathan shot her an annoyed glance. “Obviously. But we've made some changes to accommodate for, you know, their abilities. Also, Anastasia, do me a favor and shut up.”
She snickered but didn't interrupt again, for now.
Jonathan continued, his voice carrying over the gym. “The rules are simple. You're allowed to use your abilities to attack other students. If we determine that your attacks are too dangerous, the teachers will step in and stop you. As with standard dodgeball, if a ball hits you, you’re out. But to keep things interesting, catching a ball won't eliminate the person who threw it. If you manage to catch one, you stay in the game, even if it hits you first.”
He paused for a moment, letting the students absorb the new rules before finishing. “And finally, you're allowed to cross over to the other side of the court, but if you do, you won’t be allowed to throw any dodgeballs.”
“Can we just get started already?” Anastasia called out, her voice brimming with impatience. “You're taking forever!”
Jonathan’s eye twitched. “If you interrupt me one more time, I swear—” He stopped himself, exhaling slowly to regain his composure. “Anyway, that's enough of that. The rules are set. Begin whenever you're ready!”