Kenn sat frozen in his bed, the cold touch of the bracelet still lingering on his wrist. The voice that had spoken was still echoing in his ears, a strange, mechanical sound that had sent an ice-cold shiver down his spine.

"Quest activated. Scan the emotions of those around you. Complete the task, or face consequences."

He looked down at his wrist again, half-expecting to see some kind of inscription or symbol, but there was nothing—just the same plain, silver bracelet he had never noticed before. It wasn't particularly large or ornate. In fact, it seemed almost ordinary, if not for the strange sensation it now gave him, like an unspoken weight on his arm.

Scan the emotions?

He tried to ignore the voice, the command, but something inside him urged him to take action. It was like an invisible force, tugging at the back of his mind. The bracelet, somehow, was making it impossible for him to ignore. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, pulling the blanket tighter around his body, but the unease wouldn't leave.

A loud beep broke the silence. The voice, cold and unyielding, sounded again, as though reading his thoughts.

"You have been given a power. Use it or suffer."

What is this? Kenn thought desperately, trying to find any explanation that made sense. But nothing came. The strange command from the system had to mean something—this task, this strange new ability to read emotions—it had to be linked somehow.

He stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of it all. The weight of the task felt suffocating. The idea of scanning people, feeling their emotions, all without them knowing—it felt invasive, wrong. But he couldn't deny it. The bracelet was forcing him to engage. There was no escaping it.

The next day, as he walked into school, the tension in his chest was unbearable. He was hyper-aware of every movement around him. The other students, the teachers—they all seemed oblivious to the invisible weight that hung in the air. But for Kenn, it was as though everything had shifted. His sense of self had been torn apart and scattered into the chaotic mix of emotions that now seemed to permeate the very air.

He couldn't help but glance at Lynn when he entered the classroom. She was already there, sitting at her desk, her wavy brown hair cascading over her shoulders as she bent over her textbook. Her emotions were calm, serene, but there was a hint of sadness just beneath the surface. It wasn't something she wore on her face, but Kenn felt it deep in his chest. Why?

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He didn't want to pry, didn't want to force his way into her thoughts, but the bracelet seemed to compel him forward. Scan her, it whispered. Feel her.

And so, he did.

What he saw wasn't what he expected. Lynn wasn't just sad; she was burdened. The weight of responsibility, the pressure to succeed, to always be the perfect student, the perfect friend—it was there, wrapped tightly around her heart. She didn't show it, of course. She never did. But it was there, beneath her calm exterior, a strain that Kenn could feel pulling at the edges of her soul.

His heart clenched in response. Kenn didn't know what to do with the overwhelming flood of emotions crashing through him. This wasn't just about him anymore. It was about everyone he encountered, everyone he cared about. Every emotion was a story, a thread that connected them all in ways he couldn't possibly untangle.

But his thoughts were interrupted as a sudden burst of manic energy hit him.

Yaoi. Her presence in the room seemed to darken the space around him, even before he turned to face her. The intensity was unmistakable. Her emotions were like a storm brewing—savage, possessive, and dangerously obsessive. She wasn't just fixated on him; she was consumed by the thought of him, like a fire that had no intention of being extinguished.

Kenn's skin crawled as her gaze locked onto his. There was a challenge in her eyes, a knowing look that seemed to dare him to acknowledge her. But he couldn't. Not without the weight of her emotions crashing against him, nearly drowning him in the intensity of it.

Yaoi's eyes narrowed slightly, as if she knew he could feel it too. And then, without a word, she turned her attention to the front of the class, where the teacher was beginning the lesson.

Kenn's head spun. The emotions were too much—Lynn's quiet sadness, Yaoi's suffocating obsession. It felt like he was being pulled in a dozen different directions, torn apart by forces he didn't understand.

The bell rang, signaling the start of the day's lessons, and Kenn stumbled through the motions of class, barely able to concentrate. The emotions swirled around him, like a storm in his chest, making it hard to focus on anything. His classmates whispered, their voices becoming more than just noise in his head; they were emotional signals, fragments of their lives that bled into his own. He could hear their inner turmoil, their desires, their regrets—and it was almost too much to bear.

When lunch came, Kenn found himself sitting outside on the steps, his mind racing. He had to get a handle on this. He had to understand what was happening to him.

"You okay?" Kil's voice broke through the fog of his thoughts, and Kenn looked up to see his friend standing there, a concerned frown on his face.

"Yeah, just... not feeling well," Kenn lied, rubbing his eyes.

Kil didn't seem convinced. He sat down next to him, his gaze sharp, though his usual easygoing demeanor didn't change. "You sure? You've been kind of out of it all day."

"I'm fine," Kenn said again, though he wasn't. It was the emotions, all of them, pushing against him, invading his mind. He couldn't even find the words to explain it.

Kil tilted his head, as though trying to gauge if Kenn was hiding something. "Alright, man. But you know I'm here, right?"

Kenn nodded, though his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't risk letting Kil know. If he found out about the bracelet... about the system... he would be involved, and Kenn didn't know if that was a good idea.

The weight of the bracelet on his wrist seemed to grow heavier as the minutes passed, a constant reminder of the task ahead. The system was watching. It would continue to force him to confront others' emotions until he did something about it.

But what could he do? How could he use this power—or curse—to his advantage?

The answer was a question he wasn't ready to answer yet.

And as the bell rang again, signaling the end of lunch, Kenn's heart sank. This wasn't going to be easy.

He had a feeling the worst was still to come.