Wednesday at noon, the Riverdale High debate club was more packed than ever. Veronica Lodge had officially joined that very morning and was already dominating the room with her presence. Seated next to Betty, she crossed her legs elegantly and jotted down ideas with an expensive fountain pen while the teacher discussed topics for the upcoming tournament.
Malachai was in the back row, as always, watching in silence. Betty had asked him to come "in case she needed moral support." Veronica turned her head toward him once, but her glance was brief and respectful. She could read the room; she had noticed the way Betty looked at Malachai when she thought no one was watching. And Veronica wasn't the type to step on someone else's territory.
Cheryl Blossom, who had shown up "out of curiosity" (or to keep an eye on the newcomer), was leaning against the doorframe. When the teacher finished speaking and everyone began packing up, Cheryl let out a sarcastic laugh that cut through the air.
"Wow, you adapt fast, Lodge." She said, crossing her arms and staring straight at Veronica. "You've been here two days and you're already glued to Betty like you've been best friends forever. What's next? Are you joining the volunteering club too, or do you just want to steal the spotlight from the town's perfect girl?"
Veronica smiled without flinching, swiveling her chair gracefully to face her head on.
"Jealous, Blossom? How cute. I didn't realize my arrival mattered so much to you… or Betty's spotlight." She paused, her voice sweet but razor-sharp. "Relax, I didn't come to steal anything. Just to win. And if that includes earning a place in this club… well, better for everyone."
Betty turned bright red up to her ears and dropped her gaze to her notebook, uncomfortable with being the center of attention.
Cheryl took a step forward, venomous smile in place.
"I don't care about your arrival, darling. I care that you don't come here pretending you're the club's savior… or trying to steal my spotlight. This place already has enough drama without some New York outsider coming to 'improve' it."
Veronica raised an eyebrow.
"Drama? Seems like you're the main source. If a new person joining the club bothers you so much, maybe you should ask yourself why you feel threatened."
Cheryl let out another short laugh.
"Threatened? Please. I just find it amusing watching new girls arrive thinking they can conquer the place without effort. Betty already has her circle. She doesn't need a city snake coming to 'expand' it."
Malachai, who until that moment had remained silent, slowly stood up. He walked forward unhurriedly, stopping near Betty as if his intervention was only meant to support her in the middle of the exchange.
"The debate club isn't a throne to conquer." He said in a low, calm voice, looking first at Cheryl and then at Veronica. "It's a place to discuss ideas, not to argue about who's in charge. If you keep going like this, the only debate you'll win is which of you wastes more time fighting… and the club loses both of you."
Betty looked up at him, grateful for the subtle intervention and for redirecting the focus back to the club's real purpose.
Veronica let out a soft laugh, impressed.
"You're right, Malachai. Let's save the fights for after the tournament."
Cheryl narrowed her eyes, irritated but intrigued. "And what do you know about winning debates, Walker? Are you the club's official mediator now?"
Malachai met her gaze directly, tone unchanged.
"I know debates are won with facts, not with who yells the loudest. And that if you keep this up, the club loses its best members… and no one wins."
Cheryl crossed her arms, but the spark in her eyes was pure challenge… and something else. She wasn't used to being put in her place so quickly, and it bothered her… and intrigued her.
Veronica looked at Betty with a conspiratorial smile.
"Your friend is right, Betty. Let's leave the fights for after the tournament."
At the end of the meeting, as everyone was leaving, Veronica approached Malachai and Betty naturally.
"Hey, Betty… and you, Malachai." She said, looking at him with respect. "If you ever need help with anything school related… or just want to talk, I'm around." She gave Betty a genuine smile. "I like you, Betty. And I can see you have good taste in friends."
She held her phone out to Malachai.
"Give me your number. Just in case I need local advice. Nothing more."
Malachai handed it over without hesitation. Veronica typed quickly and returned it with a friendly wink.
Cheryl passed by at that moment, brushing his arm "accidentally."
"Don't get too comfortable, Walker." She whispered just for him. "Girls like us aren't easy to tame."
Malachai raised an eyebrow and gave her a cold smile.
"I never said I wanted to tame them. I just like a challenge."
Cheryl paused for a second, surprised, then kept walking with her head high. But Malachai noticed the faint blush on her cheeks and the way she glanced back once more.
As Malachai left the school, he still didn't have a clear plan in his head for how to draw them in, but both would eventually fall. He knew it.
That same afternoon, Malachai drove to a deep clearing in the woods, far from any road or house. No one would interrupt him here.
He parked the truck and got out. He focused.
First, telekinesis. He looked at the entire vehicle nearly two tons and it rose off the ground with a faint metallic creak. He held it suspended a full meter in the air for almost a minute before gently lowering it.
"Much better." He murmured.
Then he tested his flight.
He concentrated on his own body. His feet left the ground. Three meters, five, ten. This time he didn't wobble. He floated steadily, turned in the air with complete control, and descended smoothly.
But what came next was new.
Suddenly, the world around him slowed down. The leaves falling from the tree took seconds to descend. A bird flying nearby was practically frozen in mid air. Malachai could see every detail, every movement, as if time belonged to him.
Altered time perception.
This was another of the advantages granted by the spacecraft. Now, in combat, everyone would move in slow motion for him.
He smiled coldly.
"Perfect."
As he walked back toward the vehicle, something caught his eye on the hood.
A red balloon.
Tied to the windshield wiper, floating gently even though there was no wind. In the center, written in what looked like dried blood.
"Soon you will float with me, Malachai. And I will bring all those around you to watch as I eat you alive."
Malachai ripped the balloon off with his hand. The latex burst between his fingers, leaving a sticky red stain.
Pennywise already knew his name.
And had just declared war on him.
Malachai stared at the dark forest surrounding him and spoke quietly, though he knew the clown could hear him.
"Come whenever you want, clown. Just make sure to bring enough balloons… because you're going to need them to pick up your pieces."
He started his truck and drove away, leaving the clearing behind.