The boy awoke on his bed, tired and wanting to go back to sleep. How did he know it was his bed? It was due to the soft sheets and tough pillow that made him wanna put his head on the bed instead.
Yesterday must've just been a dream, that's why he woke up in his bed.
He'd had vivid dreams before, that tricked him into believing they were real, but this one was way too vivid. He still wasn't entirely sure that it was a dream, but it had to be right?
The boy's eyes lingered on the ceiling for a moment, chest rising and falling unevenly.
Right.
A dream was all it was, there was no girl trying to kill him, there was no giant samurai, all of that was just his imagination.
Just his brain messing with him after no sleep.
"…Yeah," he muttered, dragging a hand down his tired face. "Makes sense."
The early morning light leaked through the cracked blinds, painting thin gold lines across his room. Everything looked normal. His desk. His chair. The pile of clothes he never bothered folding. The girl sitting in his chair.
Everything was completely normal... Wait there was a girl sitting in his chair!?
It wasn't just some random girl he'd never seen before.
It was her
the girl from yesterday. The girl who stabbed him.
Three seconds. His brain had stalled for three seconds, completely unable to understand what the hell he was seeing.
"…Nah."
He blinked, but she was still there.
"…Nah."
He rubbed his eyes harder this time, this must've just been a trick of the light that he was falling for because his eyes were still groggy after sleep.
Nope, she was still there.
"…Nah."
She tilted her head slightly, watching him like he was the weird one here.
"…You done?" she asked flatly.
He didn't scream, he didn't run, he didn't react.
At least not immediately anyway
Instead, he slowly leaned back, pulled his blanket up to his chin, and stared at her like if he stayed still enough, she might disappear.
"…I'm dreaming," he said.
"Nope."
"…Hallucinating."
"Nope."
"…Dead?"
"Unfortunately not."
That did it.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM?!"
The shout came out way louder than he'd meant it to be. It bounced off the thin apartment walls, and for a horrible second he thought Andrea might wake up and come running.
He clamped his mouth shut mid breath, eyes checking at the door to make sure it wasn't being opened or anything like that.
The purple-haired girl didn't flinch at his outburst. She uncrossed her legs and stared at him unimpressed. Almost like she was studying him, and that was a feeling he did not enjoy.
"Oh wow, way to thank the girl who dragged you here and saved your ass." she said, annoyed
"You're the one who stabbed me!"
"And she didn't save you either" came a voice from right next to him which caused his hair to stand on end.
Sat on his bed, was a golden haired man, who looked to be about 6'2 and absolutely gorgeous. He looked the same as the boy, but different in a way he couldn't quite understand.
Golden hair that caught the thin morning light and turned it molten. Sharp, amused hazel eyes that were somehow brighter, clearer, more alive than the boy's ever felt. Same faded hoodie, same jeans, same scuffed sneakers, but worn like they were designer instead of thrift-store relics. Six-two, broad-shouldered, radiating the kind of effortless confidence the boy had only ever seen on movie posters
And he was smiling. Not some weird smile, not cruel, not a smirk and he wouldn't exactly call it dopey. Instead it was more of an... Entertained smile. Which freaked him out even more than any other kind of smile would.
"And who the fuck is this guy!?" the boy said, confused at the presence of the man and how he didn't notice him before.
"I'm just here to watch, don't mind me" the man said, laying down and watching the boy like he was the most interesting thing in the room.
"Okay, so ignoring the pedophile for now. What the hell are you doing here" he said, shifting his position on the bed a bit, to get out of the range of her and the blonde.
"when you bumped into me that day, I was carrying something incredibly important. An apple, one made of gold."
The boy looked at her carefully " yes… but I wouldn't say that's a good enough reason to stab someone." The boy said, backing away ever slightly throughout the conversation.
"I needed to stop you from eating it. Because that apple, is worth more than your life" the girl said.
"Rude"
"But true" said the blonde in the corner.
"Will you shut up!?"
"But it seems like I was too late. And you're now a forger." the girl explained.
The boy, stared at the purple-haired girl like she'd just grown a second head. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. Words failed him for a beat, then tumbled out in a rush.
"A... Forger? What the hell does that even mean?"
The girl sighed a long sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she was already exhausted from the conversation.
"Hold on, let me explain." The man interjected. "This is my area of expertise after all." The man said, bragging.
The teen looked at him with a strange look.
"That apple you ate, did you feel any strange sensation when you ate it?"
"Um, yeah. My whole day kinda brightened up. And I could see weird auras around people but I don't see what that's gotta do with forging." The teen explained.
"A forger is a person who can perceive and have shaped their soul into an item called a regalia, every regalia has a unique ability. That apple was my regalia"
"So what, you're like haunting me or something?"
" Kinda like that."
"So how come she can see you" the teen said, pointing towards the girl
"First off, you're just assuming she can see me, she hasn't said a word to or about me since you woke up. Second off, yes she can see me, I'm a soul, all forgers and contractors can see souls."
"What the fuck is a contractor?" He asked, ignoring that first point,
"A contractor is a person who forms contracts with spirits." The girl explained, noticing the boy staring down at his phone.
"Mhm, yeah, right" the teen said, his phone lighting up his back as he used it. "Well, I have school right now, so if you could save your cult pitch for another day that'd be great."
The boy tested the waters, getting off his bed and walking around her, she made no move to grab him.
Neither did the blonde.
So he kept circling her until he was at the door, and he quickly left.
As soon as he exited his room, he started booking it
He really didn't wanna deal with that, he could deal with the consequences later, but right now those two were likely crazy and he also didn't wanna be in the same room as the girl who stabbed him. That didn't seem like a good idea.
He had been texting Andrea behind his back the whole time they were talking, she'd already been taken to school, meaningful that he had until the end of the day to figure out a solution to this problem.
The boy's lungs burned by the time the school's chain-link fence came into view. He wasn't much of a runner, he was fast, probably the fastest in his class, but he had horrible stamina. but terror was a hell of a motivator.
He kept glancing over his shoulder, half-expecting a nine-foot black-iron samurai to be mid-stride behind him, but there was no one, just some students.
He headed into school, wiping the sweat off his face.
He leaned against the wall outside the Principal's office, hands on his knees, gasping for air. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ripped it out, fingers shaking as he pulled up the thread with Andrea.
To: Andrea
Hey, stay at Sarah's or the library after school today. Don't go home until I call you. I've got a... big project. Stay with the crowds. Love you.
He shoved the phone back in his pocket just as the office door opened. Principal Harlan stood there, adjusting his glasses, looking surprised to see the boy he'd just lectured yesterday back so soon, and looking like he'd just escaped a house fire."Good... morning? You're early, young man. Don't tell me you've already filled out the charter?"
The boy straightened up, trying to look less panicked,
"Not exactly, sir. But I... I took what you said to heart. About my future and stuff like that." He swallowed hard, his voice still a bit reedy. "I want to start the club today. Like, right now. But I realized I can't exactly recruit people if I'm just standing in the hallway looking... well, like this."
Harlan leaned against the doorframe, intrigued. "Go on."
"I need a space," the boy said, the lie knitting itself together in real-time.
"Somewhere quiet. Private. A place where the club can 'establish its identity' before we go public. If I have a room, I can stay late, work on the mission statement, and... you know, show that I'm serious. I was hoping I could stay there after school today. Until late."
The Principal's expression softened. To him, this looked like a troubled youth finally finding a spark of initiative.
"The old AV prep room behind the library is mostly used for storage these days," Harlan said, reaching for a heavy ring of keys on his belt. "It's cramped, and the ventilation isn't great, but it's yours if you can keep it clean. I'll notify the janitorial staff that you're authorized to be there until 6:00 PM." He handed over a small brass key. "Just make sure it's just as clean as when you entered it"
"Thank you, sir. Seriously."
The boy took the key, the metal cool and solid in his palm. It felt like a shield. As he turned to head toward the library, he felt a sudden, strong pressure next to him
"Nice move, kid," a voice whispered directly into his ear.
The boy jumped a foot in the air, spinning around. The hallway was empty of students, but standing right there, leaning against a trophy case with a smug, "I-told-you-so" grin, was the Golden Man.
He was looking at his own fingernails, the gold in his hair shimmering even in the dim fluorescent light.
"A storage room? A bit cliché for a secret base, don't you think? I was hoping for a penthouse, or at least a rooftop with a better view."
"Shut up," the boy hissed, walking faster, his head down. "You're not here. You're a hallucination. I'm just sleep-deprived."
"Yes and yes," the Golden Man sauntered after him, passing through a passing teacher like he was made of smoke. "The purple girl isn't here, just so you know. So.. where ya going?"
The boy gripped the key tighter, his knuckles turning white. He didn't care about the "Grid" or his "Soul." He just wanted to get out of this situation.
The bell didn't ring, some dumb idiot broke it a couple months back and the school hadn't made any attempt to fix it. This meant that he couldn't quite be sure whether he got there early or late, but based off all the stares aimed at him when he came in, he was gonna take a guess and assume late
He made his way to the back where his seat was, it was right up against a window, but there wasn't exactly anything interesting to see outside, seeing as the window was blocked by a tree.
He kept his head down, hoodie up, pretending to scroll on his phone while the teacher droned roll call.
He noticed that no one was pointing out Adam, who was still very visible to him, so unfortunately that was lending credence to the man's claims.
The key to the AV room burned a hole in his pocket. Six o'clock. He just had to hold out until then.
The door opened again.
"Class," Ms. Carter said, clapping once for attention, "we have a new student transferring in today. Everyone, please welcome Amara lleywin."
The boy would've spit out his water if he was drinking any.
Purple hair, messy bangs, nine foot tall samurai standing behind her. yeah this was the girl that stabbed him, and now he was heavily questioning his life, how was she even here?
Whispers rippled throughout the classroom as everyone's eyes checked out the new girl, both the guys and the girls looked like they wanted a piece of her.
Amara didn't seem to care though, it kinda looked like she was used to it.
Ms. Carter gestured to the seat next to the boy. "There's an open seat next to... Um, Rivera?"
"Not my name miss" the boy said.
"Oh sorry. I'm bad with names so please just bare with me. I'll learn all your names in due time?" Ms Carter stated
The boy placed his head on the desk. Not only had she transferred to this school into this class, she was also going to be sitting next to him.
She walked straight over, dropped her bag with a soft thud, and slid into the chair beside him. He couldn't see her face but he could guarantee she was staring at him
Even worse was all the people giving him an assortment of looks. Some looked almost proud of him despite the fact that they didn't know him. Others looked jealous of him, like they were ready to get out of their seats and lunge at him.
It was weird, he'd never had so many eyes in him like this, he was split, on one hand, he was kinda enjoying the attention, on the other hand, all the jealous and resentful stares
Amara leaned in, voice low enough that only he could hear. "Stop looking like you're about to puke. You're drawing attention."
He whispered back. "Yeah I'm not the one drawing attention to myself you psycho bitch"
The boy's whisper came out harsher than he meant, but fear and leftover adrenaline made his voice sharp. Amara's eyes narrowed, the messy purple bangs falling over one side of her face like a curtain. She didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned even closer, her voice a low hiss that only he could catch over the teacher's droning.
"Call me that again and I'll finish what I started on the roof."
The boy mumbled, trying his best to drown her out, in doing so he missed the short exchange of glances between amara and the blonde. she turned away, almost as if she was scared.
It felt like forever for the bell to ring to indicate the end of this period, or to be more accurate, the recording of a bell ringing over the pa system.
He stepped out of class with the same slow, half-asleep drag he usually did, only to feel it immediately, eyes. Too many of them, sticking to him like sweat.
Whispers followed him down the hallway.
"That's him, right?"
"Why is she sitting next to him?"
"No way that's random…"
The teen sighed.
"…oh great. I'm a topic of conversation now, That's new."
He adjusted his bag strap and kept walking anyway.
He didn't make it far.
A hand shot out and pressed against his locker before he could turn the corner.
Then another.
Then three more bodies formed a loose wall around him.
He looked up slowly, at the group of boys surrounding him.
He'd seen this situation play out too many times to count, but he'd never been in the situation himself.
They weren't the usual bullies, those guys had at least some kinda presence to them. But the people in front of him?
They were just like him. Losers with no notable features whatsoever, very difficult to pick out from a crowd.
The only one there who left even a little bit of an impression was the one in front, the tallest one out of the group.
"So it's you."
The teen blinked. "If this is about a missing personality, I swear I returned it in elementary school."
A couple of them shifted awkwardly. One almost laughed, then stopped himself.
The front guy didn't tho. He leaned closer, a little too close if you asked him.
"You think it's funny? That new girl, don't think we didn't notice you two chatting it up. Whats your relationship with her? Cause I know someone like you couldn't get with a hottie like that."
The teen stared at the boy infront of him like he was speaking a different language. "Someone like me?"
"You know what I mean."
"No, I don't. I genuinely don't. Please elaborate before I assume it's something stupid and we both waste our time."
That got a reaction.
One of the guys behind him muttered, "Bro, just chill…"
The leader ignored them.
"Answer me, smartass. A dude as ugly as you doesn't get to talk to babes like her"
That got a reaction out of the teen. "I know YOU are not talking to me about looks. See i can acknowledge that in terms of looks I'm average at best... But you're just down right unlovable."
The leader held his tongue, he wasn't gonna let this guy get to him "We're just saying," he continued, voice sharper now, "switch seats. Tomorrow. Move away from her. Simple."
The teen stared at him for a second, then sighed, unimpressed.
"…You cornered me in a hallway for a seating arrangement?"
"It's not just that." the leader almost yelled
"Oh good. So it's dramatic dramatic."
The guy's eye twitched. "What are you gonna do about it?"
That pause hung in the air. It was almost like the leader was waiting for some kind of compliance or fear or something.
"You ever notice how people always ask that question like they're the main character?" the teen said.
"…What?"
"What are you gonna do about it," the boy repeated softly. "It's funny. Because usually the answer is 'nothing interesting enough to justify this conversation.'"
The leader grabbed his collar.
"Stop talking."
He looked down at the hand, then back up at the person it belonged to.
"alright then, if you think your hot shit then go on and do it."
The leader obliged, throwing one, two, three, four punches into the boy's jaw.
They had expected him to be bleeding, or out cold or something, they had expected those expected those punches to do something to him. But instead he just looked mildly inconvenienced
He looked less like he'd been punched in the face and more like he'd got hit by a ball of paper.
"Okay," he said. "My turn."
Before anyone could process it, his knee came up fast and clean.
The leader doubled over instantly, all aggression leaving his body all at once, replaced by agony.
The hallway went dead quiet as the other two boys felt his pain. Though they didn't seem to be too eager to get revenge on him or anything.
One of them whispered, "Dude… I didn't sign up for this…"
Another took a step back immediately. "Yeah, no, I'm not doing this. This is stupid."
He adjusted his sleeve before looking at the bent over guy once, and then back at the lackeys who all seemed more or less indifferent to their friends pain
"…So," he said casually, "aren't you guys gonna like jump me or something?"
"Nah, he kinda had it coming."
"I have no issues with you, I'm just here because they're here"
"I don't actually know how to fight"
The three goons said at the same time, awkwardly staring at the boy they'd cornered
"Okay cool" he said, walking past them
A few steps down the hall, out of sight, he paused and raised a hand slightly to his chin."…That actually hurt more than I expected."
"Woah, that was kinda cool, I didn't expect that from you of all people." Said the golden haired man.
"And here I thought I was awake to not see you again." The teen said, glaring at the noncorporeal person.
The Golden Man didn't look offended. If anything, he looked like he'd just found a twenty-dollar bill on the sidewalk. He floated a few inches off the ground, rotating slowly until he was horizontal, drifting alongside the boy as he made his way toward the old AV room. "Tho I gotta say, it does leave me with some questions. If you're this interesting, then why is it that you act so... Empty. Is it something I'm missing?"
"Yeah, you're missing nunya."
"Nunya?"
"None ya business"
"Alright then, would you prefer I tell you who I am so we have no secrets?"
"Well I mean I guess it'd be nice to know your name, but-" he was interrupted as the goldette started monologuing.
"My name is Adam. I'm the first man as well as the first forger. I lived in a place called Eden With my wife eve, until she tempted me to eat an apple which allowed me to remove myself from the soul grid granting me my forger power, I forged my soul into an apple and lived a long happy life, but the-" before the man could finish, he was interrupted by the teen.
"Okay, first off you said you'd tell me your name not your life story. Second off, I didn't even agree. Third off... You're bullshiting me right? You're telling me that you, are Adam from the Bible?"
"The fucks a Bible?"
"Hey" came another voice, this one not from either of them
Both of them turned around to see that it was Joshua Gordon." You're rivera right?"
"No. It's not. And I'm not even Hispanic for that to be a race thing."
"Sorry, that's what Miss called you" he apologized with an earnest goofy smile that annoyed the teen in front of him "I just... Came down here to make sure you were okay." He suddenly became much more serious "When that new transfer girl sat next to you In class, I noticed that you looked distressed, and the whole time you looked uncomfortable. Is there something going on between you and amara? And is there something I can do to help?"
The teen should've felt grateful that someone noticed the tension. He should've felt happy that someone noticed him at all.
But not this guy. Just the thought that this guy actually noticed and paid attention to him more than anyone else at this school, including lea Bordeaux, pissed the teen off immensely.
"I'm fine, nothing I need you for anyway. Shouldn't you be busy throwing a football or something?" The teen said. It would absolutely have been a better idea to get some help. But he simply couldn't, not from him
The girl would probably wait for him after classes were over in the av room. So he decided to just get this whole thing over with.
---
The man ran away from the loud sirens that bounced off the buildings, causing a cacophony of noise.
across the street, boots splashing through a puddle that reflected flashing red and blue lights. A police officer stepped into his path, gun raised "hands above your head, I don't wanna-"
He didn't have the time to say anything else.
There was a blur of motion, and suddenly, he'd been cut in half. First being bisected, then he was cut in half from head to toe.
"Too slow," the man muttered, almost bored.
More officers poured in from the side street. He didn't stop. Tho, he rushed at them even faster. The cops pulled up their weapons, and only one of them managed to get a shot off. The rest of them were all cut and slashed apart.
The bullet that did manage to be fired however, went straight through his head.
The man lifted his hand to his head, feeling blood and brain matter falling out, but he was otherwise fine.
He continued running, the distant sirens more an annoyance than threatening, but still, he needed to get away from them. He couldn't go back to prison.
It was then that he noticed that up ahead of him was a school.
He smiled, that would be a great place to hide, no one would think to look for him there.
---
The Av room was as the principal said, it was old, dusty and looked empty.
He walked into the dark room, which was way darker than it should've been considering it was still 2:45
"Cozy" Adam said, reaching a hand over an old dusty vcr.
The boy turned on the light to see the purple haired girl sitting there already, she was buried in a thick, leather-bound book that looked way too heavy for a high school backpack.
"I wasn't actually sure you'd show up," she said without looking up.
"Then you shoulda left and not came back." The boy said, looking around the room now that it was more visible. "What are you even doing here, what do you want with me? I don't know if you noticed but I don't really care too much about your grid nonsense, and my life is pretty damn boring."
"Yeah, I figured that second part out already. I'm not here because of you. I'm here because of him" she said, pointing to the goldette. "It just so happens that you two are a packaged deal now"
She explained, finally looking up at him. "I'm from an organization known as black-book. We're the ones keeping forgers and contractors in check, we're also the ones making sure normal society never finds out about the things they'd classify as supernatural. I'm a spirit detective, so my job is to hunt down high priority Targets and keep them in line"
"Well thanks for the explanation that I didn't ask for." The boy said, looking down at the book. "Also I'm pretty damn sure that's not what a detective does."
he looked up at the massive samurai that looked behind her, now that he'd gotten a closer look at it, it wasn't the most intimidating thing in the world, but it was still nowhere near normal.
And now that he was taking a closer look there was another being behind her, some kind of heart? With glowing pink tentacles.
The girl noticed where he was staring and spoke up. "I already explained to you what a contractor is earlier this morning right? These two are my contracted spirits, general old iron, who you met already. And the heart with tentacles is yuhe."
The boy looked at the heart for a long moment. It pulsed. Slowly. Like it was breathing.
"...That one's weirder," he said finally.
"Yuhe agrees with you, by the way," Adam offered from the corner, where he'd made himself comfortable on top of a broken overhead projector. "She thinks you're strange too."
"She can hear me?"
"All spirits can perceive the living. Whether they care to is a different question."
The boy looked at Yuhe again. The tentacles drifted slow and weightless, like something underwater. The glow they gave off was warm, almost gentle, which made the whole thing worse somehow. Things that looked gentle had no business being that shape.
He pulled up a dusty chair and sat down across from Amara, dropping his bag between his feet.
"Okay," he said. "Talk."
Amara blinked. Like she hadn't expected that. "You're actually going to listen?"
"You transferred schools, found my classroom, found this room before I did, and you've got a nine-foot samurai following you around." He leaned back. "Clearly you're not going anywhere. So yeah. Talk."
She studied him for a second, like she was deciding whether he was serious or just stalling. Then she closed the book, set it on her lap, and sat up straighter.
"Your Regalia," she started. "Do you know what it is?"
"The apple thing."
"The apple thing," she repeated, with a flatness that suggested she was choosing not to comment on that. "Yes. Adam's Regalia was an apple. You ate it, which means the soul housed inside it is now inside you. You didn't forge intentionally, it was done to you. That's so rare that I've never actually seen it before now"
"Great, love being special."
"It's not a compliment. Forgers who forge intentionally choose their Regalia. But those who Don't intentionally forge one, it's usually determined by the situation."
"So what's mine?"
She hesitated, just slightly. "We don't know yet. From what I'm seeing you clearly still have a soul in you, but you should've unlocked Adams regalia power"
The boy looked at Adam.
The goldette let off a smug grin, "hey like I said I'm just here to watch I don't need to explain a thing"
"Then why The hell were you explaining you're whole life story earlier!?"
"Well you see it's quite simple. It'd be boring if I gave you all the answers right off the bat. I'm here to watch and be entertained."
"Alright then." The boy sighed, looking back at her "I still have a lot of questions, but since you're not trying to kill me anymore I guess you can answer them tomorrow." He said, placing a sheet of paper in her hand
"You want me to join your little club?"
"Well you're the only reason I'm here right now and not home, so id say a little bit of equivalent exchange is in order. Plus isn't it your job to watch me?"
Amara stared at him, her expression flat. "Don't you think I have anything better to do with my time?"
"No," he said simply. "Now sign the damn form"
As she took a pen out of her pocket, ready to sign, the three felt a chill go down their spine.
"What the fuck was that?" The teenager asked, turning around after that feeling.
"That must be a regalia ability. There's a forger here" the girl explained,
The chill hit all three of them at the same time.
The boy's head came up. Amara was already on her feet, sword half out before he'd even registered the cold.
"Yep that's a Regalia," Adam said, sitting up straight for the first time since the boy had met him, tho he didn't seem too worried. "This one's not too strong, maybe you can go discover your regalia by fighting it."
Amara didn't wait. General Iron folded into her in one clean motion, the giant samurai collapsing inward like smoke being inhaled, and she was already moving toward the door, sword gripped low.
"Not gonna happen stay here," she said, not looking back.
"Aww man"
The door clicked shut behind her.
The room felt smaller without her in it.
The boy sat very still for a moment, then looked at Adam, who was watching him with that same expression he'd had all day. Chin resting on his hand. Unhurried. Like he'd already seen the end of this and found it satisfying.
"What exactly were you expecting me to do against that?," the boy said.
"I don't know, you might've figured something out."
"Yeah, Sure."
Adam smiled faintly. He drifted down from the projector and settled into the chair Amara had vacated, legs crossed, looking around the AV room with mild curiosity before his eyes landed back on the boy.
"So," he said.
"No."
"I haven't said anything yet."
"You said so. I don't want to hear what comes after the 'so.'"
Adam tilted his head. "You ran to school this morning."
"I had school."
"You ran from the apartment. You had a plan ready before first period. You texted your sister to stay away, got a room, handled the hallway situation, all before ten AM." He paused. "That's not nothing."
"That's just not being an idiot."
"Most people freeze."
"Most people are dramatic about it." The boy picked at a loose thread on his bag strap. "It wasn't that deep. Crazy people were in my room, so I left, simple as that."
Adam was quiet for a second. It was the kind of quiet that felt deliberate.
"You do that a lot," he said. "The shrinking thing."
The boy looked up. "The what?"
"The way you talk about yourself." Adam gestured vaguely. "Like you're trying to take up less space in the room. Not just physically."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Alright," Adam said. "Then tell me something. That group in the hallway, you clocked them before they showed up, didn't seem at all intimidated and you spoke to them like they were children."
The boy said nothing.
"That's not what boring people do."
"I just didn't want to get hit."
"And yet you let him hit you four times before you responded."
"I was checking something."
"What?"
The boy was quiet for a moment. "Whether those punches still hurt. Since the apple thing."
Adam looked at him steadily. "And?"
"Eh, it hurt a little." He shrugged. "Which is why I knew nothing changed about me"
Adam leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees. "So. You're fast, you read rooms, you don't freeze, you think clearly under pressure, and you're apparently testing the limits of your own pain threshold in real time." A beat. "But you're boring."
"I'm not interesting," the boy said, and the flatness in his voice wasn't defensive. It was just matter of fact, like he was completely and wholly sure about it. "There's a difference. Interesting people have things that make them worth following. Some kinda drive, something they want, some whole personality. I don't have that. I go to school. I make sure Andrea's okay. I go home. That's it."
"That's not nothing either."
"It's not something." He leaned back, staring at the water-stained ceiling. "You ever watch those movies where some guy finds out he's special and it turns his whole life around? Like he was just waiting for it. Like deep down he always knew."
"I've seen a few."
"That's not me. I didn't feel like I was waiting for anything. I wasn't secretly restless or hungry for more or whatever. I was just..." He exhaled. "Fine. Things were fine. Now there's a girl with a giant samurai in my classroom and you won't stop floating next to me, and apparently I ate someone's soul and I still don't fully understand what that means."
"It means you're a Forger."
"It means my life stopped being quiet," the boy said. "Which... I wanted but... Not like this, not in this way."
Adam looked at him for a long moment. Something in his expression had shifted, though it was subtle enough that it was hard to name.
"You know," Adam said slowly, "I've met a lot of people who chased this. Who wanted it. Who thought power was the thing that would finally make them matter."
"Good for them."
"Most of them were miserable."
The boy glanced at him. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"It's supposed to make you think." Adam settled back. "Why is it that all people with power eventually fall right back into the same misery they felt when they were powerless and boring?" the smug edge crept back in, "You know the answer don't you." It wasn't a question
The boy opened his mouth to respond.
Then the wall cracked.
Not the door. The wall. A section of drywall to the left of the entrance buckled inward with a sound like a gunshot, dust blooming outward in a pale cloud, and through the gap came Amara, hitting the floor in a controlled roll and coming up onto one knee, sword raised.
Half a second behind her, a man stepped through the hole he'd made with his shoulder.
Prison jumpsuit, torn at both sleeves. Black hair matted and wild. Pale eyes with something behind them that wasn't quite right, too steady for someone who'd just run through a wall, too calm for someone with a bullet hole crusted dark at his left temple.
His gaze moved across the room once, and settled.
"There we go," Makun said, quiet and satisfied, like he'd been looking for something misplaced and finally found it. His eyes weren't on Amara. They were on the boy. "I knew I felt something up here."
---
Amara had found him two corridors away from the AV room.
She'd tracked the presence the way she always did, following the trail of dead bodies and broken walls he'd left in his wake. she had her hand on the hilt of her sword before she'd made it past the first set of lockers.
The hallway was empty. Most students had left school already headed home, tho, some members of the staff weren't so lucky.
She'd turned the corner near the science wing and nearly walked straight into him.
He was standing in the middle of the corridor like he had nowhere to be, head tilted up, eyes half-closed. Breathing slowly.
She immediately recognized the man in front of her, she'd already read his file.
Makun Guenes. He was a forger with the ability to project an aura of pressure, outwards to an unknown radius. He had a Criminal record spanning multiple countries, confirmed kills in the double digits, and those were only the confirmed ones. In and out of high-security facilities for the better part of two decades, each time leaving a count of officers behind that Black Book had to quietly bury.
He looked like someone had fished him out of a drain. Jumpsuit torn, blood dried at his temple where she could see bone at the edge of the wound, dark under the fluorescent lights. He'd been shot in the head and he was using the moment to stand in a school hallway and listen to... Something. She didn't know.
She made no effort to announce herself, instead deciding to simply remove him before he could notice her.
She rushed at him, aiming to take his head off his body. But he dodged, letting her slash whip through empty air.
He opened his eyes.
"Oh," he said, looking her over once. "You're young."
"Move away from the building," she said. "Now."
He smiled. Not unkindly. That was the part that bothered her. "No way, I'm hiding from the secret police, I can't simply leave. I also sense two very powerful souls in here, I would like to go see for myself"
"i cannot allow that."
He looked at her sword, then at her face. "Black Book?"
She didn't answer.
"Right." He exhaled through his nose, almost amused. "Well. I'm not going to make this easy for you."
She moved first.
He was faster than the file had suggested, she attacked him three times, but each time she was blocked by a pair of golden scythes at a near incomprehensible speed.
By the Fourth exchange, he kicked her into the wall, before walking off, completely disinterested now.
She chased him down, aiming to stop him, but he'd gotten to the av room.
When he stopped she tried to end it then, but he grabbed her sword, and threw her into the wall, cracking it.
And then he kicked her through.
Now they were here.
The boy's eyes locked onto Makun the second the man stepped through the ruined wall. The pressure from the man's ability was pressing down onto the boy like tons of concrete. Makun wasn't looking at Amara anymore. His pale eyes were fixed squarely on him, and that calm, almost polite smile made it worse.
Makun took one lazy step forward.
Before he even had the time to think about what was going to happen he jumped back hard, chair clattering behind him as he put the dusty table between them. "Who the hell are you?!"
Makun tilted his head, golden scythes materializing out of nowhere "you're a weird kid you know that? Your soul is so strong. Yet your eyes... They're so dead"
Amara was already pushing herself up from the floor, blood at the corner of her mouth, sword raised again. "Stay away from him, Makun!"
The escaped convict didn't even glance at her. He lunged Straight at the boy.
Time slowed in that horrible way it does when death is not that far away. The boy saw the golden scythes coming, felt the pressure in the room thicken like an invisible hand pressing down on his skull. He tried to dodge left, but his foot caught on a loose cable and he stumbled.
The first scythe whistled past his ear, slicing a clean line through the air where his head had been a heartbeat earlier. The second came lower, aimed at his torso.
Goddamit he was going to die Again.
"Shit!"
Then Adam's voice appeared in his ear "Kid. Grab your chest. Like you're pulling something out. Now."
The boy didn't question it. There wasn't time. His hand shot up, fingers splaying over the center of his hoodie, right where his heart thundered.
He yanked.
It felt like ripping Velcro made of lightning.
A massive pair of scissors erupted from his chest in a burst of golden light, blades longer than his arms, crossed and wickedly sharp, handles golden.
The boy stared at them, stunned, as Makun's scythes halted mid-swing, inches from his face.
"What the?"
Adam's entertained grin widened from across the room. "There it is kid. That's our regalia ability"
"How interesting, I could've sworn you had a soul a moment ago, yet now you're a forger? And you forged a regalia so easily despite many forgers being unable to even make a framework the first time around. Let me see just how prodigious you are" makun said, rushing at him like the mad man he was
The scissors were massive and unwieldy and he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
Makun came in fast, scythes crossing in an X-pattern aimed at his collar. The boy threw the blades up in a desperate guard, and the clash sent a vibration up his arms that rattled his back teeth. Stronger than he looked. Way stronger.
He shoved back, stumbling sideways into a shelving unit. VHS tapes rained down around him.
"What does it do?!" he shouted.
"I don't know!" Adam called back, sounding genuinely delighted about it.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW?!"
"I mean I haven't got a clue. You're supposed to figure that out!"
Makun pressed forward without pause, scythes working in tight, efficient arcs. The boy kept retreating, blocking what he could and dodging the rest, furniture disintegrating behind him wherever the scythes landed clean.
He caught a glancing hit across his forearm. Not deep. But it burned like a brand.
Okay so those can actually hurt him. That was important information.
Amara drove in from the left, slashing at him from his blind spot. Makun sidestepped without looking at her, almost contemptuous about it, and backhanded her into the opposite wall with one arm. She hit it hard and stayed there a second, braced against the cracked drywall, breathing.
The boy circled right, keeping the broken table between them, scissors held awkwardly in front of him.
'Why is it that all people with power eventually fall right back into the same misery they felt when they were powerless and boring?'
He blinked Adam's voice out of his head. Those words from before were coming back now, lingering in his head.
Makun feinted left and swept low. The boy jumped it, barely, the scythe blade grazing the sole of his shoe as he cleared it.
He landed wrong, knee buckling, and had to grab a shelf to stay upright.
'You know the answer, don't you.'
He hadn't answered. The wall had cracked before he could.
Makun straightened up, unhurried, rolling one shoulder like this was mildly interesting exercise. "You're fast," he said. " Good instincts." He sounded almost paternal. "But you're not fighting. You're surviving. There's a very big difference."
"Great, yeah, noted, thank you." The boy spat, arms burning from the weight of the scissors. They were huge. Ridiculous. Who forged scissors. What did that even mean about him as a person.
He thought about Joshua Gordon. Genuinely, briefly, involuntarily.
Joshua, who had stepped in when the nerd got cornered. Who played football and sang and acted and still found time to join the environmental club. Who managed to get multiple women interested in him, despite already having a girlfriend who was the prettiest girl in school. Who, despite all that, was a genuinely good person who was observant and wanted to help the people around him.
He'd been pissed about it. And it would probably be difficult for a little of people to understand why that was. But he could put his reasoning into words very clearly.
He wanted that. Had always wanted it.
He wanted to be the kind of person who stepped in. Who mattered. Who got noticed. He'd told Adam he wasn't secretly restless, that he hadn't been waiting for anything.
He'd lied.
He'd been lying about it so long and so consistently that he'd almost convinced himself.
Makun lunged again. The boy ducked under the first scythe, caught the second on the crossed blades, pushed it aside, stepped back. Ducked again. Shoved a toppled monitor at the man's shins to buy half a second.
'That's not what boring people do.'
He'd spent years watching. The hallways. The bus. The boy who got his backpack thrown. The girl on the curb. The stray dog. His mother. All of it. He had catalogued every single moment he could have done something and didn't, filed each one neatly under someone else's problem, and told himself it was fine. That it was normal. That this was just who he was.
But he'd never actually believed it.
He'd just run out of energy to fight it.
Some mornings he didn't have the motivation to get dressed. Some mornings the ceiling was just the ceiling and the day ahead was just the day ahead and nothing about it felt worth the effort of beginning. And if he couldn't get himself to care about his own mornings, how was he supposed to care about anything else?
He could admit that he was absolutely just another bystander even in his own life.
Amara hit Makun from behind with a clean two-handed slash. He took it across the back, stumbled, turned on her with a speed that made the boy's stomach drop. She was already retreating, reading his range,
"Any time!" she called.
"Working on it!"
He was backed up against the far wall now, scissors raised, chest heaving.
All Those kids on all those TV shows had always known. The moment they got the power, they knew what it meant. They understood it because they'd been waiting for it, because they had something burning in them that the power was just waiting to ignite.
He didn't have that.
Or he'd thought he didn't.
But standing here, scissors in hand, destruction on every surface around him, some guy with a head wound trying to kill him, and genuinely no idea what was about to happen next.
He felt something.
Not fear. He was past fear. Not adrenaline either, though it was there.
Something underneath both of those things. Something that had been very carefully buried under years of ceilings and hallways and phones scrolled to nothing.
He felt awake.
Like the version of himself that existed in the daydreams he'd never admitted to having had quietly stood up and walked into the room.
Makun came at him full speed.
The boy stopped retreating.
He held the scissors open, blades spread wide, and swung them shut.
Makun wasn't even close to him when he did that, but he didn't have time to even notice what the boy did, let alone be confused by it.
The space between the scissors and Makun simply ceased to exist. The boy didn't move. Makun was just suddenly closer, mid-lunge, off-balance, the geometry of the room having completely changed.
Makun's eyes went wide. First time all fight.
The boy drove his elbow up into the man's chin with the full weight of the closed distance behind it.
Makun's head snapped back. He staggered. Three steps. Hit the broken shelving unit. Went down.
The room went quiet.
Amara stared at the boy in front of her, who just managed a pretty impressive feat.
Adam, from his corner, slow-clapped twice. "Now that, was entertaining."
The boy stood over Makun's crumpled form, scissors still in hand, breath ragged, one arm bleeding sluggishly from the earlier graze.
"So, mind explaining what your regalia does" Adam asked, He looked extremely pleased with himself despite having contributed nothing.
"It cuts everything between the blades and the target," the boy said slowly, working through it. "Distance. Air. Whatever's in the way. That's my best guess, anyway."
"How'd you figure out it's ability?"
"It's a pair of scissors. There really is only one way to use scissors." He looked down at the scissors. Enormous, stupid, golden. A soul forged into the shape of something his little sister used in art class. He almost laughed. It came out as a long exhale instead.
Amara crossed to Makun, pressed two fingers to his throat, then started pulling a length of dark cord from her bag that looked way too official to be normal rope. "Help me with this instead of standing there."
He crouched down without complaint.
His hands were shaking slightly. Not from fear. From the leftover feeling of something he didn't quite have a name for yet.
He wanted to examine it later. Carefully. Quietly. In the same way he'd examine something fragile that he wasn't sure he was allowed to have.
But for now he held Makun's wrists together, and Amara bound them, and the scissors slowly dissolved back into his chest like they'd never existed.
The AV room sat in ruins around them. One wall was a hole. The shelving was kindling. Three VHS tapes were inexplicably on the ceiling.
"So," the boy said after a moment. "I still need two more signatures for the club form."
Amara looked at him.
"It's due Friday," he said.
She stared at him for another long second.
Then she signed it.
---
"Oh, so you've already got one of your three required club members?" Principal Harlan asked
"Yep. And I've already got a name and mission statement."
"Oh really?"
"The detectives club. Here to solve problems no one else can." The boy said.
Amara had told him not to worry about the busted up av room or multiple dead bodies. She had connections that could fix everything and cover it all up.
"You seem... Much brighter than the last time we spoke." Principal Harlan took notice of the boy's improved mood. "What exactly happened today?"
"Eh. Nothing out of the ordinary. I guess I'm just... Excited for all the Life I have left."
"Well whatever the case may be, it's always good to see a young man truly enjoying their youth. I wish you nothing but the best rivera" the principal said
"Oh my God not you too!"
"What's the matter?"
"That's not my name."
"Oh sorry sorry. I must've been mistaking you with another student this whole time. So... Who are you really?"
"Jayden."
He said before looking the principal dead in the eyes.
"My name is Jayden mcullen."