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"No hard feelings. My foot just has a mind of its own. Your stupid face should have known better."
The words landed like a fuse being lit.
Before Seth could snarl back, a shoe slammed into his jaw with the force of a wrecking ball. A crack rang sharp in the corridor, so loud that even those in the back flinched.
He flew. Not staggered, not stumbled—flew. His body went airborne like a ragdoll punted by a god and crashed several meters away, teeth skittering across the floor like loose dice.
Gasps tore through the crowd. Some students shrieked, hands over their mouths. Others cheered, drunk on the mayhem.
Everyone heard it.
The sound of bone popping out of place. The kind of sound that lived in your skull long after you'd heard it.
And then, in a slow ripple of movement, heads turned to see who had delivered it.
The figure looked like frost had grown into a boy. Pale hair, pale skin, the kind that made him look carved from winter. But his eyes ruined the illusion.
They weren't pale at all, they were red. Not the soft kind of red. A deep, blood-smeared crimson that didn't belong on anything humane.
Zach lowered his foot. His feral eyes locked on Seth, as if the rest of the hallway had ceased to exist. He shoved the paper bag in his hand against Zev's chest.
"Hold this," he muttered, voice distant, like it came from someone only half tethered to the moment.
Zev clutched the bag on instinct, pulse thundering in his ears. He didn't even dare peek inside.
"W–Wait, Zach! Don't—"
Seth staggered upright. His jaw hung lopsided, bone jutting like a hinge off its track.
He probed it with his tongue, gagged when it caught on broken enamel, then let out a sound that was a raw mix of a sob and a wounded growl.
"Duck—duck!!" he shrieked, slurring over the ruined alignment.
Then, before anyone could stop the desperate impulse, he seized his own chin and wrenched the jaw back into place.
The loud crack sent shivers down the spine of the entire crowd. His scream chased the sound down the hallway, ragged and ferocious. He bent over, clutching at the wall, teeth rattling from the shockwave of pain. For a second he looked genuinely ready to pass out.
Ugo darted in, sliding under one arm. His feline eyes glared at Zach even as his voice cracked with concern.
"Shit, Seth! That look painful as hell. Ya okay, brother?!"
"I thought you died for a second," Nooriel, arriving alongside, stated with bored calm, drawing a fierce glare from Ugo.
Seth barely heard them. All his senses had collapsed into a single, blinding point: the white-haired lunatic watching him.
Zach's gaze didn't move. Didn't blink.
"Leave him there," he said, voice flat but wrong. He was talking to Ugo and Nooriel, but his eyes—those bottomless, bloody pits—were still fixed on Seth. "Move."
The crowd began to mutter nervously. Only now were they realizing something terrifying: no one had seen him arrive. He had simply been there, sliding into the moment without warning.
Recognition dawned on Seth's face, and with it, a cold wash of dread.
Yesterday. The wacko.
On his way back from admissions, Seth had seen this boy pacing the courtyard, mumbling to himself. White hair, glowing eyes, the whole freak package.
Seth had thought it would be entertaining to mess with him. Just a quick push, a joke, a harmless jab—something to kill the boredom.
He never forgot the way Zach had pinned him to the ground before he could blink. He'd stared right through him, swearing to kill him if he tried it next time.
And now… next time had come.
Seth's chest filled with panic and fury, equal measures of both. First, that Paragon bastard had humiliated him. Then that midget had dared to glare back. Now yesterday's ghost was here to stomp his remaining dignity into the ground.
Why did everyone feel they had the right to disrespect him?!
"What the fuck is with you?!" he spat, blood flecking his lips.
Ugo stepped forward, body tense, voice loud. "Like hell we'll move! Ya shitty albino fuck. Couldn' take my buddy like a real man. Had ta sneak up like a rat—"
His words died in his throat.
Zach blurred.
One instant he was standing there. The next he was behind Ugo, foot driving into his back. Ugo lurched forward, teeth clenched in pain, only to find Zach already in front of him, another kick arcing for his face.
Instincts saved him. Ugo threw up his arm, catching the strike on bone. The impact blasted him backward anyway, feet skidding across the tiles.
He swallowed a groan, flexing his arm. A hairline fracture at least. He could regenerate that easily but his pride screamed louder than the pain.
Zach tilted his head, expression unreadable. "Ah, he blocked it. How annoying. I'm losing my touch."
The words iced the room. Losing his touch?? He'd just snapped a jaw and nearly folded another student in half.
"Anyway," Zach continued, tone flat, "rat or not, wait your turn. Get in my way again and I'll kill you."
No one doubted it was true.
Ugo's hands clenched, sweat cooling his spine. His feline pupils thinned to slits. His body told him to pounce, but his instincts screamed louder: don't.
Satisfied, Zach turned back to Seth, his gaze almost obsessive.
Seth shoved Nooriel's hand off him and staggered forward. "Fuck you, bitch! You think I'm scared? Don't get cocky because of yesterday! You caught me off guard. I wasn't ready!"
Zach raised an eyebrow. "Huh? What's this idiot yapping about? Yesterday?"
His tone was genuinely baffled, like someone reminded of an assignment they never did.
He had forgotten. Completely.
The realization landed harder than any punch. Seth's busted face twisted, veins protruding from his neck.
'This fucker. He doesn't even remember me. After all that, he forgot me...'
Humiliation roared through him. There was no going back now. He was going to make an example out of this shit-stain bastard in front of everyone.
Fuck Rin! He didn't need him. He'd show everyone who exactly he was right here, right now.
"You just signed your death wish," he spat.
His black tee bunched as he yanked it up, revealing his bare torso. Gasps rose as his chest began to glow.
He reached inside himself. Fingers sank past skin, past flesh. A guttural scream tore from his throat as he pulled on something.
"What the—! Is that maniac pulling out his own rib?!"
Then with a loud crack, out came bone. A rib, glowing white, slick with dreamlight.
Sweat poured off his forehead as he clutched it in both hands, breath shallow.
Then, before the crowd's stunned eyes, the rib stretched and straightened, transforming into a blade.
Flames burst from its length, hungry and wild, licking up toward the ceiling.
The crowd staggered back. Some shrieked. Others stared, transfixed.
A weapon made of your own body; that was Ossafex legacy at its rawest. Horrifying. Revered. And Seth Ban was wielding it like a promise.