Walking forward, my head rose, the wind cutting sharp against my skin. The crowd fell silent, parents frozen in a collective breath, and students stiff as statues. My body trembled—not with fear but with purpose—as blood streaked from my eyes like tears, crimson veins pulsing and snaking down my face to my neck like live wires ready to snap.
"Bola," I growled, my voice a razor against the stillness, "will you display your true self here?"
Every step was a strike against the ground, the tension amplifying with every moment. My legs strained like coiled springs, each movement a declaration of defiance. The air thickened as I set my gaze on him, the man above who dared to toy with all of us. His grin widened, a predator's smile, unreadable yet taunting. He knew. Somehow, he had always known this moment would come.
The students stared, eyes wide, breaths uneven. They knew what was coming but could do nothing to stop it. Elizabeth's hand twitched at her side, worry etched into her every feature. She had seen me before, but this? This was something new. Something beyond her reach. Impulsive. Unpredictable. Uncontrollable. She murmured under her breath, as though trying to make sense of it: "He's… something else."
Then it happened.
A sound like a whip crack, but louder—explosive, deafening—a sonic boom that shattered the oppressive silence. In that instant, I ignited, a blaze of raw red energy erupting from my frame, blinding in its fury. The ground beneath me cracked as I launched, the air itself bending around me with the force. Students flinched and shielded their eyes; parents gasped and stumbled backward.
I twisted mid-air, the streak of red spiraling like a storm given form. My target was fixed: Bola. He hovered high above, unmoving, watching. His smirk didn't waver, even as I hurtled toward him like a spear of rage. It wasn't fear in his eyes—it was amusement.
The crowd could feel it, the raw tension pressing down on them like a physical weight. Every heartbeat echoed like a war drum. Every breath felt stolen. This wasn't just a clash of wills; it was the birth of something catastrophic.
As I closed the gap, my voice tore through the chaos like a blade: "You knew this would happen!"
But Bola didn't flinch. Instead, his eyes glimmered with something terrifying—a knowing that only deepened the pit in my stomach. He opened his arms as if welcoming me, his voice calm, smooth, and mocking: "Show me, then. Show me what you've become."
I didn't hesitate. The world shattered around me as I collided with him, a blast of red energy rippling through the sky, shaking the earth below. It wasn't a fight anymore; it was a declaration, a challenge to the one who thought he could control us all.
"WAIT WHERE AM I"
In a flash the scenery changed, incomprehensible, from the smell of grass to the metal, from the sight of parents to the sight of a massive shadow, a demon, in a room all alone from the hundreds of students to me, Michael, "Wait my leg is broken, I'm on the floor" what was happening I can't understand.
FOR THE FIRST TIME MICHAEL WAS CONFUSED, HE DIDNT KNOW WHAT WAS HAPPENING.
Michael decided to look around, he was in a metallic room, his eyes has finally cleared, he could see it no he could see him IT WAS BOLA.
Mr.Bola looked down "Michael, stupid, impulsive just like your father, did you think you can harm me, you can't, your just like him, no difference smart YES but smarter NO"
Michael was shocked, scared I'm confused he's confused.
MICHAELS WORLD IS IN TENSION
WHO WILL SAVE
WILL THIS BE ANOTHER SCAR
"WAIT, WHERE AM I?"
In an instant, everything shifted—violently, incomprehensibly. The earthy scent of grass was replaced by the cold tang of metal. The cheering parents and rows of students disappeared, replaced by a void dominated by a massive shadow. Michael was alone now, utterly alone.
His voice cracked, raw and disoriented: "Wait… my leg. It's broken. I'm on the floor."
Pain shot through him, sharp and real, dragging him back to the present. Confusion clouded his mind. What was happening? He tried to piece it together, but the fragments of his memory refused to align. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Michael couldn't comprehend the situation.
FOR THE FIRST TIME, MICHAEL WAS CONFUSED. HE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT WAS HAPPENING.
The room came into focus. Metallic walls gleamed under a sterile, dim light, reflecting his disheveled appearance. He forced his eyes upward, scanning for anything familiar—until they landed on him.
Bola.
A figure looming inhumanly large, his presence filling the space like an oppressive storm. The grin on his face was no longer playful; it was predatory.
Michael's breath hitched as Bola's voice sliced through the silence, deep and cutting:
"Michael. Stupid. Impulsive. Just like your father." Bola's eyes glinted with disdain, leaning closer, his words carrying the weight of inevitability. "Did you really think you could harm me? You can't. You're just like him. No different. Smart? Yes. But smarter? No."
Michael froze, his mind racing but unable to land on anything coherent. Shock blended into fear, a cocktail he wasn't used to tasting.
Michael was shaken. Scared. For once in his life, he didn't have the answers.
Back in Emox, the students were suddenly back in their rooms. Each of them appeared in the same instant, bewildered, adrenaline still coursing through their veins. Whispers filled the air, a desperate exchange of fragmented observations:
"What happened?"
"Where's Michael?"
"Did anyone see him? Did he—did he vanish?"
Elizabeth clutched the edge of her bed, her knuckles white, her thoughts frantic. Michael. Where is he? She couldn't shake the image of his impulsive charge, the raw power radiating off him… and then nothing.
The silence in the dorms was thick, suffocating. No one dared to speak the words aloud, but the question lingered in everyone's mind:
What will happen to Michael?
MICHAEL'S WORLD WAS IN TENSION.
His body was battered, his mind clouded, his pride shattered.
Who would save him?
Would this be another scar in his relentless journey—or the wound that finally broke him?