Mr. Xiao’s words drifted out and found their first welco not with Don, not with Charles, but with Starboy—who smirked—and Dean Sanchez, who nearly bead.
"Yes, yes, this will be wonderful for the school," Sanchez said quickly, voice almost cracking with enthusiasm. He adjusted his cheap blazer like it was silk, then turned to face Don and the others. "Congratulations—you’re already making the school proud."
Don and Charles both held back scoffs. Neither had forgotten that, by the look of things, Sanchez, or Xiao, had nearly cost them this chance. Not the opportunity as a whole, perhaps, but the mont with Strauman—gone.
Starboy cut in before anyone could speak further, stepping toward the desk with that easy stride of his. "It’s too early for congratulations, don’t you think, Dean?" His voice carried smugness like perfu, thick enough to taint the air. "After all, only those of us imdiately eligible for entry can be considered guaranteed recruits."
The jab was obvious.
Thunderclap’s jaw flexed hard, teeth grinding audibly. Frostbite’s expression faltered—her composure cracked into a faint frown.
Starboy’s smirk widened at their reactions. He then turned, crossing his arms before facing Charles.
"But I must say, Charles," he went on, gold aviators flashing against the overhead lights, "I’m disappointed. For even your lackey to be eligible, but not you."
He laughed then, short, triumphant.
Charles didn’t move, though his fingers twitched. Irritation hung visible even behind the mirrored lenses. But he wasn’t the one who answered.
It was Don.
He let out a low scoff that rolled into a quiet chuckle. His lips tugged into a smirk, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Why do you sound so proud," Don said, tone deliberately mild, "when we’ll still just be recruits? You make it sound like you’ve already achieved it all when this is just the start."
His voice lowered, slower now.
"The only disappointnt here is you... Timothy."
The na was dropped with clear intent, arrogance wrapped in targeted mockery.
Frostbite’s mouth curved before she could stop it. A faint smirk, even a soft chuckle. Charles shifted beside Don, irritation cooling into amusent.
Starboy, however—his face snapped into a scowl.
"What did you just say to !?"
His body blurred before the words had even finished. A burst of wind erupted from his position, thunderous in its suddenness.
WHOOMPH~
Frostbite’s chair toppled, her body thrown sideways onto the floor with a startled gasp. Sanchez yelped, shoved back into a bookshelf where he collapsed in a heap, papers and books raining down around him. Phantom Strike’s hood flew back, balaclava stark under the fluorescent lights.
Thunderclap raised an arm against the gale, teeth bared. Xiao simply lifted a single hand, smirk still etched on his face even as loose pages whipped violently across the desk.
Starboy was already in motion, gold chain flashing, aviators jolting loose from his face. His fist cocked back, air splitting in his wake.
Charles turned sharply, ready to dodge—until he realized Don wasn’t moving. No shift, no flinch. He looked as though he hadn’t even considered dodging.
And then—
BOOM~
Don’s forearms snapped up, blocking the strike. The impact rattled the office—windows trembled in their fras, desk drawers jolted open, the bookshelf behind Sanchez groaned.
The screen of Don’s watch spider-webbed with cracks instantly. His silver chain jerked against his neck, rattling against his collarbone. His shirt rippled from the gust as the chains on Starboy’s belt clinked violently.
Xiao rose from his chair, the smile finally thinning as though he was about to intervene.
But Don moved first.
His left hand opened sharply, palm slamming forward. He released a fraction of the force he’d absorbed from Starboy’s blow.
The recoil blasted outward. Starboy’s aviators flew from his face entirely, clattering against the floor and skidding across tiles. His boots scraped as he reset his stance instantly, irritation written plain across his features.
He planted his feet, preparing to pull back—ready to launch another burst with the sa montum he’d arrived with.
But he didn’t move.
Don’s eyes glowed faintly—blue light tracing the outer rims of his pupils. Starboy’s body locked mid-step, seized by sothing unseen.
It wasn’t overwhelming. Not crushing. But it was enough. Enough to halt motion in the briefest, most crucial instant—when speed was his weapon. The invisible grip wrapped him like weighted steel bands across his limbs, just firm enough to hold when he needed freedom most.
Starboy’s instincts scread. He forced his gaze back toward Don, his breath catching at what he saw.
Not Don’s whole fra. Not his expression.
Just the palm of his open hand, filling his view, fingers spread wide.
Contact imminent.
Starboy’s eyes widened, the mont stretching almost unnaturally as Don’s palm filled his view. He barely had the thought to brace before it closed around his face.
Don drove him downward.
The rest of the force he’d absorbed poured through the motion, telekinetic grip breaking at the sa ti. It was enough. Balance gone, montum against him, Starboy’s body buckled.
BOOM~
His head struck the tiles. The floor cracked in a wide ring, the impact leaving a shallow imprint shaped against his skull. The shock jolted his body, limbs stiffening with the kind of tingling numbness that left muscles twitching.
But sensation was already flooding back. Starboy pushed against it, arms drawing inward—until Don’s hand slid from his face to his throat.
THMP~
Pinned hard, head forced back into the marble. Starboy’s body jerked, breath cutting off in a rough choke. His hands clawed, but his strength didn’t translate into leverage.
"I think that’s enough."
The words cut low, soft, but they carried. Xiao’s voice rippled through the office with sothing beyond tone.
Don felt it imdiately. A stabbing pulse in his skull, a headache sudden and violent, making him groan as his grip slackened.
Starboy wheezed free, twisting out and away with a blur of speed. He rose sharply, boots scraping against tile before he shot backward to the desk. His hand clamped over the edge, the other rubbing at his temple like the headache clung stubbornly. His hair was wild now, his shirt disheveled, chain crooked. He never looked away from Don.
The stare burned.
Around them, the others ca back into focus.
Frostbite had regained her footing, brushing her sweater down with a sharp tug before lifting her palm toward Starboy. Cold spread instantly, the office air tightening, a visible haze touching the edges of the room.
Her eyes were narrowed, her frown sharp.
But Xiao spoke again, this ti without the echo. "Need I repeat myself?"
Frostbite’s hand lowered reluctantly, though her gaze stayed on Starboy. He ignored her entirely, hatred fixated on Don, his lip curled like the sight of him was enough to sour the air.
Don adjusted his collar with one hand, brushing dust from his shirt. He smoothed the cracked face of his watch with his thumb, then dropped his hand without a word, ignoring Starboy’s glare entirely.
Dean Sanchez stumbled upright from his heap near the toppled bookshelf. His suit was wrinkled worse than before, a scattering of books and fras littering the floor around him. His face twisted with uncharacteristic anger as he surveyed the ss.
"This is unacceptable!" he barked toward the room in general. "To use powers to such a degree is—"
"It’s quite alright, Dean."
Xiao’s hand rose, calm and effortless. The interruption silenced Sanchez instantly.
"I’m sure both were just a little too excited and let their emotions get the best of them," Xiao said smoothly, settling back into the dean’s chair as if nothing had happened. "There is far too much to cover to dwell on this, so..."
He leaned back, posture loose, smirk returned. "We might as well return to the matter at hand. I take it you’re all interested, so I won’t waste any more of your ti. You shall all be contacted privately soon to ask any other questions you may have."
Charles turned first, adjusting his aviators. "Good," he said, voice cool. He glanced at Sanchez as he added, "I have quite a few questions for the school."
His shoes clicked against the marble as he turned to leave.
Don followed, brushing past the scattered papers, ready to step out of the office.
"Mr. Bright."
Xiao’s voice stopped him.
Don glanced back. Xiao’s fingers drumd lazily against the armrest, his smile carved just as smug as when he first sat down.
"Could I bother you to stay for a mont?" His tone was silk, practiced. "There’s sothing I’d like for us to discuss."
———
A/N: VOLU 4 WARNING
Just wanted to give you all a quick heads up about the new volu. Up till this point, I’ve been quite restrained in what thes I show and how I show them, mostly because my focus had been building the core foundation (basic world lore, essential character relationships). Personally, I still feel I didn’t cover everything I’d have liked but it’s enough for most readers to not be confused by coming developnt (I hope).
As for the focus of this volu, there’s multiple, with the main ones being struggles, rivalries and character growth for certain characters.
The warning I wanted to give was in regards to more graphic content. It won’t be anything too much but it will aim to expand on the darker thes of the world.
In addition to the above, so of the thes may center around sensitive topics and beliefs. So of these may resonate with you or may align closely with beliefs or strong opinions you have. So I wanted to make it clear none of what I write is ant to promote or denounce any beliefs, views, races, and so on.
What I write is purely for the sake of building a proper functioning world, the good and the bad, as the story goes on.
With that said, I hope you enjoy the volu.
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