"Is it?" Reeves leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. "Because what I saw on that security footage looked like three separate abilities with no adaptation period between them. Structural manipulation for the stretching. Spatial manipulation for the portal. Gravitational manipulation for the restraint."
"My Essentia’s full capabilities are classified through Angelo Corporation," I said smoothly. "But that’s not why you called here, is it, Professor?"
Her eyebrows rose slightly, the only indication that I’d surprised her. "Perceptive. You’re right, Mr. D’Angelo. While your registration status concerns , I’m more interested in sothing else."
She stood up and walked to the window, her back to . Her figure was outlined perfectly against the morning light—tall, curved in all the right places, with the kind of posture that suggested she knew exactly how good she looked from every angle.
"I’ve been teaching at this academy for three years," she said without turning around. "In that ti, I’ve seen thousands of students with varying levels of ability and potential. But I’ve never seen anyone quite like you."
"I’m flattered."
"Don’t be." She turned to face . "It wasn’t necessarily a complint."
She walked back to her desk but didn’t sit down. Instead, she perched on the edge, much closer to than before. Her perfu slled expensive—sothing floral with an underlying sharpness.
"Tell , Mr. D’Angelo. What do you know about Drain-types?"
My blood went cold. I kept my face carefully blank. "Not much. They’re rare, aren’t they?"
"Exceedingly. The last docunted case was over seventy years ago. A man who could temporarily borrow another person’s Essentia through physical contact." She watched intently. "He eventually died when he tried to drain soone with incompatible Essentia. His body simply...rejected it."
"Sounds unpleasant."
"Indeed." She leaned forward slightly. "Which is why I find it so fascinating that your abilities bear such a striking resemblance to those of your classmates. Spatial manipulation very similar to Ms. Cross’s. Gravitational control reminiscent of...well, that one’s interesting, because no one in your class has publicly demonstrated such an ability."
"As I said, my full capabilities are—"
"Classified through Angelo Corporation. Yes, you ntioned that." She waved a hand dismissively. "A convenient excuse."
I felt my temper flaring. "It’s not an excuse. It’s the truth."
"Is it?" She raised an eyebrow. "Or is it what your father’s lawyers told you to say if questioned?"
I stood up, tired of being interrogated. "If you’re accusing of sothing, Professor, I’d like to know what it is."
She smiled, completely unfazed by my sudden movent. "I’m not accusing you of anything, Mr. D’Angelo. I’m offering you an opportunity."
That wasn’t what I expected. "What kind of opportunity?"
"The kind that could benefit us both." She stood as well, bringing us uncomfortably close together. I caught a better whiff of her perfu—roses and sothing tallic, like blood. "You see, I’ve been conducting research on rare Essentia manifestations. The kind that don’t fit neatly into the NEA’s classification system."
"And you think I’d make a good lab rat?" I scoffed.
"I think you’d make an excellent research partner." She corrected , her voice dropping lower. "Soone with your...unique attributes could provide valuable insights. And in return, I could help ensure that no one looks too closely at those classified abilities of yours."
I narrowed my eyes. "You’re offering to protect from scrutiny in exchange for letting you study ?"
"Study with you," she emphasized. "As equals. I’m not interested in poking and prodding you like so NEA technician. I want to understand how your Essentia works, how it interacts with others, what its limits are."
"And if I refuse?"
Her smile widened slightly. "Then I suppose the NEA might receive an anonymous tip about a student with abilities that don’t match his registration. They take such things quite seriously, you know. Mandatory testing, quarantine procedures, the works."
"That sounds like blackmail, Professor."
"I prefer to think of it as mutually assured motivation." She took a step back, giving space to breathe. "Consider it, at least. We could learn a great deal from each other."
I weighed my options. Reeves clearly suspected sothing about my true nature, but she didn’t have proof. If she did, she would have gone to the authorities already. Instead, she wanted to study —which ant she was curious, not certain.
I could use that.
"What would this research partnership entail, exactly?" I asked cautiously.
"Private sessions. After hours. Just you and exploring the boundaries of your abilities in a controlled environnt." She returned to her desk and sat down. "Nothing that would interfere with your regular classes or your social life."
The way she said "social life" made think she knew about ra and Cheon. Had she been watching that closely?
"I’ll need ti to think about it," I said finally.
"Of course." She nodded, back to being the professional professor. "Take until Wednesday. But be aware, Mr. D’Angelo, that ti is a luxury you may not have much of. The longer you remain in the public eye, the more questions will be asked."
I stood to leave, then paused at the door. "One question, Professor."
"Yes?"
"Why are you really interested in my abilities? What’s in this for you?"
Her smile turned enigmatic. "Let’s just say I recognize potential when I see it. And yours is...considerable."
Sothing about the way she said it sent a shiver down my spine—not entirely unpleasant, but definitely unsettling.
"Wednesday," I confird, and left her office.
As I walked down the hallway, my phone buzzed with a text from ra: Still alive?
I typed back: For now. But I think I just got propositioned by a professor.
Her reply ca imdiately: Told you so. Details later?
I pocketed my phone without responding. Reeves’s offer played in my mind. Private sessions. After hours. Just the two of us. It sounded suspiciously like the setup to sothing that had nothing to do with academic research.
And yet...if she really did suspect I was a Drain-type, I couldn’t afford to have her digging too deeply. Better to keep her close, control what she learned about , than risk her going to the authorities with her suspicions.
Plus, if her interest was more than professional, that might open other possibilities. The system wanted to collect seven heroines. Could Reeves be one of them?
I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes until my first class. Just enough ti to grab coffee and prepare for my next challenge: facing Noel and her interrogation this afternoon.
One crisis at a ti.
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