Chapter 21 - Chapter 20: Breaking Point

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Selena hovered just outside the staff room, her chest heaving with anxiety as her heart hammered wildly. Anissa, sitting quietly behind her expansive desk piled high with student tests, suddenly froze. Without even glancing upward from the latest papers she'd been grading, Anissa spoke calmly and with authoritative certainty.

"I can hear your stupidly fast heartbeat, you know."

Selena's breath caught painfully in her throat. Her spine went rigid, tension rippling sharply through her muscles. She silently cursed herself for lingering, for hesitating, for giving Anissa even the slightest reason to address her directly.

Hatred flared bitterly within her heart—a familiar, almost comforting sensation. Pureblooded Viltrumites always filled her with such resentment, their existence a constant reminder of her inferiority as a half-breed. The other full Viltrumites viewed Selena and her half-blood classmates as unwanted, unworthy—mere echoes of traitors who had dared defy the Empire. Each of the twenty half-blood girls at this school lived beneath the shadow of their parents' shame, constantly judged, scrutinised, and silently scorned.

But unlike most of her peers, Selena actively despised the Empire that condemned her lineage. She vividly remembered her parents' love, how tenderly her father, strong and defiant, had once embraced her mother, how he'd smiled softly as he held her tiny body in powerful, protective arms. Those precious memories had stayed vividly intact due to her photographic memory, an endless source of both comfort and torment.

She'd been only two when the Empire finally came, tearing her family apart and liberating the world in the name of the Empire. The images burned into her consciousness, fueling quiet rage that simmered beneath her stoic surface. Unlike her half-blood peers, who mostly sought validation and acceptance within Viltrum, Selena craved something far different—revenge, rebellion, and ultimately, freedom.

Yet, despite this, she had built her own small empire at the academy, ruling as queen bee among the half-blood girls, creating a hierarchy where she sat unchallenged atop her tiny kingdom. She relished their respectful glances, their fearful obedience, and the way they responded to her every command. Power, however small, was intoxicating.

But now, against every logical instinct, Selena felt something different stirring within her. Anissa—pure Viltrumite, war veteran, a fucking general, a decorated warrior—somehow occupied her thoughts relentlessly. Over months, those feelings evolved from begrudging respect to confusion, to an embarrassing warmth that flustered her deeply. She despised herself for such weakness, even more terrified that acknowledging it aloud could land her in some twisted rehabilitation program for mental weakness.

The sound of papers shuffling pulled Selena abruptly from her chaotic thoughts. Panicking, she turned quickly, preparing to flee—but froze, breath-stopping sharply as Anissa appeared instantaneously in front of her, blocking her path.

'When did she? I couldn't see her move.' Selena thought as she clenched her teeth in surprise.

Selena's heart leapt violently, the terrifying speed at which Anissa moved far surpassing any Viltrumite she'd ever witnessed before. Anissa stared down imperiously, lips curling into a mocking smirk.

"With the way you're staring at me," Anissa remarked coldly, "one might assume you're issuing a challenge. Why, then, are you showing me your back?"

Selena swallowed painfully, her throat dry. Fuck—she'd forgotten Anissa's veteran instincts. How many beings had Anissa faced in battle across countless worlds? Averting one's gaze could easily be mistaken as a direct provocation, a challenge to combat.

Before Selena could utter a single word, Anissa leaned closer, her voice dripping contempt. "Why are you stuttering? Aren't you usually so confident, Selena? Or is this how thin-blooded Viltrumites behave when truly tested?"

A flash of unbridled fury ignited within Selena's chest. "Thinblooded," a cruel slur hurled so casually—exactly what Selena secretly hated most. Her instincts overtook reason instantly, rage clouding every judgment. Her eyes narrowed venomously as she lunged forward with sudden, explosive force, hands reaching desperately to grasp Anissa's throat.

But Anissa simply stepped aside, allowing Selena's momentum to crash her directly through the reinforced wall, debris scattering violently in all directions. Before Selena could even gasp in shock or pain, Anissa gripped her long, silken black hair and dragged her roughly through the air, zipping through corridors toward a designated training room, deftly avoiding staff and other students in a dazzling display of speed and skill.

The training room's reinforced doors hissed shut behind them, sealing tightly with a resounding clang. Selena crashed to the polished metallic floor, face scraping harshly against its unforgiving surface. Anissa hovered calmly above her, crossing her muscular arms impatiently.

"Be quick," Anissa snapped sharply, eyes narrowing in disdain. "I still have papers to grade. And regardless of this battle's outcome, your reckless behaviour will be penalized accordingly."

At least she doesn't plan on killing me outright, Selena thought darkly, pushing herself painfully upright. Her fury boiled hotter, fueling adrenaline and desperation. Anissa was stronger, faster—clearly superior. But surrender was unthinkable, impossible.

Selena surged upward, throwing her entire body behind a powerful punch aimed directly at Anissa's face. But Anissa effortlessly intercepted her fist, crushing Selena's bones as easily as crumpling paper. A sickening crack echoed harshly, Selena's scream cutting short as Anissa struck her swiftly, silencing the cry of agony immediately.

"If you have time to scream, you have time to fight," Anissa sneered coldly, tossing Selena across the training room like a discarded toy.

Selena slammed into the opposite wall, vision swimming with agony and humiliation. Yet, bizarrely, her emotions twisted further—not just rage now, but confusion, hurt, and still, embarrassingly, a desperate longing she couldn't comprehend.

Sensing Selena's chaotic turmoil, Anissa gripped her head harshly, pulling her close, eyes blazing in contempt. "Is this it? Are you really this weak, Selena? You're meant to be the strongest among the half-bloods according to the reports I have received, yet you're utterly pathetic."

Anissa's free hand straightened menacingly like a lethal blade, hovering mere inches from Selena's neck. "Right now, I could end your miserable existence. But protocol demands that another Viltrumite witness any death challenge. Consider yourself lucky—this once."

Yet, beneath Anissa's brutal words lingered confusion and hesitation. Something deep within her, unexpected and troubling, stirred strangely at Selena's trembling form. Anissa faltered briefly, shaken. What was this feeling—pity? Empathy? Impossible. Not for a warrior like her.

Selena's ragged breathing shifted suddenly into soft, broken sobs. Tears rolled unbidden, humiliatingly down her face, blurring her vision entirely. She felt utterly exposed, broken, worthless—a disgraceful failure.

"What the fuck is this?" Anissa demanded harshly, her voice quivering unexpectedly. Selena's vulnerability confused her and weakened something within herself. With sudden revulsion—at both herself and Selena, Anissa dropped the sobbing girl roughly to the floor.

Selena curled inward, clutching her ruined hand, body wracked by quiet, helpless sobs. Anissa backed away slowly, eyes widening in disbelief at her own trembling hands.

Shaking. Why am I shaking? A veteran trembling over a thinblood's pitiful display—impossible, shameful.

"I—I'll talk to you later, Selena," Anissa murmured softly, unable to meet the broken girl's gaze, quickly exiting the room without looking back.

The silence afterwards hung heavily, oppressive and unbearable. Selena remained motionless on the floor, slowly regaining composure, humiliation giving way gradually to a strange, bittersweet clarity. Pain and shame blended confusingly with gratitude—because for a moment, Anissa had seemed human, vulnerable… just like her.

Yet Selena's heart twisted painfully. Her feelings for Anissa were now impossibly tangled—hatred, admiration, fear, desire—each emotion clashing violently within. Could she ever understand this chaos inside herself? But what did she desire about Anissa? Her strength? Her fearlessness? Her great speed? Or the fact that someone of her position is down here attending to the bastards of the Empire?

Gently, painstakingly, Selena rose, nursing her shattered pride and hand equally. Whatever had just happened changed everything. She had tasted both her weakness and Anissa's strength. Something inside had cracked, irrevocably altered by a single moment of vulnerability.

Anissa, meanwhile, stormed down empty halls, mind spinning with confusion, anger, and disgust. She despised weakness—yet now felt intimately touched by it, infected even. She knew something inside herself had shifted irrevocably, something dangerously soft, unfamiliar, terrifying.

The walls of Viltrumite discipline had splintered tonight, for both of them.

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