The arena trembled beneath Aira's feet. Flames burst from her hands, swirling violently around her as the air thickened with heat and smoke. She could feel her control slipping again, her lungs burning, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. It was happening—just like the night she followed Zara.
Something inside her wasn't hers anymore.
It was darker. Hungrier.
Her fire obeyed someone else's will now.
The teachers yelled her name, their voices echoing through the hall, but they sounded distant—muted under the roar of the inferno. She saw Aelric running toward her, his lips moving, but she couldn't hear him. Josh's face flashed somewhere in the crowd, panicked, Zara's too.
And then she saw him.
The same shadowed man she'd glimpsed that night. Standing among the flames as if they couldn't touch him—tall, calm, eyes burning like coals in the dark. The same presence that had tried to drag her down before.
Her knees buckled. The air around her exploded in a storm of heat and wind, knocking everyone back. Aira screamed, fighting the pull with everything she had—fire clashing against fire, power tearing through her veins.
For a second, it felt like her body would break apart.
But then—she remembered something Aelric had said during training: "You control the power. It doesn't control you."
She took a breath—just one, steady breath—and pushed back.
Her fire bent to her will, swirling into a perfect ring before extinguishing completely.
Silence.
The crowd froze. Aira stood trembling, smoke curling off her skin. Her body ached, her clothes were half burnt, but she was alive. The man—the dark one—was gone.
Aelric and Zara ran toward her, followed by the teachers.
"Aira—what did you do?" one of them shouted. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head weakly. "It wasn't me. Someone—someone else tried to control my power."
Everyone exchanged confused looks. A few of them whispered that she was delirious.
"I'm not lying!" Aira's voice cracked. "There was a man—he was right there, I saw him!"
The head instructor frowned. "There was no one else in the arena, Miss Aira. Your powers simply overreacted."
Aira's breath hitched. "You don't understand—he's real—"
Zara put a hand on her shoulder, eyes worried. Josh looked like he wanted to speak up, but even he stayed quiet under the teachers' gaze. Only Aelric kept staring at Aira, his expression unreadable.
When the final report came in, the verdict wasn't what she expected.
"You didn't fail, Miss Aira," the instructor said finally. "But you didn't pass either. You're suspended from training for now—until we can understand what happened."
Suspended. Not expelled. But it still felt like defeat.
The cheers from the earlier students faded as she walked out of the arena. Her body felt heavy, her mind fogged. She turned one last time toward the scorched floor where she'd stood—and swore she saw a shadow move, disappearing into the smoke.
Then everything went dark.
The soft buzz of her phone dragged Aira out of a restless sleep. She opened her eyes slowly, the sterile white of the infirmary ceiling swimming into view. Her entire body felt heavy, as if the flames from the arena had burned through her bones.
She groaned and sat up, pressing the phone to her ear. Zara's sleepy voice on the other side muttered, "Hey, you okay? They said you passed out…"
"I'm fine, just tired".Aira murmured automatically, but her voice cracked.
Rest, okay? You freaked us out."
"Yeah," Aira murmured, her throat dry. "Goodnight."
After their conversation ended, in the room felt too thick, almost pressing against her ears. She sat there for a moment, her head spinning, pieces of the test flashing in her mind — the flames, the invisible force trying to choke her, and that presence again.
Aira jolted awake to the harsh vibration of her phone. Her head was pounding, her vision blurry. She reached for it, only to see it was an unknown number. A faint chill ran down her spine. She dropped it—and then her eyes caught something moving in the mirror.
Her breath hitched.
He was there.
Not a shadow. Not a trick of her tired mind. A man—tall, impossibly poised, sitting in the corner of her room. His coat was black, his shirt black, everything about him dark and sharp. Clean-shaven jaw, hair perfectly in place, eyes a deep, unnerving purple that seemed to pierce right through her.
Aira's body froze. Her knees nearly buckled. She could barely breathe. This can't be real. Her mind screamed it couldn't be.
"You…" she whispered, voice trembling, almost inaudible. "You're real…"
He smirked, that cruel, effortless smirk that made her chest tighten. "Shocked to see me? I expected as much. I am… not supposed to exist in your little world, yet here I am. And you—" He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on hers. "…you are the mistake."
Aira's heart was hammering in her chest. "I-I don't understand… what do you mean?"
"You shouldn't be alive. You shouldn't have power. None of this should exist in you." His voice was soft, almost lazy—but every word cut like a blade. "I took it all. Every trace of what you should have been. And yet… somehow, you're still standing. Tell me, Aira… how?"
"I… I don't know!" she stammered, taking a step back, her hands trembling. "I fought! I—I controlled it! I passed the test!"
He laughed, dark and low. "Barely survived, you mean. Barely scraping by. Don't flatter yourself. You're fragile. Temporary. A fluke."
Aira's mind raced. This can't be real. This is a dream. This is impossible. Her eyes darted around, looking for some escape, some way to wake up. "Why are you here? Why now?"
"Because your existence is a problem. A problem I intend to fix," he said smoothly, rising from the chair. Every step he took toward her made her chest tighten, made her stomach twist. "You weren't supposed to be anything. Not alive, not powerful. And yet here you are, defying the order I set in place."
Her hands shook. She wanted to scream, to run, to strike—but her body felt paralyzed. He's real. He's right here.
Before she could even speak, the door creaked. "Aira?" Zara's groggy voice sounded behind her. "Who are you talking to?"
Aira whipped around. "H-he's—"
But the chair was empty. The window swung open with a gust of wind. The room was quiet again. He was gone.
And Aira realized, with a sick twist in her stomach, that this wasn't a dream. He had been real.