The sound of bubbling water echoed through the cold, metallic chamber. Faint light flickered from the overhead lamps, casting uneasy shadows across the room.
Two figures stood before a massive glass tank filled with a pale blue liquid. Inside floated a young girl — her silver hair drifting softly, her eyes closed as if lost in endless sleep. Tubes connected to her body pulsed with dim light.
"Her power is strong…" murmured a voice from the darkness.
"Boss," Sang Fei spoke hesitantly, her voice trembling. "We can't keep doing this. It's too dangerous for her. The experiment's level is too high — it could damage her brain, maybe even erase her emotions."
The older figure turned slightly, revealing cold, sharp eyes. "I can do whatever I want, Sang Fei. Arleyong can save her own life with that power of hers. She'll thank me one day."
Sang Fei clenched her fists. Through the glass, she could see the girl twitch, faint ripples spreading through the liquid.
"But boss… if we keep pushing her like this, she'll die."
"Shut it!" The voice snapped like a whip. "My experiments are far more successful than yours. I just want to test her — that's all."
Silence fell again, broken only by the hum of machinery and the girl's faint, struggling breaths.
Sang Fei turned away with a sigh. "Tch… fine. I'll respect your choice."
Her words faded into the sound of the machines, as Arleyong's body trembled inside the tank — caught between life, death, and the birth of unimaginable power.
The next afternoon, the sound of heavy chains echoed softly down the corridor. Arleyong was led from the laboratory to a dimly lit cell — her so-called room, but it looked more like a cage. Metal bars glinted faintly under the pale light, and the air smelled faintly of steel and chemicals.
She sat quietly inside, hugging her knees. The silence was broken by the slow click of heels approaching.
"Arleyong, my dear," the familiar cold voice spoke.
Sang Fei stood a few steps behind, her gaze lowered. She didn't respond, only tightened her grip on the clipboard in her hands.
"Sang Fei," the voice called again.
"Yes?" she replied softly.
"Next week," the boss said, smiling faintly, "we'll take her to her new school. Perhaps she'll make some friends there. Arleyong must be so lonely in this cage."
Arleyong turned her head aside, saying nothing. Her silver hair slid across her face like a curtain, hiding the faint flicker in her dull eyes.
"Boss," Sang Fei said hesitantly, "we already know her power is too strong. What if she loses control and hurts someone?"
The boss's expression twisted into something cruelly amused. "Then I'll teach her a lesson."
He reached for the metallic device on the nearby table — a sleek, black electronic gun, humming faintly with blue light.
Arleyong's eyes widened. "No—" her voice trembled, quiet but filled with fear.
The boss only smirked. "Good. At least you can still feel fear."
Sang Fei turned away, unable to watch as the girl silently clenched her fists, her shadow twitching faintly beneath her — alive, like it wanted to strike back.
The experiment began before dawn, when the facility still smelled of cold metal and stale disinfectant. The boss oversaw everything with practised calm, eyes like chips of ice as machines hummed and wires threaded into Arleyong's skin. Lights dimmed, sensors blinked, and the tank beside her glowed with that same pale blue liquid.
They pushed the levels higher. Voltage licked through the tubes. Arleyong's body convulsed under the restraints; her breath came in ragged pulls. Her shadow under the tank shivered and stretched, as if trying to climb out of the glass and wrap itself around her. The boss watched with the expression of a man counting profit — clinical, uninterested in the person behind the power.
"Push it," he ordered softly.
Sang Fei stayed by the console, hands trembling. She read the numbers, swallowed, and lowered them with a furtive hope that it would help — but the boss's hand stopped her, and the machine obeyed his voice instead. Arleyong's lashes fluttered; her face pinched, mouth shaping a sound that didn't reach anyone's ears. Little droplets of water steamed up from the tank where her forehead pressed against the glass.
Pain carved lines across her features until her body finally slackened. The tremors faded. Machines logged the sudden drop in output; alarms whispered and then quieted. In the hush left behind, Arleyong's chest rose and fell in slow, shallow waves — and then she went still.
"She's out," Sang Fei said, voice raw.
The boss shrugged, folding his hands. "Needed to see the limits," he said. "We learned enough for today."
They carried Arleyong back to the cage on a sheet, her silver hair damp and clinging to her skin. Her eyes were closed; the light behind her lids flickered like a distant, dying star. Sang Fei watched each movement as if memorising the girl: the slack of her jaw, the way her fingers fell limply at her side. The guilt in her chest was a living thing — sharp and insistent.
When the others left, the corridor emptied into an aching silence. Sang Fei lingered by the door, fingers ghosting the metal handle as if she could will herself to stay. She told herself she had no right to interfere. Still, the image of Arleyong's small, trembling hands would not leave her.
At dusk, when footsteps had died away and the boss's voice no longer echoed through the halls, Sang Fei moved. She took a small container from the staff pantry — a portion of steamed rice and a single braised egg, wrapped hastily in foil. Her uniform smelled faintly of the kitchen; she folded the food into her arms like contraband.
She approached the cage with measured steps. Through the bars, Arleyong lay curled in the corner, skin pale, lips slightly parted. Her breath was the softest of sea sounds. Sang Fei hesitated for a beat, then pushed the food through the gap. The foil rustled. The scent of warm rice and soy drifted in; it seemed absurdly domestic against the clinical smell of the room.
Arleyong's fingers twitched. She blinked once, slow and disoriented, then reached for the food with a tentative, hungry motion. She ate in small, careful bites, as if testing whether nourishment was real. Sang Fei watched, the tightness around her chest loosening in a small, guilty way.
When the bowl was empty, Arleyong folded back into herself and closed her eyes. A quiet peace settled over her as sleep took her — not the terrified twitching of earlier, but an exhausted surrender. Sang Fei let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. For a moment she allowed herself to smile, soft and almost ashamed.
Then she turned and left, footsteps light on the concrete. She did not lock the door. She did not say goodbye.
Inside the cage, Arleyong breathed on, the faint rise and fall of her chest fading into the machinery's distant hum. The shadow at her feet pooled, slower now, as if content to wait until she woke.
A week later, the morning sun bled faintly through the high windows of the facility — the first real light Arleyong had seen in years. Dust floated in the golden rays, soft and almost warm compared to the steel-grey world she'd lived in.
"Take Arleyong out of the cage," the boss ordered, his tone clipped and casual, as if commanding a machine. "We're going to her new school today."
Two guards unlocked the cell. Chains rattled faintly as Arleyong was guided out. She walked slowly, her movements still heavy from the last experiment.
The boss approached, holding a small black bag with a faint smirk.
"Here, Arleyong," he said. "Your cute school bag."
She took it without a word. Her reflection in the bag's polished surface looked foreign — pale skin, tired eyes, faint shadows moving behind her pupils.
They left the facility soon after. The car's tinted windows hid the outside world from her view, but she could still see glimpses — trees, sunlight, and people walking freely on the streets. It felt unreal, like another world entirely.
Sang Fei sat beside her, hands folded tightly in her lap. She kept glancing toward Arleyong, wanting to say something, but every time she tried, the words died in her throat.
Arleyong simply stared out the window, expression blank. The hum of the engine filled the silence between them.
When they arrived at Lunaria High School, the car rolled to a stop near the front gate. Students in bright uniforms were already chatting, laughing, living ordinary lives — a sound that made Arleyong's heart feel strangely heavy.
Sang Fei stepped out first, then opened Arleyong's door and offered her hand. Arleyong hesitated, then took it, stepping into the sunlight for the first time in forever.
Sang Fei adjusted Arleyong's collar slightly and smiled faintly. "Arleyong, take care of yourself," she said softly. "Make some friends, and… don't use your powers, okay? I trust you."
Arleyong looked at her for a moment — no words, just a slow nod.
Then she turned away, walking toward the school gate, her black bag slung over one shoulder. The breeze lifted her silver hair slightly, and for the first time, she felt the warmth of morning light on her skin.
Behind her, Sang Fei watched silently, whispering under her breath,
"Please… just be free."
Arleyong walked slowly through the school courtyard, her footsteps quiet against the concrete. The sounds of laughter and chatter surrounded her — alien and distant. Her silver hair caught the sunlight, shimmering faintly like moonlight trapped in daylight.
She was lost in thought when something suddenly crashed into her back.
Thud!
"Hm—" Arleyong grunted softly but didn't fall. She stood perfectly still, her balance unshaken.
"Ah! Ouch, my head…" A girl's voice groaned from behind her. When Arleyong turned slightly, she saw a student crouched on the ground, rubbing her head. The girl looked up — short brown hair, soft golden eyes that seemed to glow with warmth.
"Are you okay?" the girl asked quickly, her tone full of worry. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going."
Arleyong blinked, her face calm and unreadable. She raised her hand and gave a small wave — her silent way of saying she was fine.
The girl smiled in relief. "Phew… that's good. I thought I hurt you or something."
Arleyong said nothing, only nodded faintly. For a moment, the girl just stared at her — at the pale glow of her hair, the cold stillness in her eyes.
Something about her presence felt… different.
Before Arleyong could walk away, the girl's lips curved into a bright grin.
"I'm Erina! Nice to meet you!"
Arleyong paused, eyes flickering with something faint — confusion, maybe curiosity. Then she replied softly, almost a whisper:
"…Arleyong."
Erina tilted her head, eyes lighting up as she repeated the name softly.
"Ohhhh, Arleyong~ That's such a rare name," she said with a grin. "Hmm… you must be new here, right?"
Arleyong nodded slowly, her expression calm as ever.
"Oh, nice," Erina replied cheerfully. "Welcome to Lunaria High!"
Before Arleyong could respond, the shrill ring of the school bell cut through the air.
Erina jumped. "Ah crap, that's the bell! I need to get back before my teacher kicks my ass out again!"
She glanced at Arleyong, then brightened suddenly. "Oh, wait! Let me take you to the office first — you still need to know your class, right? Come on!"
Without hesitation, Erina took Arleyong's hand and pulled her along the hallway. Arleyong's eyes widened a little at the sudden contact — warm fingers wrapped around her cold ones. She didn't pull away.
They entered the main office, where a teacher sat behind a desk stacked with papers.
"Excuse me!" Erina said quickly. "This is the new student — Arleyong. Can you check which class she's in?"
The teacher adjusted her glasses, scanning through a list. "Hmm… Arleyong, right? Let me see… Ah, here. You're in Class 1-C."
Erina blinked. "Wait— what? 1-C?!" She gasped dramatically, then laughed. "Arleyong's gonna be my classmate?! Haha! Lucky you, Arleyong!"
Arleyong didn't react, her face as calm as still water.
Erina pouted slightly, then giggled. "Alright, alright, I get it — you're the quiet type. Let's get back before our teacher flips out, hehe."
She waved goodbye to the office staff and tugged gently on Arleyong's hand again. As they walked down the hallway together, the contrast between them couldn't have been clearer — the light and the shadow, side by side.
The classroom door slid open with a faint creak.
Erina peeked in and winced. "Ohh… teacher's already here. But it's fine— she always forgives me," she whispered with a grin, still holding onto Arleyong's hand as if she'd forget how to walk without her.
"Madam Ting~!" Erina called as they entered.
The teacher — a woman in her thirties with neat glasses and a calm but sharp expression — looked up from her attendance sheet. "Erina…" she sighed, adjusting her papers. Then her gaze shifted toward Arleyong. "Ah, the new student. I almost forgot."
Erina laughed nervously. "Hehe, lucky you, Madam Ting. I took her to the office before she got lost forever!"
Madam Ting gave a small nod. "Good job, Erina. Now, both of you, come in. Erina, go back to your seat. And you, dear — please introduce yourself."
Arleyong stood silently at the front of the class. Thirty pairs of eyes were fixed on her. The room buzzed with whispers.
"Hey, she's pretty, isn't she?"
"Look at her hair— it's silver. Is that even allowed?"
"She looks kinda emo… but damn, she's pretty."
Arleyong's gaze stayed low. Her voice was quiet but clear when she finally spoke.
"I'm Arleyong. Thirteen years old. No hobby." She paused, then added flatly, "Can I sit now, Madam Ting?"
A few students snickered, whispering again. Madam Ting blinked, then sighed softly. "...Of course, dear. You may sit beside Erina."
Arleyong nodded once and walked slowly to the empty seat. Erina greeted her with a wide smile, patting the chair next to her.
"Hey hey, looks like we're desk partners now," she whispered excitedly as Arleyong sat down.
Arleyong didn't answer, but her eyes flicked sideways for a moment — the tiniest acknowledgment.
Erina leaned closer. "You know," she whispered, "you don't have to be nervous. Everyone's staring 'cause you're kinda… mysterious. Like, in a cool way."
Arleyong turned her gaze to the window. Outside, sunlight danced on the trees, bright and alive — a world she still didn't feel part of.
The teacher's voice echoed through the room, explaining formulas and rules, but to Arleyong, it was all just distant noise. The sound of chalk scratching on the board. Pages turning. Laughter somewhere behind her. None of it reached her heart.
Her mind drifted — not toward curiosity, but silence. She felt the hum of her own shadow faintly beneath her desk, reacting to her pulse. She pressed her hand to her thigh to keep it still.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Erina watching her. The girl tried to focus on her notes but kept sneaking glances, like a puppy trying to understand a cat that wouldn't purr.
When the bell rang for recess, the classroom exploded with chatter. Students rushed out, laughing, bumping into each other, the air filled with movement.
Erina turned toward her. "Hey, Arleyong! Want to eat together? I can take you to canteen" she asked brightly.
Arleyong didn't look up. She slowly closed her book and said quietly, "No."
Erina blinked. "Ah, okay! No problem. Maybe next time." She smiled anyway — awkward but genuine — before walking off with her lunch.
Arleyong remained seated. The others around her didn't bother trying. They'd already labeled her in their heads: weird, quiet, different.
She reached into her bag, pulling out the same small container Sang Fei had given her days ago — the rice had gone cold, but she didn't mind. She ate in silence, eyes fixed on the wall.
Outside the window, sunlight touched her face. It should've been warm. Instead, it felt distant, like light shining on a ghost.
Five minutes later, the classroom was nearly empty. Only the sound of chairs scraping and distant laughter from the corridor filled the silence.
Arleyong was still at her desk, eyes blank, hands folded neatly on her lap. She looked harmless — too harmless. Maybe that's why they chose her.
"Hey, silverhead," one of the girls called. "You think you're better than us just 'cause you're quiet?"
The voice came from Long Li Jie, tall and smug, her hair tied in a glossy braid that swayed like a whip. Behind her stood her usual crew — Xiao Xuan, Lin Ni, Chai Fong, and Shan Mei — each with the same smirk that said we're bored, let's break something.
Arleyong didn't answer.
Long Li Jie tilted her head. "What? Can't talk? Or your mouth too precious for commoners like us?"
The girls snickered. Lin Ni leaned over Arleyong's desk, tapping her pen against Arleyong's book. "Maybe she thinks she's some kind of princess."
Still no reaction.
That silence — cold and unbothered — only made them angrier.
"Say something, freak!" Xiao Xuan barked, slamming a hand onto Arleyong's desk.
The air tensed. The faintest flicker of shadow rippled under Arleyong's chair, unseen by anyone.
And then—
SLAM!
The door burst open so hard it hit the wall with a crack.
"Oi! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
It was Erina, panting slightly, still holding her lunchbox. Her eyes were blazing.
"Oh, look who came to save the silent doll," Long Li Jie sneered. "Erina, the mouth that never shuts."
Erina dropped her bag on the nearest desk. "At least my mouth works better than your brain, Li Jie."
The class gasped. Even the bullies froze for a second.
Erina crossed her arms, voice sharp as glass. "Why don't you go pick a fight with someone your own size — or maybe with a mirror? That way, when you lose, you'll only embarrass yourself twice."
Laughter rippled from a few desks in the back. Li Jie's face turned red.
She stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "Who do you think you are, Erina?"
Erina didn't back down, but her fingers trembled slightly against her arm. Her voice stayed steady — but her heartbeat didn't.
And that's when Arleyong stood up.
The sound of her chair sliding back was soft — yet it cut through the tension like a blade.
In a blink, she was beside Erina. Without hesitation, she pulled Erina gently behind her.
Her eyes — empty, silver, cold — locked onto Li Jie.
"Leave," she said flatly. "Or I'll make it worse."
For a moment, no one moved. The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Even the light felt thinner.
Erina peeked from behind her, her face heating up.
(Oh my... she's so... man~)
Li Jie tried to scoff, but the weight of Arleyong's stare made her throat tighten. She couldn't explain it — but something about that girl's stillness felt wrong.
After a tense silence, Li Jie clicked her tongue. "Let's go."
The bullies muttered and backed off, pretending they weren't shaken.
When the door closed behind them, Erina finally exhaled.
"Whoa... Arleyong... you're scary when you're serious."
Arleyong didn't answer. She just sat back down, expression unreadable, eyes fixed on the sunlight cutting across the floor.
The classroom door opened again, breaking the heavy silence that lingered after the bullies left.
"Everyone, back to your seats," said a deep, calm voice.
It was Sam Sir, their English teacher — tall, with sharp glasses and the kind of expression that could silence a whole room without even raising his voice. The students scrambled to their places in an instant.
Erina dropped into her chair beside Arleyong, whispering, "Saved by the bell… literally." She gave a faint chuckle, but Arleyong didn't react.
Sam Sir set his books on the table.
"Today, we'll continue our grammar exercise from yesterday. I don't want any noise, understood?"
A quiet, collective "Yes, sir."
The lesson began. Chalk scratched across the board. The hum of the ceiling fan filled the room.
Erina slouched slightly, trying her best to copy notes, her eyelids half-closed.
(Ugh… why is English this boring?)
She glanced sideways.
Arleyong sat perfectly still, posture straight, her eyes on the board. Not blinking. Not fidgeting. Not even breathing too loud — like a statue.
Erina sighed softly and leaned closer, whispering,
"Hey, you're seriously focused, huh?"
Arleyong turned her head slightly. "You're not."
Erina's mouth twitched. "Wow, harsh." She grinned a little. "Okay, let's talk instead. When's your birthday?"
"Unknown."
"Unknown?? Okay… uh, do you have any siblings?"
"No."
"What about hobbies?"
"None."
Erina blinked, then chuckled awkwardly. "You really don't give me much to work with, huh?"
Arleyong looked at her again, expression calm, eyes faintly reflecting the sunlight through the window. "You talk too much."
That made Erina pout and cross her arms. "Fine, fine… I'll shut up."
For a while, silence took over again. The only sounds were Sam Sir's voice and pages turning.
But Erina couldn't help stealing glances at Arleyong. There was something strange about her — not just her beauty or her silver hair, but that quiet sadness behind her eyes. It wasn't emptiness; it was like she had locked something away long ago.
Erina rested her chin on her palm and muttered softly,
(I'll make you smile one day, Arleyong… you'll see.)