Morning didn't come gently.
The first thing I felt was pain—dull, pulsing, like my skull had been squeezed all night. The second thing I felt was… weight. Something warm, heavy, and snoring lightly into my collarbone.
I blinked my eyes open.
My bedroom ceiling greeted me, blurry at first, then clearer. The soft morning light peeked through the curtains. For a moment, everything was quiet. Peaceful.
Then reality hit me all at once:
My window was open.
My floor was muddy.
My room smelled like dirt, blood, and… something else I didn't want to identify.
And Kenna—my best friend—was sprawled across me like a dead bear.
Her hair was sticking up in every direction; leaves tangled in it. Her clothes were torn. She had scratches along her arms, a smear of dried blood on her forehead, and her entire body felt like she'd run a marathon, fought monsters, then rolled in a dumpster.
I swallowed hard. "Kenna…?"
She didn't move.
I gently pushed at her shoulder. "Ken. You're crushing me."
She let out a groan—long, dramatic, and miserable.
"…I can't move," she mumbled. "Everything hurts. Even my hair hurts."
I blinked again, trying to make sense of everything. "What happened to you?"
Kenna slowly lifted her head and looked at me with the deadest expression I'd ever seen.
"I committed crimes."
"…What?"
"I stole a car. Fought a demon. Traveled through an orb. Got sneezed on. Threw up on someone who may or may not have been alive. Then carried your unconscious body across a forest like a heroic pack mule."
I stared at her.
She stared back.
"…I think Shadow was haunting me," I whispered, voice small. "I saw him. In my dream. Or—nightmare."
Kenna's face softened instantly, exhaustion melting into concern.
"I know," she said quietly. "I saw him too. In real life. And I wasn't letting him take you."
My breath caught. The memory of the nightmare clawed at my stomach, the fear gripping me again. Kenna saw it—she always saw it.
She leaned forward, pressing her forehead gently against mine. "You're safe, Zyl. I promise."
I felt warmth bloom in my chest. A strange, foreign feeling after hours—maybe days—of fear. My voice trembled.
"…Did you really throw up on a demon?"
Kenna's face twisted with trauma. "Please don't make me relive it."
Despite everything, a tiny laugh escaped me. She swatted weakly at my shoulder.
That's when I noticed—her hands were shaking. Not from fear. From exhaustion. She had done all of this for me. Alone.
My throat tightened.
I slid my arms around her, hugging her gently. "Thank you."
Kenna froze. Then melted. Her chin rested on my shoulder, and she let out a tired breath.
"I thought I lost you," she whispered.
"You didn't," I said softly.
We stayed like that for a long moment—quiet, breathing slowly, grounding each other.
Then Kenna sniffed, her nose wrinkling. "…Zyla."
"…Yeah?"
"You smell horrible."
I blinked. "YOU smell horrible."
We both froze.
Then we both groaned.
Kenna flopped backward dramatically onto the bed. "I'm never fighting a booger demon again."
I pulled the blanket over my face, groaning into it.
"What even IS my life right now?"
But despite everything—the nightmare, the fear, the chaos—I felt safer than I had in a long time.
Because Kenna was here.
And she wasn't going anywhere.
Zyla walked toward the school entrance with her backpack slung low, hoodie up, and hair definitely not brushed.
She looked like someone who got three hours of sleep and rolled out of bed because attendance mattered more than life.
Inside, though?
She felt like her bones were full of sparks… hot… humming… wrong.
Her legs wobbled a little, but she forced a smile at people passing by.
She even nodded at her math teacher like everything was totally fine and she hadn't almost died, been unconscious, transported by her best friend, nearly abducted, or thrown through an orb.
Nope. Totally normal Wednesdays.
She walked into the hallway, trying to look casual, even though every sound made her flinch. Every shadow made her stomach twist. Every flash of light made her vision flicker weirdly.
And then—
"Zyla!"
Kenna slammed into her side.
Zyla grunted. "Ow—Kenna—breathing—"
Kenna hugged her like she'd just found a toddler lost at Disneyland.
Then she grabbed Zyla's face dramatically.
"You look like warmed-up trash. Are you okay?!"
Zyla blinked.
"…I'm fine?"
Kenna stared at her like she absolutely wasn't.
But she didn't push—not yet.
Instead, she kept walking with Zyla, practically glued to her side.
All morning Kenna acted weird.
Hovering.
Pacing.
Staring at anyone who looked at Zyla for more than two seconds.
At lunch, she literally snatched a water bottle out of a kid's hand because he walked too close.
Zyla whispered, "Kenna… are you okay?"
"No," Kenna said bluntly. "Because you're not okay. And something is—off."
Zyla tried to laugh it off, but Kenna grabbed her shoulders.
"Zyla. I carried you through a forest like a dead deer. I smelled demon puke on my shirt this morning. I am NOT losing you today."
Zyla froze.
Kenna's eyes were sharp. Protective. A little feral.
The air shifted.
Not a breeze.
Not a sound.
A pressure.
Zyla's head snapped toward the courtyard doors.
Her vision blurred for a second—darkness sliding over her eyes like smoke.
Kenna saw it.
"Zyla…?"
Students started screaming.
The lights flickered.
A low, wet gurgling growl rolled through the hallway.
Then the glass doors shattered inward, exploding across the floor as a demon crawled in — long limbs, black sludge dripping from its jaw, eyes glowing with sickly yellow light.
Kids ran. Teachers shouted. Chaos exploded.
But the demon wasn't hunting them.
Its head snapped up.
It smelled her.
Zyla felt something deep in her chest vibrate—something ancient and dangerous—something that wanted to burst out.
"No. Nope. Absolutely not."
Kenna stepped in front of Zyla, arms out like she was protecting a toddler from a dog.
The demon hissed.
Kenna grabbed the nearest thing — a cafeteria tray — and chucked it at the demon's face.
CLANG.
The demon roared.
"KENNA!" Zyla yanked her back.
Kenna didn't budge. "You're not touching her!"
The demon lunged—
Kenna shoved Zyla behind her.
And then—
A blast of white-blue power detonated through the hallway as something inside Zyla cracked open, surging out in a pulse that knocked lockers off their hinges.
The demon hit the opposite wall so hard it left a crater.
Everyone froze.
Kenna turned slowly… staring.
"…Zyla," she whispered, eyes huge. "What… was that?"
Zyla didn't know.
But her heart felt like molten lava.
And more demons were coming.
She felt them in the distance.
Hunting her.
Awakening her.
Calling her.