The courtyard felt impossibly still, like the air itself was holding its breath. Her words lingered in my ears, an accusation and a mystery all wrapped into one.

“You’re not supposed to exist.”

Her tone wasn’t as sharp now, but it carried weight—a statement layered with confusion and unease. She studied me with a focus that made my skin crawl, as though trying to dissect me piece by piece.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, trying to sound steady despite the chill running down my spine.

“You break the rules,” she said bluntly, stepping closer. “Flux doesn’t affect you, but you’re radiating it like a damn beacon. You feel like a vampire, but you’re standing here in the sun. And there’s no trace of the Thirst in you.”

“The Thirst?” I repeated, frowning.

She tilted her head. “Don’t play dumb.”

“I’m not playing dumb! I don’t even know what that is!”

Her eyes narrowed, her suspicion thick in the air, but after a moment, she sighed. “You’re serious.”

“Completely.” My voice was sharper now, frustration creeping in. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know why you’re acting like I should have all the answers. I’m just... me.”

Her gaze lingered on me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “Then let’s start with the basics.”

She took a step back, crossing her arms but relaxing slightly. The red-gold lightning that had been dancing around her before faded into nothingness.

“Flux is power,” she began. “It’s energy that flows through humans—humans only—letting us do things ordinary people can’t. There are three main types: Observation, Armament, and Supreme. The most powerful users can even slow aging and see a few seconds into the future.” She looked me up and down. “You clearly have it. But that shouldn’t be possible.”

“Why not?”

“Because vampires can’t use Flux. They never could. Their bodies reject it, like oil and water.” She narrowed her eyes. “But you’re standing here, practically glowing with it.”

“I don’t feel like I’m glowing,” I muttered.

“No kidding. Your aura’s spilling out everywhere,” she said. “It’s like you’ve got this huge well of energy, but you have no idea how to control it. That’s a problem.”

“For who?”

“For anyone who doesn’t want a vampire—or whatever the hell you are—walking around with unchecked Flux,” she shot back. “It’s dangerous.”

Her words stung, but I couldn’t argue. She wasn’t wrong. I didn’t know what was happening to me, and it scared me.

“I didn’t ask for this,” I said quietly, my fists clenching at my sides.

“What do you know?” she asked, her voice softer now, less accusatory.

I hesitated. What did I know? That I was faster, stronger, and sharper than anyone I’d ever met. That I’d always felt different, like something was just... off. And then there was the accident, the one I’d never forgotten.

“When I was seven,” I said slowly, “I got hit by a motorcycle. It wasn’t just a bump—I was thrown across the street. Both my knees were scraped to hell, and my thigh was dislocated. I could feel it. I knew something was wrong.”

Her brow furrowed, but she said nothing, waiting for me to continue.

“My aunt thought it was a miracle. The next day, I was walking like nothing happened. She didn’t question it, but I knew it wasn’t normal.” I took a shaky breath. “That’s when I started to realize I wasn’t like other people. But I never told anyone. I just... stayed quiet.”

“And you’ve been hiding ever since?” she asked.

I nodded. “Mostly. I didn’t want anyone to think I was some kind of freak.”

She frowned, her expression conflicted. “And you’ve never noticed anything else? The sun doesn’t bother you, you don’t feel... cravings?”

“No,” I said firmly. “I’m just a kid who grew up in Zaria. My aunt raised me after my mom died, and I worked my ass off to get a scholarship to come here. That’s it.”

Her eyes flickered with something I couldn’t place—pity, maybe, or doubt.

“Except it’s not,” she said quietly. “Because you shouldn’t exist. Not like this.”

I exhaled sharply, frustration boiling over. “Then explain it to me! You’re the one who seems to know everything.”

Her gaze snapped to mine, sharp and calculating. “Flux burns vampires alive,” she said coldly. “It disrupts their regeneration, messes with their focus. It can even kill the older ones if it’s strong enough. And yet, when I hit you with it back there, you barely flinched.”

“Because I’m not a vampire,” I said through gritted teeth.

She ignored my protest. “Vampires don’t walk in the sun either,” she continued. “They burn. It’s why they stick to the shadows. And yet, here you are.” She gestured around us. “Middle of the day, not a mark on you.”

I didn’t have an answer.

“Whatever you are, you don’t fit the rules,” she said. “You’re not human, and you’re not a vampire. You’re something else.”

The weight of her words pressed down on me like a vice. “So... what now?”

Her expression shifted, hardening into something determined. “Now? We figure out what you are. Because whatever you are... you’re not supposed to exist.”

“And if you keep glowing like that, you’re gonna attract attention. And when vampires notice something they don’t understand, they don’t ask questions. They just eliminate the threat.”

The words sent a chill down my spine. I didn’t know what was worse—the fact that she saw me as a threat or the possibility that she was right.

“Oh, and for the record,” she added, her voice softer now, almost like an afterthought, “I’m Sia.”

For a moment, the name hung in the air between us, grounding me in an odd way amidst the chaos.

“Sia,” I repeated. My voice sounded distant even to myself.

She nodded, and her sharp expression softened briefly. “And you’re Kyon. So we’re even.”