Lisa and Jason walked quietly down the empty street leading to the Mercier estate. The night air was cool, the moon slipping in and out of clouds like a secret, and the faint hum of cicadas buzzed in the distance. Streetlights painted broken halos on the wet pavement, and the world around them was hushed, like it was holding its breath.
Jason shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets. His jaw was tight, the edges of his composure fraying like a worn thread. He had been quiet for too long, and even Lisa, cold and unreadable, noticed the change.
She glanced at him from beneath her lashes, her black overcoat flowing like a shadow. Her voice, usually sharp, had a rare softness. "You're ruffled."
Jason scoffed lightly but didn't look at her. He stared forward, eyes narrowing slightly. "That wasn't the Andrew I remember."
Lisa raised a brow. "You know him personally?"
"Yeah," Jason muttered. "School days. He was... quiet. Calculated. Not the type to confront. And definitely not the type to show up with a grin and energy like that. Something's different."
Lisa studied him. "Different enough for you to reach for your gun."
Jason's lips thinned. He didn't reply. That silence was answer enough.
"So?" Lisa asked. "What was that about?"
Jason's gaze remained forward. "Nothing... I hope."
Back at Halberd, Andrew walked the stone paths toward the dorms, his posture relaxed but his mind turbulent. The encounter with Jason had stirred something.
Not fear.
Awareness.
And the one voice he didn't want to hear echoed through him.
"Now that was delicious. That flicker in his eyes fear wrapped in pride. Let me out again, just for a bit."
Andrew was still rolling his eyes mentally when he spotted someone up ahead.
Kate.
She caught sight of him at the same time, waving lightly, a smile tugging at her lips. "There you are! I was looking for you after class. Couldn't find you in the library."
Too late.
Whitmore slid forward in his skin like a smirk come alive.
"You just can't get enough of me, huh?" he teased, voice warm but cocky.
Kate paused mid-step, blinking. "Maybe..."
Whitmore tilted his head, eyes glinting. "You done with classes?"
"Yeah. Heading back to the dorm."
"With Emma?"
"Mm-hmm."
He leaned a little closer. "Come over to mine instead. I make a mean tea and even better conversation."
Kate raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You're really trying, huh?"
"Trying implies I don't know the outcome."
She laughed. "Confident, aren't you?"
"No. Just right."
Kate bumped his arm playfully. "You're more energetic than usual. And I mean... a lot more."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
They walked side by side, shadows dancing around them from the flickering lamplight, the old academy groaning with night sounds. Their banter flitted like fireflies
"So, Mr. Ivy League, what's next for you? World domination?"
"Only if you're my second-in-command."
"Oh, please. I'd run things better."
"That's what makes you dangerous."
"Says the man practically glowing with confidence."
"Confidence?"
"Yup"
By the time they reached the door to her dorm, Kate was visibly more relaxed, and Whitmore Andrew's shadow was glowing with a kind of joy that didn't belong in shadows.
"Thanks for walking me back," Kate said, resting her hand on the doorknob.
"Anytime, princess," Whitmore replied, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
Kate raised an eyebrow. "You're really not planning to stop with the nicknames, are you?"
"I've got a list."
"I'm sure you do."
Before she could retort further, the door creaked open.
Emma stood there, blinking. "Hey Andrew... Kate. I knew I heard voices."
Whitmore's smile vanished.
He stared at Emma mot rudely, not angrily but with unsettling detachment. His body stood still, his gaze calculating.
Kate glanced at him sideways. Something changed. She could feel it.
"Hi Emma," she said quickly, breaking the moment.
Whitmore's eyes snapped back to Kate. That grin returned, a bit too perfect.
"Alright then. Goodnight."
Both girls echoed, "Goodnight."
They turned to enter.
But when they glanced back he was gone. Just gone. As if he never stood there at all.
Emma looked at Kate. "Huh?"
Kate stared into the hallway, something fluttering uneasily in her chest. A whisper of worry, a question she couldn't yet voice.
"Yeah... huh."
Meanwhile, Whitmore still inside Andrew slipped into the courtyard shadows like water into cracks. He felt the night coil around him, alive.
Kate's voice still echoed in his head, her laughter like embers.
But beneath that warmth...
Jason's face.
And that look the reach for the gun.
The game was beginning.
And Whitmore had every intention of staying in play.