Carlos pulled off the mask and revealed the face of the spy. A girl about their age. Her white eyes, devoid of color, almost made it seem like she was blind.
"Who the hell are you and what do you want from—" Carlos yelled, but before he could finish, Kairos yanked him back, pulling him away from her.
The two boys crashed to the floor—just as a massive ball of flas roared past them, slamming into the wall at the end of the hallway with a deafening boom.
They had narrowly avoided being hit.
"Thanks," Carlos gasped, catching his breath as he scrambled to his feet.
Kairos rose right after. When they were both upright, their eyes darted toward the source of the attack.
Three students stood casually at the other end of the hallway, smug expressions stretched across their faces. At the front was the one who had launched the fireball.
"How dare you hurt my sister, are you insane!" The boy's voice was laced with mockery, his smug smile unchanging.
It was clear—he was the one behind the attack. And that only fueled the fury already rising in Kairos... and in the shadow wolf.
"You bastards! I'll send you all to the infirmary in body bags," Kairos snarled, stepping forward, his voice thick with rage—
But Carlos grabbed his wrist, halting him. He leaned close and whispered, "Don't do this here."
Kairos growled low. He wasn't one to let things slide. But Carlos was right—if they got caught, it'd look like they started the fight.
"Co on, aren't you going to fight? A mber of the top ten scared of ?" the fireball-thrower taunted. His crew burst into laughter.
"Yeah, if we fight in the halls, no one's gonna get mad. It's a military academy—we're ant to beat the shit out of each other," another boy added.
Kairos's foot lifted, ready to step forward again—but Carlos's grip restrained him once more.
"Don't—at least not now," Carlos said, finally letting go and slipping his hands into his pockets with ease.
"Your sister... I poured so really strong stuff into her," he said coldly. "If I were you, I'd get her checked out."
Everyone's eyes turned toward the girl—the spy.
She was sprawled on the floor, her body limp, neck twisted unnaturally from a sudden loss of control.
"Lyza!" the fire-user yelled, rushing over. His group surrounded her and lifted her up onto their shoulders, panic now replacing smugness.
They retreated quickly, carrying her off for dical help.
But just before he disappeared from view, the leader turned with a sinister glare.
"I'm Mike! Rember that na, because when I co back to beat the shit out of you—you'll regret ever laying a finger on Lyza!" he barked before sprinting after his team.
Finally, the hallway fell silent.
"Why did you stop ?" Kairos asked, his lips curled in a playful pout.
It bugged Carlos—just enough that a wrinkled smile crept onto his face.
"Not every battle is won through noise and beatings. I only fight when it's necessary."
Kairos understood. Carlos wasn't just like him—he was calculating, deliberate. But unlike him, Carlos had a different way of seeing things.
Kairos had considered fighting, especially since this enclosed hallway was perfect—shadows everywhere. He could've used them. He would've won. By sheer wits and the elent of surprise.
"I see... So what do we do now?" Kairos asked, unsure of what lay ahead. After all, training with his summon had taken a strange turn—and he didn't know how many more would co after him or why.
"It's better to head back to our room," Carlos said. "The reason they ca after you is because you beat Rivet. So will respect you for it. But others... they'll see this as a chance. If they defeat you, they can brag that they beat the guy who beat Rivet."
Carlos's explanation made sense—and Kairos grasped it instantly.
People would co for him. Fair or unfair. For status. For power. For pride.
This was expected.
"And in the anti... you're going to explain how you knew we were being spied on. Every detail. No lies."
Kairos gulped.
'Fuck... I just slipped up.'
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