If silence had a sound, it was the way the hallway froze when Kairo De León turned his head.
Sera didn't look up. She just kept walking.
But every instinct in her spine told her — he saw her. Not the hoodie. Not the backpack. Her.
"Hey."
The voice cut like glass. Cold. Commanding.
She stopped.
Turned.
Their eyes met — his were obsidian, unreadable, the kind that weren't made for kindness. He leaned lazily against a Crimson Locker, arms folded, that signature arrogance dripping off his frame like cologne.
"You're the new girl from Section E?" he asked, head tilted.
Sera blinked. "Is that supposed to sound like a disease?"
Somewhere, a student choked on a laugh. Another quickly stepped away.
Kairo's smile barely moved. "You've got a sharp tongue."
Sera shrugged. "You've got a God complex. Guess we're even."
People stopped pretending to walk. They stayed still, like witnesses.
Kairo pushed off the locker, slowly closing the space between them.
"Do you know who I am?"
"Unfortunately," she said coolly. "You're the guy who thinks a locker makes him royalty."
He took one more step.
Sera didn't flinch. Didn't move.
She met his gaze head-on.
"I don't like being disrespected," Kairo said softly.
Sera smiled, small and dangerous. "And I don't like being spoken to like I owe you something."
The hallway held its breath.
He could ruin her. Right here. Right now. All he had to do was snap his fingers, and the system would crush her like a bug.
Instead…
He smiled.
But it wasn't kind.
It was curious.
Challenged.
"I'll remember you," Kairo said, voice smooth. "Let's see how long you last, heiress of nothing."
He walked away.
Students scattered like dust behind him.
Sera stood still — pulse steady, lips twitching at the irony.
He just called her the heiress of nothing.
If only he knew.
She turned to her locker, the corner of her lips lifting.
"You'll remember me?" she whispered.
"Good. That's the beginning of your undoing."