Jordan!" her voice cuts through the door. "William, I know you're in there. I can hear you through the door. Can you just hurry up and open it?"
I freeze.
"Damn it," I mutter.
I unlock the door and open it slowly.
"Took you long enough," she says, arms crossed.
"Well," I reply, stepping aside, "I wasn't exactly expecting visitors today."
I take her upstairs, moving quickly, my eyes flicking toward the front door every few seconds. The house feels too quiet. Too open. She sits on the edge of my bed, looking around.
"Nice room," she says. "Nice house, even."
"Thanks," I reply, sitting in the chair by my desk.
She turns toward me as she speaks, her long hair catching the light, freckles clear against her skin. Her gray eyes hold mine, steady and sharp, but for some reason they calm me. The constant pressure in my chest eases.
"I wanted to talk to you about the team," she says. "Sensei Shu told me you stormed off after your last conversation. And that you went pretty berserk during the fight."
The memory hits instantly—the rage, the heat, the darkness.
"Yeah," I say quietly. "I lost control. But I had to do something. I needed to buy you time. Cameron couldn't move you if I didn't keep him busy."
She studies me.
"I'm not mad," she says. "I didn't come here to argue. I came to get you back."
That surprises me.
"We need you," she continues. "You're the leader."
I blink. "I thought you didn't want me leading."
"I didn't," she admits. "And I still don't love it. But the docks proved something. I'm not fit to lead. And you throwing yourself in front of everything just to get us out… that mattered."
She exhales.
"I won't question you being leader anymore. I might question your orders—but not your place."
I stand and step closer. "Thank you."
She looks up at me, our eyes meeting—closer than they ever have without anger between us.
"I'm glad you're better," I say.
"And I'm glad you didn't die," she replies quickly. "Don't make this weird. I don't like you like that. But you're important to the team."
"I won't let it get to my head," I say.
"Good," she says, lightly punching my shoulder.
She stands. "I should go."
"I'll walk you out."
We're halfway down the stairs when I hear it.
Keys.
The soft jingle, then the front door unlocking.
My stomach drops.
Jordan notices my sudden stop. "What?"
"My parents," I whisper. "They're home."
"What—now?"
The door opens.
"William?" my mom calls. "We're home!"
Panicking, I step slightly in front of Jordan like that'll somehow hide her. She raises an eyebrow, clearly amused.
Footsteps approach. Too late.
My parents look up the stairs.
"Oh," my mom says, noticing Jordan immediately. "Hello."
Jordan straightens, instantly polite. "Hi. I'm Jordan."
My dad glances between us. "A friend?"
"Yeah," I say fast. "School. Group project."
"Very group," Jordan adds smoothly.
My mom smiles, curious but kind. "Nice to meet you, Jordan. I'm William's mom."
"And his dad," my father says. "We don't usually get visitors."
"I was just leaving," Jordan says. "Didn't mean to intrude."
"No intrusion at all," my mom replies. "William doesn't bring people over much."
I feel my face heat up.
After a moment, my parents head toward the kitchen. As soon as they're gone, I exhale.
Jordan leans in slightly. "You're terrible at hiding people."
"I panicked," I mutter.
She smirks. "Noted."
Outside, the air feels lighter.
At the front gate, she turns back to me.
"I'll see you tomorrow at the coffeehouse?"
"Yeah," I say, smiling.
She smiles back—the biggest I've ever seen from her.
Then she walks away.
I close the door and lean against it.
For the first time since everything happened, I feel calm.
No flashbacks.
No fear.
No darkness creeping in.
Just quiet.
"Hey, William," my dad calls from the kitchen.
"Yeah?" I answer, already halfway down the stairs.
He's leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching my mom move around the kitchen. She's rinsing dishes, the window above the sink cracked open just enough to let the cool night air drift in.
"Your mom and I were talking," he says. "We think you should invite your friends over tomorrow. Dinner."and Jordan i like her already.
I pause for a second.
I guess I was expecting this after overhearing them yesterday. A part of me wonders how long things can stay this normal.
"Yeah," I say. "Okay."
My mom turns, smiling. "Just a few people. Whoever you want."
"Alright," I reply. "I'll ask them."
"That'd be good," my dad says.
I head back upstairs. My room feels darker than usual, the corners heavy with shadow from the single lamp on my desk. I crouch and pull the sword out from under my bed.
It's brighter.
Not glowing—just… wrong. The crimson underglow it usually has is almost gone, replaced by something sharper, more intense. I don't touch it for long. I set it back in the corner, facing the wall, like that might make a difference.
I lie down without changing, staring at the ceiling.
Tomorrow.
Faces drift through my mind. Cameron. Maya. Mike. Ava. And Jordan—only briefly, lingering at the edge of my thoughts before I push it away.
Sleep comes eventually.
Morning feels lighter. The routine stays the same—shower, teeth, backpack—but the weight from before isn't pressing down as hard. The memories are still there, but quieter.
I step outside, locking the door behind me.
"Yo."
Zack's leaning against the fence, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.
"Hey," I say.
He looks at me for a moment. "You good?"
"Yeah." I hesitate. "Actually—my parents are having people over for dinner tonight. You wanna come?"
He blinks. "Yeah?"
"Eight," I say.
"Sure," he replies. "Sounds good."
We start walking toward school, the street still half-asleep.
Ava joins us a block later.
"Hey," she says.
"Hey," Zack replies first.
She looks between us. "Did you see the segment I ran for the Bugle?"
"Yeah," Zack says. "You're still chasing that thing?"
"There's something going on," she insists. "You can feel it."
"I'll believe it when I see it," he says.
I stay quiet.
When we reach the school, Ava slows. "You coming tonight too, right?"
I nod. "Yeah. Eight."
She smiles. "Cool."
By math class, the room feels suffocating.
Mike sits two rows ahead of me, shoulders hunched like always. When the teacher turns back to the board, I lean forward.
"Hey," I whisper.
He doesn't respond.
"Mike."
He glances back. "What?"
"My parents are doing dinner tonight," I say. "You wanna come?"
He pauses.
"I can't."
"Why?"
"I've got something to do."
"What kind of something?"
He looks away. "I can't say."
The bell rings. Chairs scrape. Mike's already gone.
That uneasy feeling settles deep in my chest.
After school, I head downtown.
The coffee shop smells the same as always—burnt espresso and sugar. I slip through the back door and drop into the slide.
I land hard, the impact rattling through my legs as I catch myself on my hands. A sharp breath slips out before I straighten up.
That never changes, I think as I dust myself off.
Shu's already there.
He's standing with his back to me, hands clasped behind him.
"I'm sorry," I say. "About before."
He turns slowly. "You're not wrong for being angry."
"You didn't tell us everything."
"No," he admits. "And that's on me."
I step closer. "We almost died."
His gaze sharpens. "You fought someone far above what you should have encountered. That wasn't coincidence."
"Then why did he stop?" I ask. "Why didn't he finish it?"
Shu exhales. "Because they can't stay long. Not yet. The seal's still holding—but it's weakening."
My stomach twists.
The memory resurfaces.
You know, he had said calmly, Lord Drakna will find you… interesting.
My heart had stuttered.
You might be the key to something far greater than this.
"I don't want to be a key," I say quietly.
Shu looks at me for a long moment. "That may not be your choice."
Silence stretches between us.