[V2] Chapter 14: New Enemies

Thursday, April 20th

Location: Classified — Sensei Waine's classroom, interior sector

Time: Unknown — No visual on any timekeeping devices

I was working on the worksheet—or at least I tried—but I kept getting held up by the words Mari had left echoing in my mind. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard someone’s voice that clearly in my head, but this time it felt different. The words sounded so close, as if she were standing right behind me, her lips almost brushing against my ear as she spoke.

Amateur agent.

Greg had already cleared up the literal meaning behind those words, but the way Mari said them carried something else, something sharper. It wasn’t just a statement. It was an insult—a personal jab that stuck with me longer than it should have.

A tap on my shoulder yanked me out of my thoughts. I turned to see Nikki, her face etched with concern. She studied me, head to toe, while I blinked at her in confusion, probably making a face she didn’t even realize I was wearing.

“You good?” she asked.

“Yeah…” I trailed off.

“So, no,” she concluded with a knowing look.

I nodded reluctantly. It was funny how predictable I was, but if it made her feel better to know the truth, I wasn’t going to fight it. I’d take any kind of comfort I could get right now.

“What’s going on?” Tisiah suddenly chimed in. His voice startled me, and I swung my head around to see him leaning closer, his expression caught somewhere between concern and curiosity. “Sorry…” he added quickly, moving back a bit when he saw my reaction.

“No, no, you’re fine,” I mumbled. “It’s just that… I’m not sure how to explain—”

Before I could even finish, Sensei Waine’s voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp and commanding. Everyone immediately stiffened, their bodies straightening like trees under a harsh wind.

“Thank you,” Sensei Waine said, her voice icy and deliberate. “If you haven’t checked your wands yet—which I’m sure some of you haven’t—you may do so now.”

I exhaled in relief, grateful that a few other students had shared my forgetfulness and hadn’t checked their MP levels either. I pulled out my wand, and Nikki and Tisiah immediately crowded around me, their eyes locked onto the small screen. A bright blue bar filled the display. It had reached the first level and was halfway to the second.

“Congrats,” the wand chimed. “Choose one of the cards.”

In a retro video game style, three cards popped up, bouncing as though they were floating on water. I picked the middle one. The middle one always has your back. The left and right ones? They exist only to amplify your bad luck.

Considering my luck had already been juiced up on steroids lately, I felt confident in my choice. This was going to be a new power, something to get excited about.

The cards spun faster and faster until the middle one finally revealed itself.

“Mallet?” I blurted out in disbelief. “What the—”

Nikki burst into giggles while Tisiah let out a dramatic gasp. I stared at the other options on the screen—minigun and flamethrower. Minigun and flamethrower. I stood there, utterly disgusted by my fate. How, in any universe, did I end up with a mallet when I could’ve had those?

Tisiah leaned his head on my shoulder, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “If it makes you feel any better, I got a spear.”

I shot him a look. He continued, “Besides, all you have to do is level up and get better weapons.”

“You know, Tisiah is right for once,” Nikki added, shaking her head in amusement. “You’re almost at level two. Just get a better one.”

But before I could respond, the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the conversation. It wasn’t a casual clearing either—it was one meant to grab attention. Sensei Waine stood there, her arms crossed, her eyes narrowing with irritation.

“If you kids paid more attention in my classes, you would already know that your MP level determines when you can switch to a different weapon,” she said pointedly.

“Do I get to choose my next weapon, then?” I asked, hoping for some form of redemption.

“No,” she replied flatly. “You need to learn to adapt to every weapon.”

I stared at her, the contempt in my expression impossible to hide. She seemed to feel the weight of my glare, swallowing nervously before quickly adding, “Carry on,” as she turned and walked away, clearly eager to get out of the spotlight.

Words failed me. I couldn’t even find the strength to respond to this blatant outrage of a system. My own father, the creator of this mess, was practically begging me to suffer.

What a great day.

“Okay, so you’re mostly screwed,” Nikki said, shaking her head.

“Mostly,” Tisiah emphasized. “Remember, you’re still likely on the leaderboard for the highest levels.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be mad if that were the case,” I muttered. “Where is the leaderboard, anyway?”

“Usually posted during Recreation,” Tisiah said. “We can check it out later.”

***

After what felt like an eternity in Sensei Waine’s class, where I barely managed to complete 25% of a worksheet that rambled on about the ‘importance of ice,’ I decided to ask for a bathroom break.

Nothing unusual. Completely normal.

The second I raised my hand, Sensei Waine gave a brief nod, and I was out the door. The hallway outside was quiet—eerily so, except for the distant sounds of Malachi’s goons.

Now, Malachi himself wasn’t a goon, but his little followers? They were the definition of useless henchmen.

There were three of them this time, including a girl who had embraced a more masculine style. One of the guys had spiky hair, longer than the typical cuts but not quite reaching ‘skater’ levels. The other had braids that cascaded to one side, and he was decked out in a tan jacket with matching pants and Jordan 1’s.

The girl had short white hair that resembled a bowl cut, and the only thing feminine about her were the hoop earrings. Her skin was fair, but lighter than Nikki’s.

As I walked down the hall, turning a corner, I suddenly heard someone whisper behind me, “Pineapple head…”

I froze. The first two words were bad enough; the third didn’t even register.

“Yo, why you stoppin’? You finna do somethin’?”

It was Codename Jamal. I turned slowly, shaking my head. Every instinct told me that whatever I did next would be the wrong choice.

Then the girl—let’s call her Masculine Maddie—spoke up. “Oh, that’s the Connor kid,” she said with a sneer. “The one tryin’ to spit at September?”

Codename Goku, the guy with the braids, perked up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Maddie confirmed as they started walking toward me.

“Whoa, whoa, chill. Let’s just work something out,” I stammered, backing away slowly.

“Relax, brotha. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about… unless you make it somethin’,” Jamal said with a smirk. “Look, we won’t tell Malachi you’ve been chatting up September, as long as you help me out with that mocha sweetheart of yours.”

“Mocha who?” I asked, my voice incredulous.

“You know who I mean. Nikki,” Jamal replied smoothly. “We’ve had our eye on you. We see you’re no stranger to her.”

“Pretty sure no one at this academy is a stranger to her,” I said, trying to deflect.

Maddie cut in, her voice laced with disdain. “You probably don’t know half the people at this academy. And I don’t blame you—there are a lot of useless spies around here.”

“Here we go,” Jamal groaned, clearly used to Maddie’s rants.

“All these people are just gluttonous pigs. Only here for the food, and they flunk every class. They should be grateful for an F.”

“I think F’s the worst grade, Maddie,” Goku interjected. Maddie ignored him.

“Anyway, help me get Nikki’s attention, and we won’t tell Malachi about September.”

Before I could respond, a voice interrupted from the stairwell. “What was that?”

Everyone froze, heads whipping toward the source of the voice. Malachi stood on the stairs, bathed in light that made him look like some kind of self-appointed angel, even though he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Oh… Connor,” Malachi said slowly, a smirk spreading across his face. “Didn’t know you liked skipping class.”

“I was just heading to the bathroom,” I explained, scratching my neck nervously. “No big deal.”

“I hope not,” Malachi said, his gaze shifting to Jamal. “What’s going on here, Jamal?”

Jamal, quick on his feet, shrugged casually. “Nothing, boss. Just saw Connor pass by.”

“Where’s September?” Malachi asked, eyes narrowing.

“Why are you asking about her?” Goku jumped in. “Isn’t she—”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Malachi cut him off. “Let’s go. Ice cream?”

Jamal nodded, and the group followed Malachi down the hall. But as Jamal passed me, he shot me a knowing look—a silent threat hidden beneath that cocky smile. He knew everything, and he wasn’t going to let it go.

All I could think, as they disappeared from sight, was how glad I was that I hadn’t left any more evidence of my fear on the floor.