True resolve

Michael approached his room but hesitated at the door, the weight of his thoughts pressing on him. Instead, he turned and began walking aimlessly, the cool evening wind brushing against his face. His mind churned, restless. Why do they all want her? Why do they want to take her away? Why can't we just be together in peace?

Michael clenched his fists, the questions swirling faster. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't—he never could. He was human, but he hated humanity. Yet, he loved a human, a contradiction that gnawed at him. Sometimes he wondered if she loved him the same, but even that didn't matter. As long as I love her, he thought, that's enough.

His thoughts drifted back to Bola's words, the warning about his ability, and the comparison to his father. The memory hit like a whip. "I don't want to act like my dad! I'm not my dad!" he thought furiously. His leg lashed out, kicking the metal trash bin beside him. The loud clatter drew stares from students scattered across Emox Park. Michael didn't care; anger bubbled over, refusing to be contained.

But someone was watching.

She emerged from the shadows, her voice soft yet piercing. "Ozor."

Michael turned sharply, his eyes narrowing. "What do you want, Nmesoma?" His voice was cold, sharp, as if daring her to speak further.

Unfazed, she walked closer and sat in front of him. "Michael Ozor, stop comparing yourself to him. You're not like your father. You're better than him, okay? And stop blaming yourself for your mom. She had to die—there's a reason."

Michael's eyes widened momentarily before darkening with rage. He clutched his head, his voice rising. "No, there is no reason! And stop acting like you know me! Like you weren't one of the people who broke me when I dared to care! Leave my sight before I—" He paused, his breathing ragged. "Before I commit murder."

But Nmesoma smiled, unshaken. She rose and closed the distance between them. "You don't understand, Michael. I never meant to hurt you, but I had to. I didn't have a choice."

Michael backed away instinctively, his movements betraying his thoughts. Why am I stepping back? he wondered. Deep down, he knew—he was retreating from humanity itself. Emotion, connection—they were all traps. They had put him here. If I avoid the world, maybe the world will avoid me, he thought bitterly.

His back hit a tree, stopping him in his tracks. Nmesoma stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Michael, my love, why do you chase a girl who will bring nothing but war to your life? You seek peace, but is she peace, Michael? Is she truly the one?"

Her breath brushed his face, her words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. She leaned closer, her presence overwhelming, but then Michael's expression shifted. His face, once filled with worry and despair, hardened into cold fury. His humanity slipped away, leaving only the jagged edges of his rage.

"Nmesoma, thank you," he said flatly. "But I'm leaving now."

He stepped forward, ready to push past her, but she didn't move. Instead, she embraced him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Michael froze. This isn't Elizabeth. This isn't my beloved, he thought, his disgust rising. This is just a human trying to trap me in their emotions.

With a sharp shove, he pushed her away. His voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible as he walked past her. "You're not my beloved. And no, I will never leave her. I love her."

And with that, the confrontation ended.

Michael walked back toward Emox, his mind still racing, but his resolve stronger than ever.

Above the park, on the third floor of the girls' dormitory, Elizabeth stood at her window, watching her beloved from afar. Her eyes lingered on him, unblinking, as he disappeared into the shadows.

With a quiet sigh, she turned away, heading toward the training room.