Take Care, bro.

I watched James fidget with his bag strap, and for a moment, I wondered if I could hear his thoughts too. I focused, reaching out with whatever this new ability was, but nothing came through. Just the ambient noise of students chattering and the distant hum of the van's engine. Maybe it only works with certain people? Or it just comes on its own... need to figure this out.

Principal Hellena Tada stepped forward with her usual clipboard and forced smile. She was a stern woman in her sixties who'd been running School Central for longer than any of us had been alive. Her gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she wore the same navy suit she'd worn to every graduation ceremony I could remember. Same old, Tada.

"Today, we celebrate ten outstanding students who have completed their education at School Central," she announced, her voice carrying across the courtyard. "They have proven themselves worthy of advancement to the South, where they will contribute to the greater good of Vezia."

The same speech, word for word, every single time. I'd heard it so many times I could probably recite it myself.

"Among our graduates today," she continued, "we have James Morrison, who has shown exceptional dedication to his studies and will be missed by his peers."

A few students clapped. Derrick cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Go James!" which earned him a disapproving look from several teachers.

James turned toward the crowd, scanning the faces until he found us. He raised his hand in a small wave, and I felt something twist in my chest. This was it. Tomorrow, I'd never see him again. None of us would.

"What do you think it's really like?" Derrick asked quietly. "The South, I mean."

I'd been wondering the same thing for years. "I don't know. But look at them."

The graduates stood perfectly still, like they'd been coached on how to behave. Their expressions were carefully neutral, but I could see the tension in their shoulders, the way their hands trembled slightly at their sides.

"They're scared," I said.

"Wouldn't you be?"

Yeah, I would be. But not for the reasons you think.

"Students," Principal Tada called out, "please give our graduates a proper send-off."

The courtyard erupted in applause—some genuine, some forced, all of it hollow. The graduates began filing into the van one by one, their movements mechanical, rehearsed.

James was about to step inside when he suddenly broke formation and jogged over to where we stood.

"Nesto," he said, slightly out of breath. "Whatever happened to you in the East—I know you were there, don't deny it—be careful, okay? There are rumors about students disappearing before graduation. Not going South, just... gone. And there's talk about some students under twenty-five being selected for early advancement."

"What do you mean, disappearing?" I asked, my heart racing.

"I don't know exactly, but—" He glanced over his shoulder at the van. "I have to go, but promise me you'll be careful. All of you."

Before I could respond, he pulled me into a quick hug. "Take care of Clinton," he whispered. "He looks up to you more than you know."

"James!" Principal Tada's voice cut through the crowd. "The van is waiting."

He ran back to the line, climbed into the van, and just like that, he was gone. The engine rumbled to life, and we watched as our roommate disappeared behind tinted windows.

The crowd began to disperse, but I remained frozen in place. James's words echoed in my mind: Students disappearing before graduation.

"You okay?" Derrick asked.

I wasn't okay. The fire inside me was stirring again, responding to my anxiety. I could feel that golden energy building behind my eyes, threatening to spill over.

"Yeah," I lied. "Just... it's weird, you know? He's been with us for years, and now he's just gone."

"That's how it works," Derrick said, but his voice lacked conviction. "We all knew this day would come."

As we walked back toward the class, I couldn't stop thinking about what James had said. The fire inside me pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat, and I wondered if this power growing inside me was connected to whatever was changing at School Central.

"We've missed break again," Derrick said, checking his watch.

It's not that we're skipping—we just don't have the belief to buy decent food.

"You hungry?" he asked.

I was about to answer when I heard it again—not Derrick's voice, but his thoughts, faint and fragmented: ...worried about you, bro... something different about you...

My blood ran cold. It was spreading.