Krishna woke up to the familiar hum of his dorm room at USCT, the first rays of sunlight creeping through the blinds and casting soft shadows across the room. His mind was still foggy from sleep, but the sound of the digital clock buzzing on the nightstand signaled that it was already 6:00 AM. The day had begun, but he wasn't quite ready for it. He groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes, trying to shake off the drowsiness.

  As his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room, something caught his attention—a glint of gold on his desk. It was unusual, especially since Krishna had been certain he hadn’t left anything like that out the night before. Curiosity piqued, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked over to the desk.

  There, lying atop a stack of books, was a golden amulet. It had an intricate, almost mesmerizing design, with swirling patterns etched into its surface. Its warmth felt odd, as though it had been waiting for him, just out of sight. Krishna's fingers hesitated for a moment before he reached out and picked it up. As his hand closed around it, he could feel the weight of the amulet, both literal and somehow... symbolic.

  Turning it over, Krishna noticed a small engraving on the back: "From Mika." His heart skipped a beat. Mika... He hadn’t heard from her in a while. They had shared moments of conversation before, but it had been weeks since he’d last seen her. The fact that she had left him something so personal—something this unique—was a curious and unsettling gesture.

  But what did it mean? Why now? And how had it ended up here, in his room, in the middle of the night? Krishna’s mind began to race as he turned the amulet over in his hand, examining its details. The amulet didn’t look like something you’d find lying around casually. It felt significant, almost like it held more meaning than just being a gift or a token.

  Had she been in town? Had she been close by? Was it a message, or perhaps a warning? Krishna’s thoughts swirled as he began to piece together the puzzle in his head, but nothing seemed to make sense. Why Mika? Why this golden amulet?

  He glanced around his room for any other signs—anything else that might give him a clue—but there was nothing. Just the usual clutter of papers, books, and personal items scattered around. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the amulet was more than just an odd gift. There was a sense of urgency in the air, an unspoken weight that seemed to press down on him the longer he held it.

  “Maybe I’m overthinking this,” Krishna muttered to himself, shaking his head. But deep down, he knew better. There was something off about this. Something hidden beneath the surface. And he was about to find out just what it was.

  With one last glance at the golden amulet, Krishna tucked it into his pocket, made a mental note to dig into Mika's whereabouts later, and reluctantly set about getting ready for the day. But one thing was certain—the world had just shifted a little, and he was standing right in the middle of it, uncertain of what was to come next.

  The morning passed quietly, a gentle hum of activity in the classrooms and training areas of USCT. Krishna found himself enjoying the rare moments of calm, chatting with his classmates between lessons and sparring during training. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of camaraderie with the team. His intellect and adaptability had always made him excel, but today, there was a slight unease settling in his chest, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.

  It was during the morning training session that Krishna first noticed her—a woman in a security uniform. Sakura, one of the guards on duty, seemed to be keeping her gaze fixed on him. Krishna wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, but her stare was unsettling in its intensity. It was hard to ignore, as if she were analyzing him, observing his every movement. He met her gaze for a moment, but then quickly turned his attention elsewhere, continuing to focus on his training.

  It wasn't the kind of thing Krishna usually dwelled on, but he couldn't shake the thought that something wasn’t quite right about it. Still, he kept his cool, pushing the worry to the back of his mind. Maybe it was just paranoia. After all, who would be interested in someone like him? He wasn't special—he didn’t even have a Catalyst.

  The day continued without incident until they reached their next class, where Dave, the #5 hero known as The Chained Hero, was about to begin a lecture. Dave’s methods of teaching were practical, no-nonsense, and often included demonstrations of his brutal techniques, much to the students' mixed reactions. He was a formidable figure—gruff, grumpy, and tough as nails. The students respected him, if not feared him.

  But before Dave could even begin the lesson, an interruption came. A voice echoed from the speaker mounted on the wall—a strange, mechanical voice, as if coming from nowhere but everywhere at once.

  “Attention, classes of USCT,” the voice boomed, sending an eerie ripple through the room. “Report to the training grounds immediately. I repeat, report to the training grounds.”

  Krishna exchanged glances with his classmates. The atmosphere instantly shifted from mundane to tense. There was an unfamiliar urgency in the announcement, and the unease that had been nagging at Krishna earlier returned with a vengeance. Something was wrong.

  The students filed out of the classroom and made their way toward the training grounds, murmurs filling the air. When they arrived, they saw Dr. Coby Vigor, the #2 hero, standing at the forefront. His expression was serious, devoid of the usual cheer he carried. His presence alone was enough to send a ripple of anticipation through the group. Behind him, a few other teachers and staff stood in quiet solidarity, their faces grim.

  Dr. Vigor raised his hand, signaling for silence. The room settled down, every eye on him as he prepared to speak.

  “Everyone listen up,” Coby began, his voice calm but heavy with gravity. “I’m afraid we have bad news. Last night, Sakura, one of the security guards here at USCT, was found murdered.”

  A hushed murmur swept through the crowd, and Krishna felt a chill run down his spine. Sakura? The woman he’d seen watching him earlier that day?

  Coby continued, “The thing is, everyone here, including those on the training grounds this morning, swears they saw her right here—alive and well—just hours before her death.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence as the words hung in the air, leaving everyone to process the implications. Sakura’s death didn’t just seem like a tragedy; it felt wrong, like the entire world was suddenly off balance.

  “We believe it’s possible,” Coby went on, “that someone has infiltrated this facility. We have reason to suspect that Mika Regina, aka The Girl, may be hiding within USCT.”

  At the mention of Mika Regina, Krishna’s heart skipped a beat. The Girl. Mika. The terrifying figure whose name had been whispered through the underground, the one with the deadly abilities to transform and absorb powers. If she was here, it would explain everything—the unsettling feeling Krishna had earlier, the strange atmosphere around the school, the tension building as they all gathered on the training grounds.

  But how? How had she gotten in? And what did she want?

  The air was thick with suspicion. Krishna felt his mind racing. Mika Regina had the ability to disguise herself, to become anyone. Could she have been masquerading as one of the faculty or staff this whole time? And if so, who else was she pretending to be?

  “We’re on high alert,” Coby said, breaking Krishna out of his spiraling thoughts. “But you all need to be cautious. Anyone could be hiding their true identity. Anyone could be The Girl.”

  Krishna’s thoughts collided. Mika Regina was in the facility. Sakura was dead. And the worst part? They had no idea who she could be.

  “Stay alert, trust no one, and report any suspicious activity,” Coby finished, his voice growing more somber. “The situation has escalated, and we need to act quickly.”

  The students were dismissed, but the mood was anything but calm. Krishna couldn’t shake the image of Sakura’s lifeless body. His mind raced, piecing together the possibility that Mika Regina had already infiltrated their ranks—perhaps even taking the form of someone they trusted.

  As he walked back toward his dorm, Krishna’s unease grew. The lingering thought gnawed at him, a truth he could no longer ignore: The Girl was here, and there was no way of knowing who she was—until it was too late.

  The night had been full of laughter and lighthearted moments. Class K had gathered for a massive sleepover, and everything seemed like a perfect way to unwind after the tension-filled day. The students, though often burdened with the weight of their powers, came together with ease. Games, food, and good company made the evening feel like a reprieve from the chaos that had unfolded earlier.

  Krishna had even allowed himself a rare moment of peace, enjoying the warmth of the group and the sense of belonging. He could almost forget about the earlier fear and uncertainty. Almost.

  The night passed quietly, and eventually, everyone settled down to sleep. Krishna had found a spot, nestled in a cozy corner, trying to forget the creeping anxiety that had lingered since the morning. His exhaustion won out, and he slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  But it wasn’t long before he awoke.

  He felt it first—the warmth pressing against him. Something soft, something... wrong. His heart jolted when he realized it wasn’t the usual comfort of his pillow or blanket. The sensation of arms around him.

  He blinked groggily, only to find himself face-to-face with Emma, one of his classmates. She had her arms wrapped around him in a tight, almost protective embrace, her breath soft and steady. Krishna was confused. What’s going on? Why is she... holding me like this?

  Before he could process the situation, Emma’s features shifted. Her face—Emma’s face—morphed, twisting into a smile that was both haunting and unnatural. The soft warmth of her embrace turned cold, like an icy grip on his chest. His breath caught in his throat as her eyes darkened, the warmth of her body replaced by a chilling presence.

  “Do not try to make a noise,” the voice whispered—it wasn’t Emma’s voice. It was smooth, cold, and laced with an unsettling sweetness. Krishna’s eyes widened as he recognized the voice. It was her. It was Mika.

  The world around him blurred. The cozy dorm room, the quiet night—it all felt like a dream. He wanted to scream, to shout for help, but her hand pressed firmly against his mouth, silencing him with terrifying precision. His chest tightened as he tried to move, but her grip only tightened, holding him in place as if she were a predator with no fear of being caught.

  Mika Regina—the Girl, the deadly assassin with the ability to transform, to become anyone—had found him.

  Krishna’s mind raced. How? How did she get in here? How did she find me? He felt the full weight of her body against his as she leaned in, her scent—a mix of something dark and dangerous—overwhelming his senses.

  Her voice, still soft but with an edge of cruel amusement, echoed in his ear. “I know you’re smart, Krishna,” she purred, “but it’s no use. You can’t escape. You can’t warn them. I’ll be whoever I want to be.”

  Terror gripped him as he realized she wasn’t just here to kill him. No, Mika had something far worse in mind. She could be anyone. She could have already become anyone—anyone in this room, anyone in the facility.

  Her fingers trailed lightly across his cheek, sending a shiver down his spine. Her touch was unnervingly gentle, as if toying with him. “Don’t worry,” she continued, her breath warm against his ear. “I’ll make sure you stay quiet.”

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  Krishna’s heart pounded in his chest, panic flooding his system. He had no idea what Mika’s plans were, but he knew one thing for sure—he couldn’t let her control the situation. He had to stay calm, think, and find a way out. There was no telling how long she’d stay in her Emma guise or who she might be after next.

  He forced himself to breathe slowly, his mind working rapidly, despite the overwhelming fear. Focus, Krishna. She’s not invincible. She has weaknesses. He had to stay sharp, despite the terrifying situation.

  But in that moment, as the cold pressure of her hand against his mouth and the weight of her transformed body held him down, Krishna realized how real the threat was. This wasn’t just about surviving—it was about outsmarting someone who could be anyone.

  Mika was playing a dangerous game. And Krishna had no choice but to play along, at least for now.

  The warmth of Mika’s body against his was suffocating. Krishna felt the weight of her embrace, her presence pressing down on him like a force he couldn’t escape. Every instinct screamed at him to fight back, to break free, but the terrifying reality of the situation kept him frozen.

  Her arms wrapped around him tighter, and Krishna could feel the heat of her breath against his skin. He had never felt more vulnerable in his life. The sensation of her lips grazing his skin, the eerie softness in her touch—it all made his stomach churn with dread.

  Mika, or rather the illusion of Emma, was playing with him. He could feel it in the way she held him, the way her movements were slow, deliberate, almost as if savoring his fear. Her hand slid down his body in a way that made his pulse race, and her whispered words dripped with dark pleasure.

  "You're going to stay quiet for me, right, Krishna?" she murmured, her voice low and sweet, a stark contrast to the monstrousness of the situation. "You wouldn’t want to ruin all of this... would you?"

  Krishna’s mind was spinning, panic rising like a tide, but he knew he had to remain calm. She’s toying with me, he thought, trying to make me scared enough to break. But I can’t. I can’t let her see that she has any control.

  Mika kissed him softly, and Krishna’s skin crawled under the touch. He forced himself to remain still, the urge to fight it back rising in his chest, but he couldn’t let her see that. She would know. She was a master of manipulation, of using her powers to get under the skin of her prey.

  Krishna’s only chance was to pretend. To give her a false sense of security, to let her think that she had already won.

  He knew what he had to do.

  His breathing slowed, his body stiffening for a moment before he relaxed, his muscles going slack. His eyes fluttered closed, and he let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, as if surrendering to her touch. He didn’t fight it, didn’t push her away. Instead, he let himself go limp in her arms.

  The shift in his body was subtle, but Mika seemed to sense it immediately. She relaxed slightly, her grip loosening just a fraction. The moment was fleeting, but it was enough for Krishna to latch onto. He had to make her think he was falling for her game, that he was too scared to resist, that he was giving in.

  "Good boy," Mika purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I knew you'd understand."

  Krishna could feel her smile against his skin, that chilling, predatory smile. He knew this moment wouldn’t last forever. She would grow complacent, and when she did, he would strike. But until then, he had to play along. He had to keep pretending he was helpless.

  His mind worked furiously. I need a plan, a way to break free when the time is right. I need to make her think she’s won. And then... then I’ll turn the tables.

  But for now, he couldn’t afford to rush. Every second spent in her grip was one more second he could use to gather his wits, to find a way out of this nightmare.

  Her lips brushed against his ear, and she whispered one final thing before pulling back slightly, as if savoring the moment. "You’re mine now, Krishna. You’ll see how quickly you belong to me."

  The threat in her voice sent a cold chill down his spine. But Krishna didn’t flinch. He just let out a soft, defeated sigh, pretending to succumb to her hold, all the while plotting his next move.

  He wasn’t out of the woods yet. But he would be—soon enough.

  Krishna’s heart sank as he realized what had just happened. The situation had taken a turn he hadn’t anticipated. His body, betraying him in the worst possible way, had revealed something he didn’t want to show Mika—his physical reaction. The growing tension in his lower body was a clear sign of something that wasn’t supposed to be there, especially not in this horrifying situation. the 5in sword stood up

  The moment Mika sensed the change, her smile grew wider, and Krishna could practically feel the smirk on her lips. He had been trying to keep up the facade, trying to manipulate her into thinking he was just a scared, helpless victim. But this… this was a slip-up he couldn’t take back.

  "Well, well...," Mika purred, her voice dripping with amusement. "Seems like you’re not as scared as you’re pretending to be, are you?"

  Krishna wanted to die. He could feel his face flush with embarrassment, his mind racing for a way to salvage this catastrophic moment. How could I let this happen? He cursed himself internally, but there was no way out of it now.

  "I knew you were pretending," Mika continued, her fingers lightly tracing his chest. "You’re not fooling me, Krishna. And now I know exactly what you want."

  Krishna groaned internally, but outwardly he remained still, not daring to speak or move. Play it cool. Keep pretending. I can fix this... somehow.

  "You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed," Mika giggled, her voice sweet yet laced with dark amusement. "But now that the truth is out, I guess you can stop pretending. Don’t worry, Krishna. I won’t bite... yet."

  The combination of fear, frustration, and mortification made Krishna’s mind race. There was no going back. What do I do now? How do I play this off? He had no choice but to keep playing along—he couldn’t afford to let her know how uncomfortable he felt.

  "You like this, don’t you?"

  The words were almost a whisper, like a challenge, as if she wanted him to admit it. Krishna bit his lip, refusing to let her see his thoughts. He had no desire to give her the satisfaction of admitting anything. If he was going to get out of this, it had to be through sheer willpower, not letting her get to him.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he let out another deep breath, keeping his expression neutral and his body still. If she wanted to think she had control, so be it. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of breaking.

  Mika’s hand trailed lower, but Krishna could feel her hesitation now. The briefest flicker of doubt was in her touch, and it told him something crucial—She wasn’t as sure of herself as she wanted to appear. That meant she was just as vulnerable in this game as he was.

  He just had to bide his time.

  Krishna had barely recovered from the chaos of the previous night when the familiar sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway. It was a heavy, deliberate step, the kind that signified someone who wasn’t just walking but observing. Krishna’s heart skipped, his body tensing instinctively.

  Lifeblood.

  Before Krishna could brace himself for another round of confrontation, a shadow loomed over the doorway. Lifeblood stood in the threshold, his imposing figure casting a dark silhouette in the dim light. His gaze flicked to Krishna, who was still on his bed, pretending to rest, and then shifted to the figure beside him.

  Emma—or, rather, the woman who had once been Emma—lay next to him, cuddled up against him in a way that almost seemed too intimate for their usual relationship. But Krishna knew better than to trust the appearance of the moment. Something was off.

  Mika was clever. Mika was always clever. She had disguised herself again, this time as Emma, hoping to lull Krishna into a false sense of security. But Lifeblood wasn’t fooled. The man had lived for centuries, and he could see through every subtle shift, every trace of deception, with the experience of someone who’d seen it all.

  Krishna tried to steady his breath, keeping his face neutral, but he could feel the tension mounting in the room. Mika—or Dracula, whatever she was calling herself now—had already demonstrated her ability to fool people, to become anyone she wanted. But Lifeblood was no ordinary opponent.

  With a sharp, almost predatory focus, Lifeblood took one long look at the scene. His expression didn’t change, but the energy in the room seemed to shift. Krishna could feel the weight of Lifeblood’s awareness on him, the silent pressure of being evaluated. He knew it was only a matter of time before Lifeblood made his move.

  Then, in one fluid motion, Lifeblood took a step forward, his gaze never leaving the two of them. “Krishna,” he said, his voice deep and laced with the authority of someone who had seen centuries pass. “I’ve lived long enough to know when something doesn’t add up.”

  Mika, still in her Emma disguise, stiffened ever so slightly, but it was enough. Lifeblood’s keen eyes didn’t miss it. He had seen the smallest change in her posture—the twitch in her muscles as if preparing for an escape, or worse, an attack.

  “You know as well as I do,” Lifeblood continued, his tone unwavering, “that Emma would never act like this. She’s not the type to—” He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he raised his hand slightly, a calm but deliberate movement.

  Before either of them could react, Lifeblood’s fist shot forward, his speed impossible to track with the naked eye. The force behind the punch was enough to split the air, the sound of it almost deafening as it tore through the room. But Mika—Dracula—was quick. Too quick.

  She darted to the side, her movements a blur, and with a sudden flick of her wrist, she vanished out of the room. The window swung open, and she was gone before Lifeblood’s fist could connect.

  Lifeblood stood there for a moment, his expression unreadable. He could have torn through the entire room in a heartbeat, could have made the whole building crumble if he’d wanted to. But instead, he exhaled slowly, his eyes narrowing.

  “Lucky,” he muttered under his breath, his voice carrying the weight of frustration. “She escaped again.”

  Krishna let out a silent breath, the tension still in his chest. He hadn’t even seen Mika move, and yet she had evaded Lifeblood’s wrath. It was clear that he wasn’t the only one who underestimated her—Lifeblood himself had come up short in the face of her unpredictable nature.

  With one last glance at Krishna, Lifeblood finally spoke again, his voice softer this time, but no less intense. “You’re lucky she’s fast, Krishna. Because I was about to make a hole in her that not even her Catalyst could fix.” His eyes briefly softened, a strange empathy flickering beneath the surface. “But you’ll need to be more careful. She’s after you, and I don’t think she’s going to give up anytime soon.”

  Krishna nodded, still shaken by the close call. He knew that, deep down, this was only the beginning. Mika—or whoever she was—was going to come back. And next time, Krishna wasn’t sure he’d be able to escape.

  Lifeblood’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before he turned and left the room. The silence that followed felt suffocating, leaving Krishna alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t afford to be distracted again. He had a feeling that the next time Mika appeared, things might not be so easy to escape from.

  He ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady his breath. The game was getting more dangerous by the minute, and Krishna was beginning to realize just how high the stakes were.

  As Mika made her narrow escape, weaving through the corridors of the facility with the grace of a predator slipping into the shadows, she didn't notice the figure lurking in the dark corner of the hallway. The faintest sound of boots on the ground signaled someone was waiting for her.

  It was Plague Doctor.

  His figure loomed in the dimly lit hallway, his presence almost haunting, his face obscured by his eerie mask. The air around him always felt heavy, thick with the scent of death and decay. His voice, when it came, was low and gravelly, almost an exhale from the abyss itself.

  "Mika," he began, his tone cool and detached. "You have a habit of making everything... complicated."

  Mika froze. Her eyes narrowed, the faintest shift in her expression showing she hadn’t expected him. She'd hoped to slip away unnoticed, but Plague Doctor wasn't someone you could easily escape.

  "Obsessive much?" Plague Doctor continued, his voice dripping with a mix of amusement and reprimand. "I watched you, you know. Fooling Krishna like that, playing your little games—do you think this is helping your situation?"

  Mika’s lips curled into a slight smirk, her confidence unshaken despite his words. "Oh, I'm just having a little fun. Do you have a problem with that?"

  "Fun?" Plague Doctor's voice darkened, a warning edge creeping into his words. "This isn't a game, Mika. You're getting too wrapped up in your obsession. You want to break him, don't you? You want to tear him apart piece by piece. But you’re forgetting something important: obsession clouds your judgment."

  Mika rolled her eyes, though she couldn't entirely hide the flicker of discomfort at the truth in his words. "You really think so? I’m just having a little fun with him. He’s such an easy target, don’t you think?"

  "An easy target?" Plague Doctor scoffed, his tone thick with disdain. "You’re so caught up in your little mind games, you’re forgetting that he is the target. Krishna's not like the others, Mika. He’s a player, and you’re just a pawn in his game. Keep underestimating him, and you might find yourself trapped in your own obsession."

  Mika didn't respond immediately. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her gaze flickering to the side as if contemplating his words. Plague Doctor, however, didn’t let the silence linger.

  "You've been playing a dangerous game for too long. It's time to focus. Your obsession with Krishna is blinding you to the bigger picture."

  Her smirk faded, replaced by a rare moment of uncertainty. "What do you mean?"

  Plague Doctor took a step closer, his voice cold and methodical. "You think you can just take him apart piece by piece, break him down like you’ve done with so many others. But Krishna’s not some fragile little thing to break. He’s got something more dangerous inside him than you realize—something that you’ve been distracted from."

  Mika stared at him, her usually confident expression faltering. She didn't like being told what to do, least of all by Plague Doctor, but he wasn’t wrong. The games were getting more intense, and if she wasn’t careful, she might find herself playing a losing hand.

  Plague Doctor turned his back, his voice cutting through the tension. "If you don’t want to be consumed by your own obsession, you’d better start thinking with your head instead of your instincts. Keep this up, and you’ll end up being the one who’s destroyed."

  Mika didn’t reply, but the unease gnawing at her started to settle in. Maybe—just maybe—there was some truth to his words. Still, she couldn’t help herself. Krishna was too much of a challenge to resist.

  With a final glance, Plague Doctor disappeared into the shadows, leaving Mika to wrestle with his advice. Her obsession with Krishna had only grown stronger, but as the dark figure faded away, she knew she couldn’t ignore the warning any longer. She just couldn’t bring herself to let go of the game... yet.