David couldn't focus.
Not during the first period. Not during lunch. Not even when the teacher called on him by name. His mind kept circling back to Chloe's words like a broken record stuck in a groove—grating, relentless, and impossible to ignore.
"You saved someone last night."
He hadn't. He just saw what they would do. Saw how things could go. That didn't make him a hero. Just someone who got there first.
He sat slumped in his chair, elbow on the desk, eyes blankly staring out the window. His reflection in the glass looked tired—haunted, almost. His head throbbed lightly. The aftereffects of overextending his power the night before still lingered like a low-frequency hum in his skull.
I'm not a good person, he told himself again. I don't save people. I see too much to believe anyone deserves saving.
He clenched his fists beneath the desk, gripping the fabric of his jeans tightly. Chloe was wasting her time. She didn't know him. She didn't understand what it meant to see the world the way he did—to see it from every angle, to live inside too many minds at once. Every smile had a motive. Every kindness, a shadow.
She'd be better off without him.
And yet, despite everything, he couldn't stop thinking about her eyes.
"She's running out of time."
He cursed under his breath.
Later, as students filtered out of the building, David lingered behind, half-hoping he could avoid her. But fate had other plans.
He stepped out into the hallway—and there she was.
Chloe stood near the exit, backpack slung over one shoulder, eyes locking onto his like she'd been waiting all day. No words. No greeting. Just that same look: unwavering, intense, full of hope she shouldn't have.
David's lips parted before his brain could stop him.
"I'll help you."
The words came fast. Uncontrolled. Unwanted.
Even Chloe looked surprised. "What?"
He blinked. Why did I say that? He didn't know. Maybe something cracked in him. Maybe he just wanted the noise to stop. Maybe—just maybe—he wanted to prove himself wrong.
He looked away quickly, jaw tight. "I said I'll help."
A pause. Then Chloe nodded, almost cautiously, as if she didn't want to scare the moment away. "Okay… okay."
David rubbed the back of his neck, still reeling from his own words. "After school. Rooftop above the old theater building. Be there."
And then he walked past her, heart racing, already regretting everything.
---
The rooftop was quiet.
Golden sunlight melted into the skyline, and the wind whipped gently at David's hoodie as he climbed onto the ledge and looked out over the city. In his hand was the mask—smooth, plain, with narrow eye slits. The same one he wore last night.
He stared at it in silence, letting the wind brush against his fingers.
Footsteps sounded behind him. Chloe emerged from the rooftop entrance, out of breath but eager.
"You came," she said.
David didn't turn. He simply raised the mask slightly in one hand and muttered, "Let's figure out where they're keeping your sister."
For the first time, there was no argument. No push and pull. Just two people standing on the edge of something uncertain… and the beginning of a plan.