CHAPTER 32: The Thirty-Second Fracture

The blond student didn’t blink. He just stood there—posture perfect, arms relaxed at his sides as if he didn’t need to try. His piercing blue eyes locked onto me, dissecting me like some flawed experiment under glass.

“So,” he said, voice sharp and smooth as glass, “you’re the brat everyone’s been whispering about. The misfit science user.”

The word hit like a slap. Conversations died. Forks froze midair. Even the hum of the cafeteria seemed to vanish. All eyes turned to us.

I stood slowly, deliberately. Saaya’s grip loosened; she stepped back, tense, eyes fixed on the stranger.

I didn’t look at her. I locked eyes with him.

“‘Misfit,’ huh?” My voice was low and steady. “That’s a bold way to introduce yourself to someone who hasn’t flattened you yet.”

He tilted his head, stepping forward. His footsteps were quiet—measured, almost predatory.

“Was that supposed to scare me? You think you’re impressive? A science user who got lucky in some backwater skirmish? You’re a bug. An outlier. A glitch pretending to matter in a system you don’t belong to. Magic is the true power here—and people like you are just noise.”

His voice hardened.

“When we fight, I’ll make sure everyone sees what you really are. I’ll drag your broken body across the arena floor. You’ll be the lesson—proof that science is obsolete. That even this pathetic academy can’t compare to ours.”

I let the silence hang heavy. Then I stepped forward—close enough to see the pulse flicker in his neck.

“You done?” I asked quietly.

He didn’t answer.

“Good.”

I leaned in just slightly.

“Because I’ve dissected better beings than you under a microscope and dumped their remains in biohazard bins.”

Saaya tensed behind me. I didn’t break eye contact.

“You keep calling me ‘science user’ like it’s an insult. But all I hear is fear. Fear of a power not born of bloodlines or inherited glyphs. Fear of something earned. Designed. Understood.”

I stepped closer.

“You? You’re a puppet playing with spells you barely grasp. I don’t borrow power—I rewrite it.”

His mouth twitched. Maybe a grin. But it didn’t reach his eyes.

I lowered my voice to a whisper, just enough for him to hear:

“You want to drag me across the arena? Try it. When I’m done with you, your skeleton will spell out E=mc².”

His jaw tightened. That one got through.

And I smiled.

A hush rippled through the cafeteria—slow and electric.

Chairs scraped back. Students leaned forward.

Even the lights flickered.

“You talk big,” he said coldly. “Let’s see if your science still works after I shatter every bone in your body.”

That’s when it started.

Sparks danced across his frame—thin, golden threads of electricity cracking the air.

His aura flared, lightning snapping and spiraling around him, carving scorched lines into the floor.

But I didn’t flinch.

A low hum began at my feet.

Then, with a flash of violet, my glyph circle bloomed beneath me.

A glowing oriole-shaped sigil, wide and complex, rotated beneath my boots, thrumming with raw scalar pressure.

Three orbs of deep purple revolved in perfect rhythm around the outer ring—like planets orbiting a singularity.

Behind my back, those same orbs hovered silently, tracing slow, synchronized arcs like celestial sentinels guarding me.

The air thickened—compressed.

Gravity bent inward, warping the cafeteria tiles underfoot.

A crackle of lightning arced between us—then bent midair, pulled down by unseen gravity, snapping loudly against the floor.

Everyone backed away.

Saaya didn’t move.

Neither did Alric.

They knew.

This wasn’t a standoff anymore.

This was the prelude to detonation.

I smirked, arms wide open, eyes locked on him.

“I don’t even need my full power to crush you.”

His face twisted with anger.

The electric punch surged forward, lightning crackling wildly, a storm about to strike.

At the same moment, my gravity-charged fist whipped through the air, warping space itself.

The two forces hurtled toward each other, poised to collide in a catastrophic explosion—

Suddenly, a wave of intense heat exploded between us.

Karna stepped in, radiating power.

Flames roared to life around his outstretched hands, blazing bright gold and deep crimson, swirling like a living inferno.

His fiery aura erupted outward, engulfing both attacks in a blazing wall of fire.

The lightning sizzled and fizzled, snapping harmlessly into the flames.

The gravity distortion twisted, but Karna’s fire held steady, unyielding—a furnace consuming all force.

Both punches froze mid-air, suspended by the scorching heat that burned with divine intensity.

Karna’s eyes locked onto ours, calm but resolute.

“Enough,” he said, voice deep and authoritative.

A tall man appeared before not just us, but every student in the cafeteria.

Light tan skin. Long, spiky dark crimson hair.

Two floating gold artifacts hovered behind him, as if ready to block any attack no matter the speed.

He wore no shirt, revealing dark crimson spiral tattoos winding down his right arm, a defined six-pack, and loose black pants—not baggy, not tight.

I stepped back. The blond troublemaker did the same.

“Who’s this?” I asked, still staring at the newcomer.

Karna glanced at me, then turned to the blond kid.

With his crimson aura blazing, he said two words:

“BACK OFF…”