Picking themselves up to head to class, Anita halted Mdachi.
"Dachi..." she began. Mdachi turned to her, waiting. "I'm really sorry about what I said yesterday. I was trying to look out for you, but I shouldn't have told you to take the backseat in all this."
"It's okay," Mdachi replied genuinely. "I know you were just trying to protect me. And honestly, I'd already forgotten about it."
"...So we're cool?" Anita asked, hope flickering in her eyes.
With a warm, reassuring smile, Mdachi adjusted his bag on his back and nodded. "You don't even need to ask."
Now poised to leave, Mdachi waved as he started hurrying away. "Gotta go now, Ann. Catch you later!"
"Okay. Catch you later too," Anita called after him-then turned.
She froze.
Face twisting into anger, she spun around sharply.
"I told you not to call me that!" she shouted, louder this time, fury laced in every syllable as Mdachi turned the corner and disappeared.
Turning back with a furious groan, Anita's jaw tightened. Her fists clenched into stiff, shaking balls at her sides. Her eyes burned ahead with a fierce glare.
She hated being called Ann. Mdachi was definitely going to pay for that.
A couple passed her-hands intertwined-staring in awe. They recognized her instantly. Anita was one of the most well-known students in school. Rumor had it that she could be terrifying when angry. But now, having seen it up close... they silently vowed never to get on her bad side.
Meanwhile, in the corridor Mdachi had disappeared into, he walked calmly with a slight bounce in his step. Adjusting his glasses, a sly grin curled onto his lips. His eyes gleamed with playful mischief.
-----
As the last few students trickled out of the hallways, Edward leaned coolly against the wall near the junction of two corridors, arms folded across his chest, his expression unreadable.
After a few seconds of stillness, he glanced ahead.
Then behind him.
Then stretched his neck to peer down the narrow hallway on his right.
The coast was clear.
No more footsteps. No chattering voices.
Now was his chance.
Pushing off the wall, Edward strode into the hallway.
Unlike the rest of the school, this corridor was dim-no ceiling lights, no windows. The air felt colder, heavier. It was lined with office doors belonging to senior teachers.
His sneakers squeaked faintly on the polished marble as he moved swiftly, glancing around nervously.
When he reached the very last door-Madam Beatrice's office-he paused. His eyes scanned the frosted wire-mesh glass embedded in the upper half of the door.
No one inside.
Heart pounding, Edward placed his hand on the cold metal knob and turned it, eyes shut tight, hoping-
Click.
Unlocked.
Yes. Just as he had expected. There was really no reason to lock it. The students in this school had more than enough-no one would dare steal from teachers.
Slipping inside, he eased the door shut behind him with care.
He was in.
Now it was time to execute his mission.
He'd seen Madam Beatrice just minutes ago in the Teachers' Lounge. She wasn't coming back anytime soon.
At first, a fresh herbal-mint scent hit his nose. His gaze swept across the neatly arranged office. Potted plants. Sunlight-filtered shelves. Peaceful ambiance.
"...Okay," Edward muttered to himself, confused. "For a potentially evil witch, I expected more dark vibes." His face fell. "Just hope she's the one, though."
He hurried to her desk, yanking open drawers and cabinets in a frantic search for anything-a tome, notes, symbols-that might implicate her.
Then-
"Wait a minute," he whispered, eyes narrowing. "There's a hidden compartment in this drawer."
It was the lowest drawer. Suspiciously shallow.
But there was no obvious way to open it. And the lighting wasn't helping.
"Ugh, so dim in here," he grumbled, tapping around inside the drawer, eyes straining to see.
He got up and briskly pulled the curtain open.
Warm sunlight spilled into the room.
Back at the desk, Edward pushed aside pens and books to get a better look at the compartment. Just as he was starting to examine it-
Footsteps.
He froze.
Straining to listen, he heard them again.
Closer.
Getting louder.
Someone was coming.
With a gasp, he slammed the drawer shut and turned to draw the curtain again.
His heartbeat pounded in his chest like a war drum. His breathing quickened. Panic flared.
"Oh no. She's coming. I'm toast. So fucking toast," he muttered under his breath, eyes scanning for a hiding place.
Nowhere seemed safe.
In the end, he ducked behind the desk and sat on the floor, his back pressed against the cabinet.
Waiting.
Preparing.
If it came to it, he would use his powers. He didn't know much-he could only lift objects so far-but it would have to be enough.
The footsteps stopped.
The doorknob turned.
The door creaked open slowly.
Then click-locked from the inside.
"Oh shit," Edward thought in terror. "She knows I'm here. It's a trap. I fucking fell for it. I'm so screwed."
His whole body tensed.
He positioned his hands. The incantation already at the tip of his tongue.
No choice.
Whoever came in had to be taken down.
The figure approached the desk. Paused. Then slowly moved around the side-
Edward sprang up, shouted the spell, and thrust his hands forward.
His hand promptly glowed faintly. The intruder slammed against the wall and hovered midair, suspended by Edward's magic.
His expression was fierce. Determined.
But then-his heart stopped.
It wasn't Madam Beatrice.
It was Mdachi.
Pale. Terrified. Glasses askew. Eyes wide with confusion. And mouth puffed, suppressing a scream.
"Mdachi?" Edward asked, clearly confused and surprised.
"Edward?" Mdachi finally managed to mutter after exhaling his suppressed scream.
"What are you doing here?" they both asked in unison.
Realizing he was still suspending his friend midair, Edward dropped his stance and released his focus.
The glow around his hands vanished—and so did the light around Mdachi, who immediately plummeted onto his butt with a soft thud.
"Ouch!" Mdachi grumbled as he fixed his glasses, still seated. "Couldn't you be a little gentler, Mr. Warlock Guy?"
Edward just gave him a deadpan look and rolled his eyes.
Mdachi stood and dusted himself off. "So… you can fling people around now? That's new. Nice progress."
"Was that sarcasm, Mdachi?" Edward asked, narrowing his eyes.
Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed Mdachi by the wrist and pulled him toward the desk. Edward opened the drawer.
"I'm guessing why you're here. So let's skip the pleasantries and just get to work, okay? There's a hidden compartment. Can you open it?"
With no argument, Mdachi knelt down and got to work after Edward reopened the curtains slightly to bring in light.
Edward stood over him, arms crossed, watching.
After a few tense moments, Mdachi finally grinned. "I did it!"
"Nice work, buddy," Edward praised, patting his back. "Now let's see what was so important it had to be hidden."
Reaching into the compartment, Edward grasped a heavy, leather-bound book. But just as he was pulling it out—
"Do you hear that?" Mdachi whispered, eyes widening.
Edward froze and listened.
Footsteps.
Again.
But this time—quicker.
Panic surged between them.
Before Edward could even move, Mdachi rushed to the door, unlocked it, and slipped into the small gap behind it, where he'd be hidden when it opened.
Edward, meanwhile, dashed to the window and yanked the curtains shut—but left a tiny gap. He dove back behind the desk. The drawer remained open. The tome was still halfway out.
"Here we go again," Edward muttered. "No—not again. This time… we go for real."
The doorknob twisted.
The door opened… then closed.
Edward clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut, summoning every ounce of courage.
"Anita?" Mdachi's voice asked in a low, confused whisper.
A short, muffled scream followed.
Edward raised a brow, then peeked out.
Mdachi had one hand clamped over Anita's mouth. Her eyes went wide when she saw Edward.
The two boys exchanged wide-eyed stares.
Anita wriggled free, adjusting her clothes and stance.
"Why am I not surprised?" she asked coolly.
"Neither are we," Edward replied in the same tone. "Now that the whole crew is here, why don't we just finish what we came to do?"
"I need to do something first now that we're both here," Anita said calmly.
"...Okay. What?" Edward asked.
"This!" Anita lunged at Mdachi, seized his ear, and tugged hard.
"Ouch! Ouch! OUUUCH!" Mdachi squealed, squirming.
Edward stood there in stunned silence before stepping forward. "Guys! I don't know what's going on, but can we please do what we came here for before we draw attention and get caught?"
Anita finally let go and huffed, "We'll resume later."
Mdachi rubbed his ear miserably and looked at her with a mix of pain and admiration.
"I presume you found the book you were talking about?" Anita asked, stepping closer to Edward.
"Yep," Edward said, lifting the book out fully.
It resembled Anita's family grimoire—except the symbol on its cover was different.
Mdachi joined them, still rubbing his ear.
Edward's fingers brushed over the strange symbol as he studied it… and then—
He abruptly looked up, staring into space.
A visual flash struck him like lightning.
Suddenly, he was no longer in the office.
He was back in that mysterious dream. The blurry scene from before sharpened, centering on one thing:
A hut wall.
And on it—the same symbol carved onto the grimoire's cover:
☽ ◯ ☾
║ ║
◯═◉═◯
║ ║
△⟐△
It was clear. Vivid. More real than the rest of the scene.
Then came the strange sensation: Edward felt like he was moving, drifting back into the present. Flashes of color darted past him, like time-warp streaks in a sci-fi film.
"Edward?! Edward?!" Anita's voice pierced through. She shook him frantically.
Mdachi was snapping his fingers in front of Edward's face, desperate to bring him back.
Blinking rapidly, Edward turned toward Anita, still dazed and dizzy.
"What was that, Edward?!" she asked, both horrified and deeply concerned.
Mdachi turned him back gently, a hand on Edward's shoulder, examining him.
Edward just stared blankly.
Then Mdachi slapped him—not hard, but firm enough to snap him out of it.
Anita gasped. "Did you just—?"
Edward shook his head vigorously, clearing the fog.
"I'm fine," he murmured. Then, more clearly: "I think."
Mdachi's brows furrowed. "Hey, buddy… what was that all about?"
Anita stood beside him, waiting silently for an answer.
"I'm not sure," Edward replied honestly.
He looked down at the book still clutched in his hands.
Flipping it open, he scanned the first page, then started flipping faster, more frantically.
It was a grimoire—no doubt. But something about it felt... different.
Anita and Mdachi exchanged glances, clearly shaken, and watched Edward in awe.
Then—
"Someone's coming," Mdachi said sharply.
Footsteps again. But these weren't the same as before.
These were sharper.
Clicking heels.
A woman.
The three froze.
They exchanged panicked glances. The window was the only escape.
The footsteps paused in the hallway.
Edward shoved the grimoire back into the drawer.
Mdachi moved fast, opening the window quietly.
The clicking resumed—louder, closer.
Madam Beatrice reached the door.
She opened it and stepped inside slowly, scanning the room.
She admired the neatness. Her plants, her pristine desk. Her sanctuary.
But then—her smile faded. Something had drawn her here. A feeling.
She stepped further in.
Behind the desk, Edward and Mdachi crouched together, frozen. Breath held.
Outside, Anita stood next to the window, chest rising and falling with adrenaline.
Madam Beatrice narrowed her eyes, voice airy and unsettling.
"Where are you, baby?" she whispered.