The rise of the unorthodox

Mathew led me to the combat hall after I reluctantly agreed to follow him. I wasn't sure what his deal was, but at this point, I just wanted to get it over with.

"Why'd you bring me here, dude?" I asked, already regretting the decision to entertain his request.

He walked deeper into the hall, his voice echoing off the walls. "I've heard you're quite resilient and that you've got a unique ability. I just wanted to see if we could spar, see who comes out on top."

I groaned, clearly annoyed. "You followed me to the roof just to ask me to fight? Seriously? You're a weirdo."

He flashed a grin and scratched his head, but didn't respond.

"Whatever," I muttered. "The answer is still no. I'm not interested in fighting you."

I turned toward the exit, ready to leave. I didn't have time for this nonsense—today was supposed to be my break day.

"So you're scared, huh?" Mathew called out, folding his arms across his chest, a smug grin spreading across his face. "I mean, it's only natural to be scared when you're up against someone as powerful as me."

Was this guy for real? I couldn't tell if he was joking or genuinely delusional.

"I'm not twelve, you idiot. Get over yourself. I'm not fighting you." I shot back, irritated.

But before I could take another step, Mathew darted toward me, grabbing my hand. His fingers wrapped around mine—his hand was way bigger than mine.

"I won't let you go until you say yes," he said, tightening his grip.

I rolled my eyes. This guy really needed to be checked out. Honestly, I was more tempted to punch him in the face than to fight him, but I didn't feel like dealing with his antics anymore.

"Fine," I snapped. "Let's just get this over with."

His face lit up with a grin. Was this guy some kind of masochist? Why was he so excited about the idea of fighting me?

"Alright, weirdo, I don't have all day," I muttered under my breath as I got into position.

I pulled my chakrams from my side pouch, letting the metal discs glint in the light. Mathew also positioned himself in a stance, pulling a thin piece of thread from his bag.

"Looks like we both use strange weapons," he said with a chuckle, eyeing my chakrams.

"Seems so," I thought to myself, still trying to figure out what his ability was.

The room fell silent, neither of us making a move yet. I wasn't going to be the first to strike, though. I still didn't know his full ability, and if he'd been paying attention in class, he probably knew what mine was. I needed to be careful.

Mathew made the first move. He swung his thread at me with precision, but I dodged it easily. It slammed against the wall with a loud bang, leaving a deep scratch.

I immediately realized I had underestimated the strength of his weapon. My guard went up as I watched him closely.

"Hey, that's not fair! You're smaller than me—you can dodge faster," Mathew called out, but I didn't respond. I wasn't here to make it fair; I was here to win.

I jumped into the air, hands crossing as I skillfully threw my chakrams toward him. They sped through the air, closing the distance quickly. I didn't put too much force into the throw; I wasn't trying to hurt him, just see how he'd react.

As they neared him, Mathew's red eyes glowed, and he swiped his finger upwards. The shadows beneath him seemed to come alive, manifesting into a dark shield that blocked my chakrams. They ricocheted off the shield and came back at me.

I caught them with ease and quickly sprinted toward him. If I couldn't hit him from a distance, I'd close the gap and go for an up-close attack.

Just as I got close enough, pain suddenly shot through my stomach. My body was pushed backward with brutal force, and I fell to the ground with a gasp.

I looked down to see that Mathew's fist was surrounded by that same dark shadow he'd used for the shield. The punch had sent me flying.

"Are you crazy?!" I screamed through the pain. "This is supposed to be a friendly spar!"

Mathew chuckled, his grin wide and manic. "I never said that, did I?"

He flicked his wrist, sending a line of thread toward me. The thread was now coated with the same shadow, and with a sudden flick of his wrist, he lashed it at me, striking with intent. No mercy in his eyes—just pure insanity.

That was it. I'd had enough.

I quickly activated my hair manipulation ability, making my hair lengthen and form a protective barrier around me. Mathew's attacks began bouncing off my hair, but I could hear his laughter from the other side, as if this was all some sick game to him.

"Oh, don't hide now!" he yelled. "Things are just getting interesting!"

I gritted my teeth, pushing through the pain, and focused. I used my hair to propel myself across the room, landing with a roll. My hair unraveled from around me, and I used my sub ability, "Link."

The hair on my head shot toward him and latched onto his own. In an instant, I manipulated it, wrapping it tightly around him. I transferred the pain from my scalp to his head, hoping to get him to stop.

Mathew's laughter grew even louder. "That's a cool party trick, but it's not gonna do much to me!" he taunted.

I shot my chakrams toward him again, aiming for non-lethal strikes. They cut into his skin, making him giggle even more.

But then something happened. The hair I had rooted in his scalp suddenly died, and I lost control of it. He ripped it free, and I could feel my connection to it snap.

Mathew collapsed to the ground, still chuckling. His laughter was beginning to sound more like a maniacal cackle.

I took a step back, keeping my distance. This guy wasn't just crazy—he was completely losing his mind.

Then, the dark shadows around him started to shift and warp. His body began to tremble violently, and he lifted his head, his blood-red eyes now glowing with an eerie intensity.