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Prologue I: A Bad Omen.

I was a fool to ever believe life would suddenly change its tune for me. That day, I learned just how cruel it could be.

That fateful day…

Loyed stood on the cracked pavement, backpack slung over one shoulder. Nineteen, sharp-eyed, quiet-minded, with nappy dreadlocks. Excitement should have stirred him, but a persistent weight clung to his chest, as if the city itself pressed down on him.

Johannesburg buzzed around him: cars honking, a street vendor calling out fresh fruit, someone laughing too loudly on the phone. He noticed it all but it barely registered. His thoughts were elsewhere.

He looked up at the sky, squinting against the harsh sun, and muttered, "Man… how I wish my life wasn't so… mundane."

The bus rounded the corner with a mechanical groan, brakes hissing as it came to a stop. Loyed climbed aboard, claimed a window seat, and watched the buildings blur past, his thoughts sinking deeper with each passing street.

The radio overhead crackled to life, a news anchor's voice slicing through the hum of passengers.

"—and authorities are investigating the latest incident in the city. Another young man found dead this morning near the Market District. Police urge caution. No leads have been confirmed, but residents report a strange… unusual presence in the area."

Loyed's gaze shifted from the passing streets to the anchor on the tiny bus screen. Another one? His stomach twisted. The reports had been frequent lately, but he'd never paid much attention. Now… the unease gnawed at him.

Something in the air seemed different. Sharp. Expectant. His pulse quickened, a silent warning he couldn't quite place.

As his eyes drifted over the city through the bus window, he noticed a woman being robbed on the street. He didn't flinch; his gaze stayed the same, unbothered—at least on the surface.

He exhaled slowly.

As much as one might want to change the world for the better, it's not that simple—in fact, it's nearly impossible. The strong prey on the weak, nature at its cruelest. And even if you had the power to make a difference, that power would only twist you in the end.

A faint, bitter smile curved at his lips.

Someone like me… forever powerless. It's meaningless to even think about it.

Outside, the city carried on, oblivious. Inside, he sat by the window, weighed down by thoughts far heavier than someone his age should bear.

The bus hissed again, doors folding with a tired sigh. He stepped onto the pavement, shoes meeting the stone. Before him, the University of Folkstone rose like a fortress. Towers and gates bathed in sunlight. He took a moment, consuming it all.

A faint smile lingered, tinged with uncertainty.

"Well… it's whatever, I guess."

With that, he crossed the threshold into campus.

The campus erupted around him. Laughter spilled from every corner, voices collided, and the air thrummed with chaotic energy.

It hit him all at once. His chest tightened, heart pounding too fast, too loud. He clenched his fists, forcing calm into his frame. He couldn't afford to waver.

Think. If I'm going to approach someone, it has to be someone alone. They'll understand—being in the same predicament means less chance they'll push back. Common sense… yes?

His gaze swept the courtyard. And then he found her.

She sat on a bench beneath the shade of a tree, absorbed in a book. Amid the campus chaos, she stood apart. Her pale skin radiated softly. Her hair danced in the breeze. When she lifted her head, her sky-blue eyes, clear and brilliant.

Time stopped.

His breath caught, heart lurching in his chest. A whisper, reverent and meant for no one but himself, slipped out:

"Damn…"

He swallowed then steeled his nerves and advanced like a rookie soldier charging to the frontlines.

"Uh… hey." He nervously played with a dreadlock.

She set her book down on the bench and looked at him. In her eyes was nothing but inviting energy.

"Hi," she replied, her voice a calm breeze. "How are you?"

For a moment, his composure faltered. He clenched his fist, forcing steadiness back into his voice as he extended his hand.

"I'm good, thank you… and yourself?"

She placed her hand in his—it was warm, delicate, pulling him in like a magnet. For a stranger, her energy felt strangely familiar, dangerously inviting.

"I'm doing wonderful, thank you for asking." Her lips curved into a smile that seemed capable of softening even the most unyielding soul.

"Hope I'm not… bothering?" he asked cautiously.

Sincerity woven through her words. "No, not at all. In fact… I'm glad you approached me."

His eyes widened, disbelief flickering. "You must be kidding. Someone as… attractive as you must get approached at least once every hour."

A soft laugh escaped her, hand rising delicately to cover her mouth.

"I think you're exaggerating a bit. Yes, I've been approached a couple of times today…"

Her gaze softened, her voice lowering. "…that doesn't mean I'm obliged to give them my attention."

The words lingered, feeding Loyed's curiosity.

"So then… why give me the time of day?" he asked, almost unconsciously.

She didn't answer right away, eyes searching his as if reading past the surface. A faint, teasing smile curved her lips.

"Hmmm… I dunno," she whispered, her voice brushing against him. "It just felt right."

A faint smile crept across Loyed's lips. He leaned slightly closer. "You're… an eccentric one, aren't you?"

"I have a feeling you and I are alike in that regard, mister."

For a moment, silence wrapped around them, eyes locked, the world shrinking to just the two of them as the voices around campus softened, overlapping like distant whispers. Then, as if breaking a fragile spell, laughter spilled unrestrained, entirely theirs.

"I know it's a little late for this, but… Loyed Stoner."

Her fingers lingered on the edge of her book, her smile soft and soothing, drawing him in.

"Bella Goldberg. The pleasure's all mine… please, sit."

Loyed took a seat, keeping a respectful distance. Now that their names had been exchanged, the air between them shifted—lighter, yet charged with something unspoken.

His thoughts tangled despite himself. She was… almost too open, too warm for a stranger. He pushed the feeling aside, forcing reason over instinct.

"I honestly never pegged you as assertive," he admitted, a hint of awkwardness threading his words. "I suppose that just proves how clueless I am."

She answered calmly, without hesitation. "I only act this way toward people I want to get close to."

Her words struck deeper than he expected, each heartbeat pounding against his ribs. He could only sit there, fingers twisting a dreadlock as Bella's gaze lingered—devastatingly sincere.

What's happening here…? There's no way she meant that.

Time softened around them, the campus noise fading into the background. Before long, their steps fell into sync as they walked together. Banners welcoming first-years fluttered in the breeze, and in the distance, the great hall buzzed with anticipation for orientation.

Bella looked ahead, her smile tight just enough to hold back the excitement threatening to spill over.

Loyed glanced at her, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

"Uh… so, I couldn't help but notice earlier—you were reading The Anatomy of Evil. Are you… studying to be a criminal psychologist or something?"

Bella's eyes lit up, brilliant and sharp.

"Yes!" she blurted, enthusiasm bursting through her voice. Almost immediately, she caught herself, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she cleared her throat.

"I mean… yes. How observant of you."

Her lips curved into a knowing smile.

"You seem like someone who reads more than he lets on."

Loyed chuckled, shaking his head. "Not as much as you think. But I do enjoy a good read now and again." He hesitated, then asked, "Why criminal psychology though?"

The question hung between them, carried by the rhythm of their steps and the low hum of students drifting toward the hall.

Bella slowed, tilting her head slightly as she answered with certainty.

"Nothing fascinates me more than the mind of a criminal. The mystery behind their actions—the reasoning… or the absence of it." She glanced ahead, eyes burning. "I want to know how far cruelty can go. How deep it runs. To trace it back to its source."

Her tone softened, but the fire in her eyes didn't fade.

"And maybe—if we understand that—we can find a way to cut it out at the root."

She exhaled, a small, almost self-aware smile touching her lips.

"I know it sounds idealistic. Maybe even a little cringe. But that's genuinely what I want."

Loyed blinked, caught off guard. Amazement welled up, not just at her ambition, but at the raw honesty in her voice. She wasn't merely dreaming; she was moving toward it. A resolve like that was rare. Almost unreal to him.

His eyes flickered, fragile, as a thought surfaced.

I could never be that kind of person… people like Bella are just wired differently.

Before he could linger on it, Bella tilted her head, smiling warmly.

"So, Loyed. What are you studying?"

He exhaled slowly, his voice calm, though a light weight lingered beneath it.

"Law. Not out of love, or some grand ambition… more out of obligation." He looked down, lips curling into a faint, almost forced smile. "But I don't mind. I'll make a decent living—a comfortable life. Not a terrible way to live, if you ask me…"

Even as he spoke, sadness betrayed him, slipping past his carefully maintained composure. Bella noticed instantly. Her smile softened, silent and reassuring.

"Well, maybe you haven't found your purpose yet. But I'm sure without a shadow of a doubt, you will. And who knows…" Her voice lifted with playful certainty. "…maybe you're meant to help me achieve my goal. You being a lawyer and all, you'll have plenty of connections with criminals for me!"

Her laughter rang out. But for Loyed, it wasn't the sound but her words. They struck deep, washing over him and peeling away the mask he usually wore. His smile widened, real this time, and his eyes… they carried life.

How long has it been, he wondered, since someone actually saw value in me…

He turned to her, voice steadier. "Well… I'm looking forward to it."

Bella slowed her steps, eyes lingering on him with quiet intrigue. A soft smile curved her lips as she whispered, almost under her breath,

"So… that's what your real smile looks like. It's… precious."

The words lingered, settling between them. This was a moment of connection.

A warmth stirred in his chest, one he hadn't felt in years. His eyes flickered to Bella, drawn to her presence.

"You know, Bella…" he said softly, his voice rare in its sincerity. "…I'm glad I met you."

Bella froze, color flooding her cheeks. She raised her hands to cover her face, her usual composure unraveling.

"Oh my… d-don't say things like that out of the blue…"

Loyed chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "My bad, my bad. I'll try not to catch you off guard again."

Even so, he caught her smile peeking through her fingers, faint but bright nevertheless.

Soon, they entered the great hall. The buzz of voices swelled as students hurried to their seats. Banners bearing the University's crest hung overhead. Loyed and Bella slid into seats side by side as the doors creaked open. The Dean strode in, flanked by lecturers whose solemn expressions immediately silenced the room.

Orientation had begun.

Two hours passed in a blur of announcements, speeches, and introductions. Finally, with the Dean's closing instructions, the assembly dissolved. Students spilled into the corridors, scattering toward their courses.

At the exit, Bella halted and turned to him, a note of shyness slipping beneath her usual confidence.

"Hey, Loyed… can we hang out after classes?"

A warm smile spread across his face. "What a coincidence, I was actually thinking of the same thing."

She waved, a smile on her lips. "Well, I'll see you then."

Then she melted into the sea of students, her blue hair catching the light, her presence lingering long after she vanished into the crowd.

Loyed stood rooted, the warmth of her presence clinging to him. His lips curved into a genuine smile.

I think… I'm in love.

But the thought carried a flicker of uncertainty. His expression faltered, as if some part of him already knew.

"…Is this… a bad omen?"

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