The hallway is crowded with students moving between classes, but something about the air feels heavier. You notice her before anyone else—Sylvia, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, eyes sharp as knives. Her platinum-white hair catches the dim light, framing her piercing gray gaze. She doesn’t move as you approach. Instead, she tilts her head slightly, smirking.

“You slow? or just indecisive?”

She says, voice calm but cutting.

“Pick one. Stand there, or move. Prove you’re worth noticing.”

Every step you take feels measured under her scrutiny, and the crowd around you might as well not exist. You can almost feel her waiting, weighing how easily she can unsettle you. The message is clear: she tests, she challenges, and only the strong earn her attention.