Chapter 78 The First Shift

Chapter 78 The First Shift

Olivia's POV

Ethan looked at me without saying anything. But I already knew the answer—he had been through it. Whether it was cold stares or deliberate hostility, he had made it through all of that.

Now, I was by his side. I would never let go of his hand and leave him again.

Potions class was in the afternoon. I was two minutes late because Transfiguration ran over. Daphne had everyone take turns going up to demonstrate the transformation exercise, and when it got to me, things got stuck again.

That pebble was still a pebble, exactly the same as when I first stood up there.

Daphne didn't say anything, but the teaching assistant next to her made a "tsk" sound—very quiet, but I heard it.

When I walked into the Potions classroom, it was already full. Blair hadn't arrived yet, and everyone was at their seats preparing reagents and materials.

This class was about the basic preparation of volatile solutions. Everyone had a row of reagent bottles in front of them, colors ranging from light to dark.

I sat down in the row against the wall, opened my textbook, put on gloves, and started checking my materials.

A few students two rows in front of me had already started. One girl's hand shook when she was pouring reagent into a beaker, and a few extra drops went in. Someone next to her said something, and she just shrugged it off.

I didn't pay attention at the time.

About ten minutes later, Blair still hadn't come, and the classroom gradually filled with a buzzing of conversation. I kept my head down working on my own solution, following the textbook steps one by one, not daring to rush.

After a while, I smelled something—very sharp and pungent.

The girl two rows ahead—the beaker in front of her was smoking. Yellow-green, very thick, like something was rotting inside the beaker.

She noticed it too. She looked down at the beaker, her expression changing from confused to panicked. She reached out to grab the beaker, but someone next to her grabbed her arm and shouted, "Don't touch it."

Too late.

That yellow-green smoke poured out of the beaker, like a compressed spring suddenly released, exploding all at once. The cloud of smoke spread from the rim to the entire table in seconds, even reaching the surrounding area.

"Cough, cough, cough—"

"What is that—"

"Open the windows."

"Don't breathe. Don't breathe it in."

The classroom exploded into chaos. Some people were running toward the door, some were covering their mouths with their sleeves, some were shouting for the professor, some were shouting for help. Several chairs toppled over, reagent bottles rolled off tables and shattered on the floor, liquids of various colors spilling everywhere.

I covered my nose and mouth, head down, half-crouching as I shuffled toward the back door. My eyes couldn't open from the smoke, tears streaming down, everything blurry.

Soon, I heard a thud. Looking through the smoke, it was that girl. She was lying on the ground, motionless, face up, eyes closed, lips purple. Her skin color was wrong—grayish-white, like a stone statue.

"She's not moving."

"She's not breathing."

"Get the professor. Get Clementine."

"Clementine's not here. She left campus this afternoon."

Panic exploded like that cloud of smoke. More people pushed toward the door, some were crying, some were shouting "Move." People who got pushed down weren't being helped up.

When Blair burst in, the classroom was already in complete chaos. She had her wand in hand, waved it once, and a strong wind rushed in from the doorway, driving the yellow-green smoke toward the windows.

The smoke cleared somewhat, but there was still a lot lingering, floating in mid-air like ghosts.

She saw the girl lying on the ground.

Blair's expression changed. I had never seen that look on her face before.

She crouched next to the girl, lifted her eyelids, felt her pulse, then put her fingers under her nose to check for breathing. She walked to the front lectern, rummaging through drawers, through bookshelves, moving quickly, but each movement carried an increasingly obvious panic.

"Blair," someone asked. "What's wrong with her?"

Blair stood in front of the lectern, face pale. "The volatile solution was mixed incorrectly, producing a mutated corrosive toxic gas. But the antidote formula takes forty-nine hours to complete."

The classroom went quiet for a moment. Everyone understood what that meant—the girl wouldn't last that long. Her lips had already changed from purple to dark purple, the grayish-white on her skin was spreading upward, from neck to chin, from chin to cheeks.

"Isn't there any other way?" someone asked.

Blair shook her head.

No one spoke anymore.

I stood there, looking at the girl on the ground.

I didn't know her well. What was her name? I think it was Susie.

I looked down at my hands. My fingers were trembling—I thought of something.

Darian had said, "your energy might be related to fire veins." Principal Cedric said, "when your energy fully awakens." Ralph said, "tail feathers can be used medicinally to heal wounds."

My chest was burning.

Heat spreading from the deepest part outward, like something had been incubating in my chest cavity for a long time and was now about to break out of its shell.

I didn't know what to do, but my body moved before my brain did.

Energy surged up from the deepest part of my body, like a tide, like lava, like a spring that had been suppressed for so long suddenly finding a crack.

My skin began to glow. Light emanated from inside my entire body outward, golden-red, like burning coals. The light spread from my chest to my shoulders, from shoulders to arms, from arms to fingertips.

I heard someone shouting my name.

"Look at Olivia. What is that?"

"She's glowing."

"Her hands—look at her hands."

I looked down at my hands. My skin wasn't its original color anymore—it looked like lava about to solidify.

Something was unfurling behind me—feathers lighter, softer, more flame-like than wings.

Those golden-red feathers, growing from both sides of my shoulder blades, one by one, layer upon layer, like a cloak being woven. Each feather was glowing, edges golden, centers orange-red, like sunset.

I didn't feel afraid. I even felt like this was what my body was supposed to be—this was my real body.

I looked at my hands. Something was condensing in my palm. A feather, emerging from beneath my skin, complete, clean, golden-red light flowing through every fiber of it.

I shook a feather loose from my palm, and it fell in front of Blair. She looked at me, her eyes full of things—shock, confusion, even a little fear.

She looked down at the feather, thought for a moment, then with slightly trembling hands placed the feather into a beaker.

The instant the feather dropped in, the liquid in the beaker exploded into light. Golden-red light burst from the rim, shooting toward the ceiling, toward the entire classroom.

Everyone was enveloped by that light.

I felt the light pass through my body, like warm tide water, rising from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. Every pore was opening, each breath deeper than the last.

Gradually, the light faded.

In the beaker was a pool of crystal-clear water, like glass.

Blair carried that cup of clear water, crouched next to Susie, pried open her mouth, and poured it in.

Within seconds, the grayish-white on Susie's face began to recede. Her lips slowly returned to a normal pink color.

Her eyelids moved, and soon her eyes opened.

"I..." Her voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping glass. "What happened to me?"

No one answered her, because everyone was looking at me.

The entire classroom was very quiet. Uneasy gazes all fell on me, their eyes wide with disbelief at what they were seeing.

I stood in the middle of the classroom, the feathers on my back already retracted, my skin returned to its original color. But that place in my chest was still burning, like something that had just awakened.

"So you're the one who..."