Astral Knight

Dylan's heart was still hammering when he felt the hand clamp down on his shoulder. For a split second, he was back in the vents, crawling through darkness, the woman's icy stare burning into his back. His pulse spiked, cold sweat prickling his neck *She found me. She knows* until the scent of Marcus's obnoxiously sweet cologne hit him. *Axe body spray and regret*.

"The hell, Marcus?" Dylan jerked away, shrugging off his friend's grip with more force than necessary.

Marcus grinned, unfazed, his hands raised in mock surrender. "Chill, dude. You look like you saw a ghost. Or, like, three ghosts."

"Maybe don't sneak up on people," Dylan snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. He straightened his hoodie, willing his hands to stop trembling.

Marcus tilted his head, studying Dylan with a mix of amusement and concern. His glasses slid down his nose, the same pair he'd had since freshman year thick-rimmed, slightly crooked, the left lens cracked... I won't say but scratched a little from the time he'd tried to "bench press a textbook" in the locker room. "Whoa. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the apocalypse. What's your deal?"

"Nothing," Dylan muttered, avoiding his friend's gaze. The woman's face flashed in his mind again her sharp glasses, the way she'd looked at him like he was a specimen under a microscope. *She was here. She talked to Heyes. Why?*

Marcus snorted. "Yeah, 'nothing.' You're doing that thing where you get all…" He flapped his hands vaguely. "…*Dylan* about stuff. Spill."

"Drop it," Dylan said, shouldering past him toward the lockers. The hallway was filling up now, students slamming metal doors and shouting over each other, but the noise felt distant, muffled.

Marcus kept pace, his long legs easily matching Dylan's hurried steps. "C'mon, man. Is this about last night? Because I gotta say, you're acting weirder than usual, and that's a high bar."

Dylan froze. Last night. The word punched through the fog in his brain, sharp and sudden. The vents. The guards. The file labeled *Project Phoenix*. The memories rushed back in jagged fragments, and he spun to face Marcus, his voice low. "You *left* me. You just ran."

Marcus blinked, his grin faltering. "Left you? Dude, I thought you were right behind me! One minute you're there, the next…" He mimed an explosion with his hands. "Poof. Gone. Like a ninja. A really slow ninja."

"Slow? I almost died!"

"But you didn't! And look..." Marcus spread his arms wide, nearly smacking a freshman carrying a tuba. "..here you are! Alive! Mostly."

Dylan glared at him. Marcus's nonchalance was a live wire in his already frayed nerves. "How'd you even get out?"

"Easy. Ran like hell, hopped the fence, stole a bike."

"You *stole* a bike?"

"Borrowed," Marcus corrected. "Left it outside the diner. Probably."

*Fuck this crazy nigga even forgot his jeep. Who are you to think he won't forget you. Shit!* Dylan realised how stupid it was to follow this dude headfirst into NovaGen, Aunt Marla was so not hearing about it.

"That's not the point!" Dylan hissed, stepping closer. A group of cheerleaders side-eyed them as they passed, but he didn't care. "What about the file? The one we found?"

Marcus's smile faded. He glanced around, lowering his voice. "Which part? The 'Project Phoenix' stuff? The diagrams that looked like… I dunno, mutant hamsters?"

"You didn't take it?"

"Take it? Dude, we were being chased by RoboCop's angrier cousin! I wasn't exactly packing for a document heist."

Dylan's stomach dropped. The file—the answers, the proof—was still there. In Novagen's hands. And now the woman from the lab was *here*, talking to the principal, staring at him like she knew…

*Knew what?*

"Anyway," Marcus said, clapping him on the back, "how'd you get out? You were wheezing like a broken kazoo last I saw you."

Dylan opened his mouth, then froze.

*How* did he get out?

The memories blurred at the edges. Crawling through the vent. The claustrophobic darkness. The emergency exit. Running, running, running then… nothing. A blank space. He'd woken up in his bed, his clothes streaked with dust, his lungs raw, but no recollection of getting home.

"I… walked," Dylan said slowly, the lie brittle on his tongue.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Walked? From Novagen? That's, like, five miles."

"I took shortcuts."

"Through the woods? At night? With your…" Marcus gestured vaguely at Dylan's chest. "…*lungs*?"

Dylan's jaw tightened. "Yeah."

"And you didn't, I dunno, collapse? Get eaten by a bear? Abducted by aliens?"

"No," Dylan snapped, but the word sounded hollow, even to him.

Marcus leaned in, his playful demeanor slipping. "Seriously, dude. How'd you get back?"

Dylan's throat went dry. The question hung between them, sharp and unignorable. He replayed the hazy fragments again the vent, the exit door, the cold night air but after that, there was only static. No streets, no lights, no front door. Just… a gap.

*Did I black out? Did someone… help me?*

The bell rang, jolting him back to the present. Students surged toward classrooms, but Dylan stood rooted to the spot, his mind racing.

Marcus stared at him, his usual smirk replaced by something darker. "You don't remember, do you?"