The sun rose like nothing had happened.
Birds chirped outside Titan Hall, students moved in and out of buildings, and the campus looked fresh clean, polished, almost too peaceful. But inside Damon's chest, a storm had already begun.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at the claw necklace. It felt heavier this morning. Like it had absorbed something from the night before.
Across the room, Caleb tied a band around his dreadlocks and pulled on a hoodie like everything was normal.
"You're still thinking about it?" he asked without looking.
"What do you think?" Damon muttered. "I saw… something. You saw it too. And you're acting like we just saw a rat outside the hostel."
Caleb zipped his hoodie. "If you panic every time you see one of them, you won't survive here. Trust me. I've seen worse."
Damon stood, frustrated. "I don't even know what I am yet. You keep talking like I'm part of this, but you're not telling me what 'this' is."
Caleb finally turned. "Because some truths unlock things you can't close again. And you're not ready. Not yet."
Before Damon could respond, someone knocked.
It was a student in uniform. "You're Damon Jack?" the boy asked. "Faculty office wants to see you. Orientation processing."
Damon nodded, and the boy left.
"Guess I'm already being watched," he muttered.
"Yeah," Caleb said under his breath, "but not by the faculty."
The administrative building was huge, lined with marble floors and glowing with white light. Damon sat quietly, waiting for his name to be called. Students filled the hall with nervous chatter, but his mind wasn't in the room. His ears twitched at every sound, like his body had become more sensitive overnight.
Then he noticed someone watching him.
A girl, seated on the far end of the hall. Pale skin. Auburn braids. She didn't blink. She didn't smile. She just stared.
Their eyes met.
She mouthed something.
"They're inside."
Damon blinked and she was gone.
He stood up, heart racing, scanning the room. Nothing. She had vanished, like smoke.
Before he could make sense of it, his name was called.
Later that afternoon, Damon walked across campus alone, trying to clear his head. Students laughed in clusters, sat on grass, played music. But to him, it all felt too… perfect.
He paused by a tall iron gate behind the science building. A sign hung crookedly on it:
"Forest Restricted. No entry beyond this point."
The same forest from last night.
He stepped closer.
Something tugged at him. Not a sound, not a voice. A pull from deep in his chest. Like something inside the forest knew him.
"Damon," a voice called.
He turned.
It was a professor tall, broad-shouldered man in a deep brown coat. Mr. Pam. Literature department.
"You're new," the man said, his eyes unreadable. "Keep away from the forest. Especially during full moons."
Damon's stomach dropped.
"How did you…?"
But Mr. Pam was already walking away, his footsteps silent despite the dry leaves beneath his shoes.