The Twilight Institute

Chapter 2: Sorting Groups

I tread silently through the corridors of Structure Twenty-four, my designated dormitory. My mind remains attuned to the peculiar clicking noises and subtle signals of the unseen inhabitants of this place.

My awareness tingles as I sense the presence trailing behind me. Her identity, marked by distinctive hair, does not escape me. Yet, I proceed without confrontation, ascending the seemingly endless stairs to my dormitory on the forty-fifth floor.

The silence of my surroundings heightens my sensitivity. Human attempts at masking sounds fall short, allowing me to focus on the peculiar auditory cues that elude others.

The persistent follower reveals herself in the hallway outside my dormitory, breaking the silence with an annoying chuckle. A stern request to cease stalking yields only more silence, prompting me to turn and face her.

Unexpectedly, she is already too close, her eyes fixed on me with unwavering intensity. My attempt to initiate dialogue is met with a sudden, obnoxious shout in my face.

"Hello there!"

I take two steps back away from her as she shouts in my face.

"Is personal space a foreign concept to you?"

"Eh? Everyone loves to be near me. I am the incarnation of perfection!"

Are humans usually this delusional?

I can not help but wonder as I observe her bizarre behaviour. Her confident demeanour and strange statement make me question if she is indeed human. Perhaps she belongs to a different species altogether, one that possesses a distorted sense of reality.

She seems unfazed by my behaviour and continues to pervert my personal space.

I can feel my irritation escalating as she shows no indications of backing off. Argumentation with her will be a fruitless endeavour.

"You are more of an abundance of irritation."

She gasps in shock. I can already feel her frustration as she prepares to lash out at me.

"How dare you! Irritation? Me? Ha! What a joke."

"Why are you even following me?"

Her presence is becoming intolerable, and her complete lack of self-awareness is infuriating.

"I have no desire to engage with you or entertain your delusions of grandeur. Therefore, I suggest you find someone else to annoy."

I know that my stern words will not make her realise the boundaries she is overstepping, but it is worth a try.

"Well, you look strong. So I wanna fight you to prove my strength to be the best and—"

"I am sorry, but that is not going to happen."

I interrupt her before she can finish her sentence.

"I have no interest in engaging in any kind of physical altercation with you."

She looks taken aback, her face twisting with a mix of surprise and frustration.

"You think you're better than me, don't you?"

"It is not about being better. It is about respecting personal space and accepting that not everyone wants to be a part of your idiocies."

"Hah?! Have you forgotten? I am the incarnation of perfection, the queen of this school! I can easily defeat you without trying."

"Am I supposed to care?"

Her mouth opens in pure shock. She struggles to find a response, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.