Paradoxical Convergence (Book 1)

Chapter 10: The fog beckons

The air was thick—so thick that Cecile felt like it was pressing down on his chest, making each breath a struggle. The fog curled through the school grounds, dense and suffocating, like some sentient thing that clung to the buildings and trees, making every step feel like a descent into some forgotten nightmare. His senses were heightened, the weight of the balisong in his hand a cold reminder of what he was here to do. Yet, with each passing moment, his nerves clawed at him, twisting tighter, the tension building like a coiled spring ready to snap.

His thoughts swirled in a chaotic blur of what-ifs. What if the entity was more powerful than they'd anticipated? What if it struck before they could react? What if he was too slow—too weak? What if—

"Calm down, Cecile," Aria's voice sliced through his thoughts like the edge of her cane sword, sharp and unrelenting. She didn't even look at him as she spoke, her gaze fixed ahead on the school gates, where the fog was thickest. "You're thinking yourself into an early grave."

Cecile blinked, his heart still pounding in his chest. How could she be so calm? The tension was gnawing at him, fraying the edges of his nerves, and yet there she stood, perfectly composed, her hands casually resting on her sword-cane as though they were just out for an evening stroll.

"How can I calm down, Aria?" Cecile muttered, his voice a low hiss. "We don't even know what we're facing. It could be too much for us to handle."

Aria didn't even blink. "Worrying about it won't change the fact that we're here, and something is going to show itself soon. So unless you plan on dying of a panic attack before that happens, I suggest you stop imagining every possible scenario where we lose." Her voice was cold, logical, almost mechanical in its delivery.

Cecile gritted his teeth, his fingers tightening around the balisong's handle. "Sorry, Aria. I just—"

"Being nervous is fine. Letting it get you killed isn't," Aria interrupted, finally turning to look at him. Her expression was blank, but her eyes held a strange, almost clinical focus. "If you go into this like you are now, jittery and second-guessing yourself, that nervousness will be your own undoing. You want to die because of a stupid mistake?"

Cecile swallowed, shaking his head. "No."

"Good." Aria gave a curt nod and turned back to the fog. "Then focus. The only thing that matters is what's right in front of you."

Cecile forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to settle the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. Aria was right, as always—cold and unsympathetic, but right. He couldn't afford to let his nerves take over. This wasn't like before with the poltergeist. They weren't dealing with something straightforward. Tonight, they faced an unknown enemy lurking within the thick veil of fog. His stomach twisted again, but he forced himself to push the feeling down.

"It's time to bait out the entity," Aria said, her voice as steady as ever. "I'll be the bait."

"What?" Cecile's eyes widened in disbelief. "You're going to what?"

Aria glanced over her shoulder, her lips curling into the faintest trace of a smirk. "Don't look so surprised. I'm faster than you, and I know how to handle myself. When the thing shows itself, you strike. You know, like a proper ambush."

Cecile's grip on his balisong tightened, his pulse quickening again. "And what happens if the plan goes wrong?"

Aria's expression remained neutral. "Then we improvise. But I don't intend for it to go wrong." She turned back to the fog, already stepping toward the school's outer gate, her movements deliberate, measured. "Just be ready."

Cecile wanted to argue, but the words died in his throat as Aria disappeared into the swirling mist. He could barely make out her figure through the dense fog, her white hair and dark uniform blending into the pale grayness that clung to the air. His heart hammered against his ribs as he crouched low, his breath coming in shallow bursts. He had to trust her. He had no choice.