Nephilim: Genesis

Chapter 5: The Gravity of the Situation

The training room was eerily quiet during our free period. Most of the students used this time to chill, hit the cafeteria, or sneak in a nap, but I decided to meet up with Laten to squeeze in some extra practice. The room was massive, with sleek metal walls and padded floors that were designed to take the brunt of some serious supernatural abilities. Various equipment lined the walls—weights, dummies, target boards—each one built to withstand what the Nephilim students could throw at them. Mr. Fredrick's office was off to the side, empty right now, giving us the perfect opportunity to train without any interruptions.

Laten stood across from me, adjusting the straps on his sparring gloves, his face as serious as always. The dude rarely showed emotion, but he was precise—focused. I threw a few half-hearted jabs at the air, trying to loosen up.

"So... have you talked to Tru yet?" I asked, smirking as I caught his expression shift ever so slightly.

"No. Not yet," Laten replied, his voice flat, but I could tell he was thinking hard about it. He bounced lightly on his feet, throwing a quick jab at the punching bag nearby. "I've been... analyzing potential outcomes."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Dude, you can't 'analyze' everything. It's not a science experiment. Just talk to her. She likes you."

"I'm not certain of that," he said, narrowing his eyes at me like I'd just suggested something impossible. "There are factors to consider. For example, if I confess my feelings and she rejects me, it could lead to an awkward dynamic."

I tossed him a water bottle. "You overthink everything. Just be yourself. I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

Laten took a long swig of water, then glanced over at me. "What if I inadvertently say something inappropriate?"

"You're already weird, so don't worry about it," I laughed, giving him a playful shove. "Just... maybe avoid the whole 'erection' conversation. That's definitely a no-go."

Laten stared blankly for a second, then nodded. "Noted."

We started out with a few simple drills, and then Laten started to show me some really cool combat skills suited for my skill level. Laten was a phenomenal fighter, and super strong. He stood in front of me, his serious expression as constant as ever. We were both drenched in sweat, the result of a solid hour of training. He adjusted his stance and cracked his neck, but I could tell he was distracted.

"Daxton," he said, his voice steady, "why haven't you told Miss Harriett about your visions?"

I hesitated, wiping sweat from my forehead. "What do you mean?"

"You've been having premonitions about our future... about life and death. Miss Harriett is the headmaster of AZ Academy. She could help."

I sighed, throwing a half-hearted jab at the punching bag. "I don't know, man. It's not that simple. What if she can't help? And besides, we don't know who's behind everything. I can't trust just anyone. I've learned this reading a bunch of comics. The villains are usually the people you least expect. Not that I don't trust Miss Harriet personally, I just feel like it's smart to keep the information to ourselves.."

Laten tilted his head, considering my words. "Miss Harriett is the most powerful Nephilim at this academy. If anyone could do something about your visions, it's her."

"I just... I need to figure things out on my own first," I said, shaking my head. "I'll talk to her when the time's right." , still half-smiling, when I caught sight of Asani and Toriq walking over from the gym entrance. Of course. Just when I thought we could end the day on a chill note.

Asani had that arrogant swagger to him, the kind that told you he was looking for trouble. His sharp chestnut eyes zeroed in on me immediately, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Toriq, like always, was cool and calm, just a step behind him.