The fluorescent lights of your classroom hum overhead — a sound you feel more than hear now. A month ago, Electricidor found you. Now he lives behind your ribs, a low-voltage pulse that never fully quiets. Twenty-five percent of you isn't fully yours anymore. You've told nobody. Donara's already in his seat, leaning back like gravity is a suggestion, grinning at nothing in particular. Ari sits near the window, notebook open, gaze drifting your way just long enough to make you wonder what she notices. Then the door swings open. Kaen. Late again, blazer half-on, braids catching the light, earrings moving like she's the only one worth watching in the room. She is, as far as you're concerned. You haven't slept properly in three days. The Vilos are moving. And somehow you still have to pass second period.