Black Coin

VIII

[Chapter 8: The Principal’s Summon]

Seven staggered through the narrow, and trash-filled alleyways, which was behind the main street. Huff... wheeze... cough. Every muscle in his body felt like it was being poked by a very hot needles. His vision kept blurring, and turning the world into a messy smudge of grey and neon. He leaned his shoulder against a cold brick wall and almost slid down into the dirt. Thud.

"I need to... get back to the bus," he whispered to himself, his voice cracking. He looked more like a ghost in black armor.

With a final, and desperate thought, he willed the armor to go away. Vrummm. The black metal didn't just fall off; it dissolved into a fine, and swirling purple-black dust. The dust danced in the air for a second before separating into two parts one was shadow purple while the other was plain black with some silver or worth dust in it. And the shadow purple dust was being sucked back into the center of the black coin that was hanging from his neck. Slurp. While the rest dust went into his arm and a dark tattoo of a wolf fang formed there Seven felt a wave of nausea hit him. Gag. Without the armor's support, his injuries felt ten times worse. His school uniform was a disaster— it was torn, bloody, and smelling like ozone and alien guts. He grabbed a discarded, dirty jacket from a nearby bin and threw it over his shoulders to hide the worst of it.

He moved like a zombie, while circling back toward where the bus had been left. The crowd was still focused on the crater, shouting and pointing at the dead Rakshasa. Nobody was looking at the skinny kid limping through the shadows. Seven crawled back onto the bus through the open door and collapsed into his seat near the back. He pulled the jacket tight around him, slumped against the window, and blacked out almost instantly. Zzzzz.

A long time passed. The sounds of sirens and shouting eventually faded over.

"Seven? Seven, wake up!"

Seven’s eyes snapped open. Gasp! Miss Bernice was now standing over him, her face pale but her eyes full of relief. Behind her, the other students were filing back onto the bus. They were all talking at once, their voices were a chaotic mess of excitement.

"Is he okay?" Mr. Han asked, while peeking over Bernice’s shoulder.

"He’s exhausted," Bernice said to him, her voice sounded softer than usual. "And he’s hurt. Look at these wounds." She saw the blood on his shoulder and the additional bruises on his face.

The bus started up with a low hum. Vruuuuuum. The driver took a different route, steering clear of the wreckage and the military drones that were beginning to swarm the area.

"Did you guys see 'Black'?" Kael was shouting to anyone who would listen. "He was like Boom! and then the alien went Snap! It was the coolest thing ever!"

"I have the whole livestream saved," Jax bragged out, while holding up his cam-brace. "I'm going to watch it a thousand times over. That guy is a legend. And we had the guts to watch the fight Unlike some people who slept through the whole thing." He shot a mean look at Seven, but Seven didn't even have the strength to flip him off this time.

The bus finally pulled into the school gates. Miss Bernice didn't let Seven go straight to class. She and Mr. Han helped him walk straight to the infirmary. The room was white and smelled like sharp chemicals. Sniff. A robot nurse hovered over him, while cleaning his wounds with gentle, blue lasers and sticking plasters over the deeper cuts. Seven lay there, just staring at the ceiling, and feeling the dull throb of his body.

He must have fallen asleep again, because when he woke up, the sun was two hours away from setting. He was wrapped in bandages. Ouch. "You're awake," Mr. Han said, he was sitting in a chair by the bed. "Good. Miss Bernice and I have been waiting. The Principal wants to see you in his office. Right now."

Seven’s stomach instantly dropped. Gulp. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. "Did they see me?" he thought to himself frantically. "Did someone record me taking off the armor?" He stood up on shaky legs. His mind was racing. If the government or the school figured out the black coin was the source of his power, they would surely take it away for studies. They’d call it "unregistered technology" or "alien contraband." Without that coin, he was just a kid with no talent. He would never be able to grow strong. Neither would he ever be able to walk into the heavens and punch those arrogant gods in their faces for what they did to him.

"Is... is everything okay, sir?" Seven asked the teachers, while trying to sound innocent. Squeak.

"Just follow us, Seven," Mr. Han said to him, with his face unreadable.

They walked through the quiet hallways. Clack. Clack. Clack. Every step felt like he was walking toward a gallows. Seven’s hand went to his chest, feeling the coin under his bandages. It was cold. And Silent.

"I need a plan," Seven thought to himself, his heart pounding like a war drum. "If they ask about the Spirit Dimension, what do I say? If they ask why I’m so injured, what's the lie? I have to protect the coin. No matter what."

They stopped in front of a massive, and heavy wooden door. A gold sign on the front read: PRINCIPAL VANCE.

Mr. Han knocked. Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Enter," a deep, and booming voice replied.

Seven took a deep breath, then braced himself, and stepped inside.

.....