The cafeteria was empty.
Chairs were flipped upside down on tables, sunlight slanting through the high windows in pale stripes.
The silence felt wrong—too open, too exposed.
Mira dragged Eliot between the rows without slowing, her grip tight around his sleeve.
"Why are we here?" Eliot asked, irritation slipping through despite himself. His voice echoed faintly. "You didn't have to pull me like that."
Mira stopped so suddenly he almost collided with her.
"Because no one comes here anymore," she said sharply. "And because you need to listen."
Eliot stiffened.
She set her bag down on a table and pulled out a slim device—smaller than a laptop, darker, humming faintly. With a practiced motion, she tapped it.
The air above the table shimmered.
A blue system unfolded into the space between them—transparent, floating, alive.
Lines of data slid past each other, rotating strands of DNA glowing faintly like constellations.
Eliot's breath caught. "That's… holographic."
"Focus," Mira snapped.
She swiped her hand through the projection, isolating a section.
A new image flickered—blurred figures, distorted by static.
"Yesterday," she said, voice lowering, "a wolf escaped after being experimented on. They caught him later."
Eliot's hands curled into fists. "Then why drag me here?"
"Because that wasn't what mattered."
She zoomed in again.
The data pulsed brighter.
"This," Mira said, pointing, "is different. When my father's team investigated the area, they found traces of something he's been searching for his entire life."
She looked straight at Eliot now.
"The princess."
Eliot's heart slammed painfully against his ribs.
"They found her DNA," Mira continued. "Not clean. Not contained. But recent."
Eliot swallowed. "You said… you saw her?"
"Not clearly," Mira admitted. "But we saw two humans."
The hologram shifted, briefly showing two vague silhouettes beside the wolf-shape before dissolving into static again.
Eliot stared at it, his mind racing.
He said nothing.
Not a word.
Mira turned the system off with a sharp gesture. The cafeteria felt colder without the blue glow.
"I called you here because I need your help finding them," she said. "Those two humans."
Eliot forced himself to meet her gaze. "Why me?"
"Because you care," she said flatly. "And because you understand what happens when powerful people stop seeing lives as lives."
A pause.
Then her voice hardened.
"If I don't find them first," she said quietly, "my father will."
Eliot's stomach dropped.
"And if he does," Mira continued, unblinking, "they'll be dead before anyone even knows they were involved."
Silence slammed down between them.
Eliot's throat felt tight.
He nodded slowly, carefully—like any sudden movement might shatter something.
"I… understand," he said.
"Good." Mira packed the device away. "Think fast. Time isn't on our side."
Eliot stepped back, giving a small, stiff nod. "I need air. Just for a second."
Mira waved him off. "Don't disappear."
He turned and walked out of the cafeteria, heart pounding, legs shaking now that he was alone.
She watched him go.
Then Mira reopened her device—eyes narrowing as the screen reflected cold blue light across her face.
Eliot's hands tightened into fists, jaw rigid.
He had tried to stay quiet, to ignore Lunara's piercing golden eyes, but the tension in his chest finally snapped.
"Who… who were you with yesterday?" he demanded, voice sharper than he intended.
The room froze.
Even Lunara's ears twitched in surprise.
Theo's glasses slid down his nose.
Leon straightened, eyes narrowing. Rex blinked, half-annoyed, half-alarmed.
Lunara blinked at him, silent for a moment, then a small, sharp laugh escaped her.
"About time you asked," she said, tail flicking.
''WHY ask that though?...You clearly know who I was with yesterday.''
Eliot ran a hand through his curls, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.
He hadn't ever been like this—never raised his voice, never snapped—but the weight of everything, of Mira, of the princess, of what might happen, pushed him over the edge.
Theo immediately leaned forward, voice soft but firm. "Eliot, hey—calm down, breathe. Don't let your frustration make you act rash."
Eliot's chest heaved.
"I'm… I just…" He swallowed hard, eyes flicking to Lunara. "I can't just sit back. I need to know. I need to understand what's happening—who was involved!"
Lunara's golden eyes glimmered, ears perking up.
"And now you do. That's enough for me." She let her tail relax slightly.
The others exchanged glances.
Leon's jaw tightened, then he muttered, "Huh. Eliot… snapping. Never thought I'd see the day."
Rex rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. "Yeah, tense Eliot is… terrifying in a cute, glasses-wearing way."
Theo rubbed his temples, sighing. "Okay, that's enough theatrics. Eliot, I get it—you're worried—but losing your head won't help anyone. Talk to us. We'll help you sort this out."
Eliot exhaled shakily, nodding, trying to force himself to calm.
"I… I just… Mira said she saw the princess with two humans. That's all I know… but it matters. I can't ignore it."
Lunara leaned back, her coat rustling, beanie tilting slightly.
"Humans always complicate things," she muttered.
But there was no bite in her tone now—just… observation.
Leon snorted. "Well, Eliot's officially scared, tense, and now dramatic. I think we hit a record."
Rex chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I'm just glad he finally spoke up instead of bottling it."
Theo adjusted his glasses, his voice gentle. "Okay… now that we know where Eliot's head is, let's plan. No more snapping, okay?"
Eliot nodded, exhaling slowly, still tense but steadier. "Okay… I'll try."
Lunara's tail flicked lazily, but her golden eyes remained sharp. "Try. Good. But this… situation… it's far from simple."
The room was quiet for a beat, tension easing slightly, but the air still hummed with the weight of what had been revealed—and what still needed to be done.
-
The girls' bathroom was too bright.
Too clean. Too loud.
Lunara hesitated at the door, fingers tightening around the edge of her coat. She couldn't follow the boys in—humans had rules about that—so she stepped inside alone, tail carefully tucked, beanie pulled low.
Three girls stood near the mirrors.
They all stopped talking at the same time.
One of them had perfectly curled hair and way too much confidence. Another leaned against the sinks, chewing gum loudly.
The third was scrolling on her phone, bored until she looked up.
Their eyes went straight to Lunara's coat.
"…Why is she dressed like that?" Curly-hair whispered, not even trying to be quiet.
"Yeah," gum-girl laughed. "What are you hiding, mystery girl?"
Lunara ignored them and walked toward a stall.
Bad move. For them.
Curly-hair stepped closer.
"Hey, are you even allowed to wear that thing in school?" She reached out—fast—fingers brushing the edge of Lunara's beanie. "Maybe we should—"
Lunara spun.
Her hand snapped out, grabbing a fistful of the girl's hair—not yanking hard enough to hurt badly, just enough to make a point.
"Touch me again," Lunara said calmly, "and I will forget I am pretending to be civilized."
The bathroom went silent.
Gum-girl scoffed nervously. "Wow, psycho much—"
Lunara kicked her shin. Not brutal. Just precise.
Gum-girl yelped and hopped back, nearly slipping.
The third girl dropped her phone.
Lunara's eyes lifted then—golden, sharp, glowing just enough to be wrong. Not human. Not normal.
"You laugh," Lunara continued, voice low and cold, "but you have no manners, no awareness, and very fragile confidence."
She released the first girl's hair. The girl stumbled back, wide-eyed.
"I do not hide," Lunara added. "I restrain myself."
The glow in her eyes flickered once more.
The three girls froze.
Lunara adjusted her coat, pulled her beanie back into place, and walked past them toward the door.
At the threshold, she paused and glanced over her shoulder.
"Next time," she said lightly, "choose someone weaker."
Then she left.
Behind her, the bathroom stayed completely silent—three humans staring at the door, suddenly very aware that some things were better left alone.