Chapter 64: Obsession
Mira Hawthorne stood before the Soul Board Hall's towering mirror wall, her reflection warped in the polished obsidian surface. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on her crossed arms, but her eyes—sharp, stormy, and unblinking—remained fixed on one name:
Cassandra Ikemba – Rank 26
She exhaled, sharp and controlled. Around her, a few third and fourth-years exchanged glances but dared not interrupt.
It had been a week.
Seven days since Cassandra refused the duel.
Six since she denied her a second request.
Three since she wordlessly walked past Mira in the lecture courtyard.
And each day since then, Mira had thought of nothing else.
"Why her?" she muttered. "Why does she move like nothing matters? Why does she treat the board like it's beneath her?"
She remembered the Null Field from the ranker battle—the way Cassandra's domain drained the air, stripped energy from the battlefield like gravity swallowing light. No ceremony, no dramatics, no power flaunted. Just clinical domination. It gnawed at Mira.
Cassandra hadn't just beaten Rank 26. She dismantled him.
Without trying to be seen.
---
That night in her personal chamber, Mira reviewed Cassandra's combat footage again. A dozen times. Pausing, rewinding, analyzing the exact moment Null Field activated.
No color. No flares. No roar. Just… suppression.
A dead zone for Soul Energy.
"She doesn't fight like us," Mira whispered to herself. "She's not even trying to impress anyone. But she's dangerous."
She pulled out her tablet and hovered over the private duel request form. Again.
Then canceled it. Again.
"She's baiting me," she muttered, pacing now. "She knows I want to fight. She knows it's driving me mad—and she's using it to show she's untouchable."
She stared out her window toward the dormitory tower where Cassandra resided.
"This isn't over."
---
Over the next few days, Mira's obsession didn't wane—it evolved. She began asking around quietly, gathering whispers, stories, anything about Cassandra's progress.
"She trains at odd hours." "She spars with no audience." "She never talks about her rank." "She doesn't belong on the board—she's not political."
Mira noted it all. Every detail.
When she passed Karen, Jim, Marie, and Leslie in the halls, she watched them—watched their conversations, read their reactions. She saw how they orbited Cassandra in quiet awe. Not because Cassandra demanded it, but because she earned it.
"She's building momentum," Mira said, gripping the railing outside the Soul Arena. "And she doesn't care who sees."
But Mira cared.
And it was starting to show.
---
By the week's end, Mira's training became more aggressive. More frequent. She started targeting anyone above or below Cassandra's current rank.
One by one, she picked them off. Rank 24. 23. 21.
She was carving a path.
A warning.
If Cassandra wouldn't come to her...
She'd force her hand.
"Either she fights me..." Mira whispered, breath ragged between training sets, "...or she gets buried by the pressure."
Because obsession, once planted, doesn't wait.
It consumes.