Scott woke up before the alarm, but this time he didn't move right away.
He stayed still for a few seconds, letting the quiet settle, measuring it instead of reacting. His breathing was steady—deeper than it used to be. His body felt… aligned. Not just rested, but tuned.
The bite had finished what it started.
I sat up slowly, checking my side out of habit. Smooth skin. No wound. No scar.
But that wasn't what mattered anymore.
It was everything else.
I stood, rolling my shoulders once, testing range, tension, response. Nothing resisted. Even small movements felt precise, controlled in a way they hadn't before.
That was enough.
I let the system surface.
...
[Proficiency System — Status]
Strength: 16.8–– Muscle Efficiency: 5.6–– Grip Strength: 5.3–– Explosive Force: 5.9
Speed: 17.4–– Movement Efficiency: 4.1–– Balance: 3.9–– Reaction Speed: 5.1–– Hand-Eye Coordination: 4.3
Endurance: 16.2–– Pain Resistance: 4.8–– Recovery Efficiency: 5.6–– Stamina Control: 5.8
Control: 15.6–– Sensory Filtering: 3.8–– Body Awareness: 4.1–– Emotional Regulation: 3.6–– Perception: 4.1
...
I read through it once, then dismissed it.
"Good. Stable."
That mattered more than higher numbers.
Melissa barely looked up when I walked into the kitchen.
"You're up early."
I grabbed an apple, leaning against the counter. "Didn't feel like sleeping in."
She paused, then looked at me properly this time.
"…you look better."
I shrugged. "I feel better."
She studied me for another second, then nodded. "Good. Try to keep that going."
"I will."
The school hallway felt different.
Not louder—clearer.
I slowed slightly as I walked in, letting my senses adjust instead of forcing everything down. Conversations didn't blur anymore—they separated. Footsteps had direction. Even the scrape of lockers carried distance.
I focused on one thing at a time, letting the rest fade naturally.
[Sensory Filtering +0.04]
"Dude!"
Stiles dropped into step beside me, already mid-sentence. "You didn't answer your phone last night. You just disappeared. Like—full horror movie vanish."
I didn't look at him immediately. "Cops showed up. I wasn't sticking around."
"Yeah, okay, fair," he said quickly. "But here's the part you missed—they didn't find the other half."
I glanced at him. "So it's still missing."
"Exactly," Stiles said, lowering his voice. "Which means something took it."
I nodded once. "Yeah."
He frowned. "That's it? That's your reaction?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to say something like 'holy crap, that's terrifying.'"
I shrugged. "Panicking won't help."
Stiles stopped for half a second, staring at me.
"…who are you and what have you done with Scott?"
I almost smiled. "Still me."
"Debatable."
Class settled slower than usual.
I took my seat, not focusing on the teacher yet, but on the room. Who was paying attention. Who wasn't. Who reacted to the mention of the body.
Patterns.
Then the door opened.
Allison.
She stepped in slightly unsure, scanning the room before the teacher directed her forward. It wasn't obvious—just enough hesitation to mark her as new.
But that wasn't what caught my attention.
It was her balance. The way she carried herself.
Subtle.
I looked away before it became noticeable.
Stiles leaned toward me. "Okay—new girl."
"Yeah."
"That's all you've got?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to say something reckless. Preferably involving you embarrassing yourself."
I shook my head. "I'll pass."
"You always pass."
The bell rang, breaking the room into motion.
In the hallway between classes, Allison was adjusting her bag when Lydia appeared beside her like she'd always been there.
"I love your jacket," Lydia said casually, but with the kind of confidence that made it sound like a decision.
Allison blinked. "Oh—thanks."
"Where'd you get it?" Lydia asked, already reaching for the sleeve.
"LA," Allison said with a small smile. "My mom worked at a boutique there."
Lydia tilted her head, studying her. "Interesting."
It didn't sound like she meant the jacket.
Behind them, Jackson rolled his eyes and leaned in to kiss Lydia. "You're interrogating her over a jacket now?"
Lydia kissed him back without looking away from Allison. "I'm being friendly."
Then she smiled again.
Stiles watched the whole thing.
"See that?" he muttered. "Beautiful people move in packs."
I didn't respond.
But I noticed.
Halfway through class, a pen slipped from the desk behind me.
It wasn't the sound that caught my attention.
It was the shift before it fell.
I turned instinctively, my hand already moving.
I caught it mid-air.
Clean. No wasted motion.
For a split second, everything lined up—distance, timing, angle.
Then it was over.
I placed the pen back without looking.
No one reacted.
But the system did.
[Reaction Speed +0.06][Hand-Eye Coordination +0.05]
→ Speed: 17.4 → 17.5
I leaned back slightly, processing it.
That shouldn't have been that easy.
But it was.
"Okay, no—you're definitely acting weird now," Stiles said, narrowing his eyes.
I glanced at him. "Why?"
"You didn't even look when you caught that."
"Lucky," I said.
Even I didn't fully believe that.
Stiles kept staring. "Yeah. Sure."
The rest of class passed normally.
Or at least, it looked normal.
For me, everything had shifted.
When the bell rang, the room broke into motion. I grabbed my bag without rushing.
Stiles fell into step beside me again.
"Alright, I've got a theory."
"That was fast."
"I work quickly under pressure," he said. "You, dead body, weird reflexes—it's all connected."
I raised an eyebrow. "That's not a theory. That's a guess."
"Give me time," Stiles said. "I'll figure it out."
I almost smiled.
We headed toward the field.
Voices carried further now. Movement felt sharper. The world wasn't overwhelming—it was just… clearer.
I adjusted without breaking stride.
[Body Awareness +0.03]
Coach's voice cut across the field before we even reached it.
"Move! Move! Move!"
I stopped at the edge for a second, watching.
Players running drills. Jackson already out there. Fast, aggressive, competitive.
Normal.
Stiles glanced at me. "You ready for this?"
I looked at the field.
Then back at him.
"Yeah."
Because this—
This is where things actually start changing.
I stepped forward.
And for the first time, I wasn't walking into this blind.
I was stepping in prepared.
To be continued…