Roy opened the door to his private Class A room, far larger than he felt he deserved.

  He walked inside. He looked at his burned hand. His face looked like someone had taken the light from it. Just past the entrance, the restroom door stood to his right, while the rest of the living space opened up ahead. To his left, the bed was tucked against the wall, and straight in front of him sat a heavy desk positioned next to a large window. A television occupied the wall to the right, completing the room's high-end feel.

  Roy paused by the bed. The window behind let sunlight in, casting a dark silhouette over the sheets as he reached out to touch them.

  His fingers brushed the fabric.

  The world shifted.

  Roy looked up to see a shadowy red figure in front of him. He wasn't in his room anymore. They were standing on a staircase, both facing each other in a weird place that looked like it came from a dream.

  On the right there was a sun. On the left, a moon. In the middle, a piece of land floating in the air. On it, two mountains, some trees, and the ground, mostly green. From the piece of land there were two staircases: one to the moon and the other to the sun.

  Below, covering all that the eye could see, was a closed iron gate. In the middle of it, a circle where there was a place for a key.

  The Ghost crossed his arms.

  "What made you come here? Want to finally surrender?" the Ghost said with a smirk.

  Roy looked him in the eyes.

  "I've heard your voice a lot these days. And how dare you use 'us' while talking to me."

  The Ghost got closer to Roy and said directly into Roy's ear,

  "Well, of course. We are the same person after all. And how could I see an opportunity and not take it?"

  Roy grabbed him by the throat and made him face him.

  "You won't have any more opportunities from now on."

  "And how would you do that?" the Ghost said with a smirk, until he realized.

  "Wait, you will not do this. You know the consequences."

  But it was already set.

  Roy raised the Ghost up and jumped from the staircase toward the iron gate while the Ghost was trying to burn him but couldn't.

  "Stop. Stop. I SAID FUCKING STOP."

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  Roy slammed the Ghost into the gate. At that moment, the Ghost's mana began going out of him and got absorbed by the gate.

  The Ghost stared at Roy, whose eyes were now dead.

  "You will pay for this."

  But Roy didn't move an inch.

  After some time, the Ghost's powers were mostly absorbed by the gate, and Roy let him go. At the same moment Roy disappeared from the place.

  The Ghost was breathing hard when another ghost, an all-black one, different from the black and red one, approached him.

  "You had it coming. You were too direct this time, even for you."

  The red Ghost looked at the black one.

  "Do not talk to me, coward."

  "I am no coward. I am just smarter than you, pyromaniac. And I don't want to talk to you. I came to say: don't do another stupid thing. You're making my life harder than it should be."

  But he wasn't listening to the black ghost. He was thinking, 'He didn't seal me behind the gate. That means I have the best opportunity ever.'

  "And he has another reason for not putting you behind the gate, so don't get any dumb ideas," the black ghost said and left, leaving the red one alone, who didn't listen to anything he said.

  ****

  In Roy's room.

  Roy got up from the bed and walked toward the window. The moonlight coming from it landed on his face. He reached it, looked outside for a second,

  then sat under it.

  He brought his two hands in front of him and stared at them.

  "There is no us," he murmured. "We are not the same."

  His hands traveled to his face and began scratching, flesh coming off his face and into his fingernails; his hand moved faster and faster.

  He scratched his face until blood began coming out, but he didn't stop. And kept repeating.

  "Not the same."

  “Not the same.”

  After minutes of scratching his face to the point that his hand was covered in blood and his face was unrecognizable, he closed one of his hands, the one that had caught the arrow, and put so much force into it, like he was trying to crush something out of it.

  “I am not like them and will never be. I will make sure that I end up a human.”

  His hand began to bleed on its own, blood seeping between his clenched fingers.

  Then he stood up, face and hands covered in blood, and began walking to the restroom, leaving blood drops on his way.

  He went inside without turning on the lights and went to the sink.

  He held the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Blood covered his face, deep scratches across his cheeks and forehead and all of his face.

  Then,

  They began to close. Flesh knitting together, skin reforming, blood drying and flaking away. In seconds, his face was smooth again. Perfect. Unmarked.

  As if nothing had happened.

  As if the pain had never happened.

  He sighed, then left the restroom and took a jacket from a wardrobe that was under the bed. He put it on over his sleeve-burned uniform.

  He looked at the blood on the ground for a second.

  He snapped his fingers. Dark red flames appeared, burning the blood until it vaporized, leaving no trace.

  Then he sank into the shadows and appeared on the roof of the building.

  A roof with no fence, as it wasn't designed for visitors.

  His eyes were fixated on the moon as he walked slowly toward the edge, the life taken from his eyes. He stooped near the edge, still looking at the moon when he heard a voice.

  "I knew I'd find you here."

  Roy turned his head to find Omar walking toward him.

  "The first day was a tough one, right?" Omar walked slowly, his tone different from usual: calmer and friendlier.

  Roy sighed as he completely turned around with the smallest fake smile on his face.

  "The moon looks great today. doesn’t it?"