Bottom line first: Skyler?Young might finally kiss his life?long singleness goodbye.

  But to explain, we need to roll back two days.

  Two days ago Skyler's best friend, Kevin Wang, swiped his phone and texted a three?hundred?word "heart?felt confession" to Vivian Li, just to prank him.

  By the time Skyler noticed it was too late to unsend. He fired off frantic explanations, but Vivian left him on read—and for the next forty?eight hours she dodged him at school.

  Skyler and Vivian were childhood neighbors, sandbox veterans since kindergarten, later moving to Licheng and even landing in the same high school—destiny's overkill, really.

  According to the body's pre?merge memories, little Sky had indeed crushed on her; the first time he saw that kindergarten beauty he swore to marry her—then transmigration blitzed those plans.

  Over the years her proximity earned Skyler no shortage of envy from their male classmates.

  Sure, he liked Vivian—who wouldn't like a stunner?—but he'd never chased the feeling; maybe the spark just never lit.

  In two months graduation would scatter everyone to the winds after the College Entrance Examination.

  Kevin, ever the chaos gremlin, decided that was unacceptable and staged the texting stunt to "push things along."

  Now, two days later, Vivian finally pinged back: I accept.

  Skyler's emotions tangled. Didn't I tell you Kevin sent that confession? Why are you ignoring that part?

  He typed another clarification—

  —but another message popped up: Meet today?

  After a heartbeat he replied: Sure.

  2 p.m., Shanqing District, Dawon Plaza.

  When Skyler arrived, Vivian had already been waiting.

  Weekend rare?time: Vivian wore a mint?green sweater, hair normally tied now cascading over her shoulders. The breeze lifted silk strands and her skirt hem as she waved, smiling bright. "Skyler, over here!"

  Ten miles of spring wind, one blossom of a grin.

  In that instant Skyler finally understood the simps in class—he'd been sitting on buried treasure.

  He walked up, smiling. "Sorry I'm late."

  "No worries. Lynn and I browsed a bit and picked up some study guides—got you two copies," Vivian said.

  Only then did Skyler spot the tall pony?tailed girl a few steps back, one hand in pocket, scrolling her phone like the epitome of cool.

  Her name: Lynn Qing, 1.67?m sprinter, Vivian's best friend.

  She was also the school?crowned goddess.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Gorgeous face—check. Somehow marble?pale skin despite daily sun—check. Years of training sculpted every curve beneath her tracksuit; those infamously long legs could KO any straight boy at ten paces.

  Oddly enough, whereas Vivian regularly gave guys the brush-off, Lynn didn't have a single admirer. She kept boys at arm's length, looking at them as pesky buzzing flies.

  Rumor settled on "man?phobic"; the smart ones stopped trying.

  Skyler suspected it wasn't phobia—more like she bloomed on the lily side of the garden.

  Noticing his stare, Lynn looked up. The force of her disdain downgraded him from fly to dung?sniffing fly.

  "Lynn, you coming?" Vivian called.

  "Nah, you two have fun." Lynn's smile to Vivian was angelic.

  Double. Freaking. Standard.

  That afternoon Skyler and Vivian downed bubble tea, caught a flick, and demolished barbecue—textbook normal?people bliss.

  Near midnight Skyler walked Vivian home along a deserted street, her steps a few paces ahead.

  Mid?stride she spun around. "Hey… you regretting this?"

  "Huh? Regret what?" he asked.

  Color rose to her cheeks. "Regretting that confession, dummy."

  "Vivian, actually—"

  "I thought saying yes would make you happy," she muttered, head tilted. "But maybe guys just… lose interest once they 'win'? Realize they never really liked the girl?"

  "No, it's just that text—"

  "Skyler," she squinted, studying him. "What's up with you today? Hiding something?"

  "…Am I?"

  "Yes! You've been spaced?out all day," she complained.

  Truth was he had been distracted; the date was supposed to help, but the more he tried to ignore the fear, the louder it shouted.

  After several false starts he finally asked, "Vivian, can I ask you something?"

  "Sure."

  "Back in ninth grade, your grandma died of a stroke, right?"

  "Yeah."

  "Did you see her one last time?"

  Vivian blinked. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, did you see her body?"

  "I was at school; by the time I got home, my parents had already sent her for cremation."

  "I see."

  Skyler thought: Just as I guessed.

  "Why is that strange?" she asked.

  "It's… nothing."

  Even at six Skyler had attended the orphanage director's funeral; he'd sensed this world played by different rules.

  Here, corpses went to ash immediately—no viewings, no farewells—as if erasing evidence.

  Grandpa, Vivian's grandma—both swept away in smoke.

  The notion chilled him.

  "You okay? You've gone white," Vivian murmured.

  "Vivian… have you ever thought maybe our world is dangerous?"

  She stiffened. "What are you talking about? Don't freak me out."

  "You know that lunatic who grabbed me last night?"

  "I heard. I was terrified for you. That's… part of why I said yes," she admitted, blushing.

  Skyler shook his head. "He wasn't trying to hurt me. He was warning me."

  "Warning? About what?"

  Skyler recapped the encounter and mentioned his grandpa's bizarre death when he was five.

  Vivian inched closer until her arm pressed his.

  "Maybe it was just a dream? You were so little…"

  "No. Definitely not."

  "Are you saying your grandpa was…?" she trailed off.

  "I'm not sure. Something just doesn't add up."

  "You peeked into the room, right? What did you see?"

  Skyler fell silent. He had seen something in that dream memory—though even he couldn't tell if it was real.

  "Actually…"

  "Ah! Forget it—let's just get home," Vivian muttered, dropping her gaze.

  "Vivian, you don't believe me?" Skyler caught her hand.

  She flinched, then pushed through her fear and nodded hard. "I believe you."

  "And I trust you. You're the only one I can tell. I… I saw a hand."

  "A hand?"

  "More like an arm—thick as a human thigh, covered in gray?green scales. The scales writhed like a pile of fat maggots, squirming and rolling… it was disgusting."

  "Oh my God…"

  "I don't know what it was, but it wasn't human." Skyler shuddered.

  "Skyler," Vivian whispered, meeting his eyes, "do you mean… like this?"

  Skyler's heart slammed.

  —Agony lanced through his wrist!

  He looked down. Vivian's slender white forearm split open; gray?blue flesh?scales pushed outward, layer upon layer.

  In the moonlight the scale?edges shimmered with a corpse?pale sheen, elongating and boring into his skin like leeches, drinking deep.

  "Vivian… you—"

  Vivian's other hand shot out, clamping his throat and lifting him effortlessly. The writhing scales liquefied into sticky tendrils that drove into his mouth, nostrils, ears—even the corners of his eyes.

  Unthinkable pressure crushed Skyler's skull; in seconds it would burst like a microwaved melon.

  "Thank you, Skyler." Vivian's voice remained soft—softer, even.

  She smiled. "You're the first Awakened I've ever met."

  "…"

  "I'll never, ever forget you."