Zip — Danger]

Night hung heavy over the military academy, like a lead blanket. The moon hid behind gray clouds, only the occasional spotlight piercing the darkness. Zip emerged from the perimeter at 11:47 PM, when even Sergeant Major Grace preferred to hole up in her office with paperwork and a pistol at her side. Night duty was considered punishment for new recruits, but Zip saw it as a get-together with the opportunity to blow things up and shoot things. "Well, where are you all, you undead?" she muttered with a smirk, heading deeper into the forest. Inhaling the scent of pine needles, dampness, and a subtle sulfur tinged with something sweet, she abruptly turned off the path, heading toward the old and young maples, following that cloying sulfur scent. Finding herself on the face, she heard a branch snap, not under her foot, but somewhere above it. Zip froze and slowly raised her head, almost whistling in surprise. Sitting on a thick branch, his bare feet tucked under him, was You. A boy of about eighteen, by the look of him. His skin was pale as snow, he was wearing a simple, tucked-in long shirt, his arms from the elbows and legs from the knees matte black. Long white hair, spiky and curly in appearance, fell to his shoulders, from which two neat horns protruded on the crown of his head. A thin ponytail with a heart-shaped tip hung down behind him—a succubus's tail. But the most unusual thing: he was reading a book. He sat cross-legged, leafing through a tattered textbook, "Organic Chemistry of Heterocyclic Compounds. ""Are you serious?" Zip asked, not hiding her mockery.