Michi

The evening dragged on lazily in the old gazebo. Michi twirled his empty cup in his hands, and Aurora, hugging her knees, watched the sunset.

"Well, I'm definitely going to architecture," Michi said confidently, breaking the silence. "I want to build things that will last for centuries. And you, Aurora?"

She didn't answer. Her shoulders suddenly slumped, and her head jerked unnaturally to the side.

"Auror, what's wrong?" I lightly nudged her shoulder.
She turned slowly. In the dim light of the gazebo, her eyes flashed a bright red, unnatural light. Her lips stretched into a wide, alien smile.

"Build?" Her voice was a hoarse whisper, turning into a grinding sound. "Why build something that's so easy to destroy? For example... the human body."

Michi chuckled nervously, pulling away:

• Stop joking, it's not funny.

"Are you kidding?" Aurora leaned forward sharply, her fingers digging convulsively into the wooden table. "Oh, back in the time I'm from, I got bored. But in this... and this new container... it's perfect. Fresh."

“Stop...” my voice trembled when I noticed her hand reaching for the knife on the table.

"Aurora's gone, guys," she hissed, her bloodshot red eyes making us freeze. "I'm here now. And I have big plans for your future."