Y/n had claimed her usual spot, perched on the stone ledge where the railing dipped low, her legs dangling over the drop that would kill any normal person.

The stars were out. Clear. Bright. The kind of sky that made you forget the world below existed at all.

Then her skin prickled.

It started at the base of her skull, a faint electric hum that crawled down her spine and settled in her fingertips. Familiar. Unmistakable.

Danger.

Somewhere below — the grounds, maybe — a scream cracked the silence. Muffled by distance, but unmistakable. Followed by a crash. Wood splintering. Something heavy hitting stone.

Y/n was already standing, the cold air snapping against her face as she whispered the word that changed everything.

"Weave."

Black and silver flowed over her like liquid shadow, clingy and seamless. The mask settled over her eyes, light as silk, and when she exhaled, her breath came out steady. Controlled.

Nightweaver stepped onto the ledge.

Below, a flash of light erupted near the greenhouses — purple, unnatural, the color of a spell that had no business being cast on school grounds.