The crisp mid-September air swept through Tianmu City, carrying away summer’s last trace of heat. Only tranquil nights remained. The wind on the empty streets whispered gently, brushing against skin with refreshing coolness.
A digital clock by the roadside blinked 22:34—a silent reminder to stragglers: *Time to head home.*
But for Nangong Shiyu, a second-year student at Tianmu City Fourth High School, this hour merely marked the walk back from school. Sleep was still far off.
"Shiyu," said Luo Qitian, her classmate walking her home, "it’s Saturday in two days. Wanna hit the comic con together?"
"Again? Didn’t I just go with you at the start of term?"
"My friend’s selling doujinshi there. Gotta support them—would be inhuman not to." Luo Qitian slung an arm over Shiyu’s shoulders. "Rumor has it our class rep’s cosplaying at this con. Seriously, you’re not curious?"
"...Why should I care if she goes?" Shiyu frowned.
"Huh? She wrote you a love letter last week!" Luo Qitian grinned wickedly. "You dense normie. She confessed, and you won’t even go see her?"
"Says the guy who flirts with every girl then rejects them all."
At 185cm tall and a star basketball player, Luo Qitian was wildly popular with girls. Shiyu knew he’d turned down over twenty confessions since freshman year—an absurd, almost frightening number.
—Though he’d rejected every single one.
Luo Qitian suddenly ducked his head, adjusted his glasses, and struck a pose like Ultraman transforming.
"I’m a pure-blooded otaku! How could I date real-world girls? Young. Foolish. *Too young, too naive!* My one true love is 2D!"
"Then explain all that flirting." Shiyu shot him a glare.
"Just casually grinding favor points. Nothing serious." He pushed his glasses up again and stopped walking. "Well, I’m home. See you tomorrow. Peace~"
They’d reached Luo Qitian’s apartment complex without realizing it. Their routes home overlapped, but Shiyu’s place lay two streets further.
"Bye."
"Oh, and when are you finally cosplaying in a maid outfit? I’m dying to see it!" Luo Qitian called over his shoulder.
"Get lost!"
*This guy’s hopeless,* Shiyu thought. *A total weeb.*
Alone now, Shiyu’s mind drifted back to the unsolved math problem waiting at home. All other homework was done—except that final question on today’s test. He’d spent most of evening study hall wrestling with it. He refused to ask the teacher; solving it alone would feel more rewarding.
Lost in equations, Shiyu barely noticed the empty street. Her focus was so absolute, she might’ve walked straight into a lamppost and not blinked.
Which was why she didn’t see the violet orb plummeting from the sky.
"Hmm… wait! This method might work!" Shiyu clenched a fist, slamming it into her palm in triumph.
*That exact instant—*
The orb struck the crown of her head.
Thunder cracked. Lightning split the night—a blinding spear that pierced Shiyu’s skull. Current surged through every nerve, searing cells to charcoal.
"AAAAAAAH!"
Heat scorched her nerves. Muscles convulsed uncontrollably.
Two seconds later, silence. The world reset as if nothing happened. Shiyu stared blankly ahead, dazed.
*That feeling… was I struck by lightning?*
But if so… why was she still alive?
She checked her body—no burns, no scorch marks. She flexed her fingers, shifted her limbs. Nerves functioned perfectly. Nothing felt amiss.
*Was it a hallucination?* Probably. She’d been overthinking that math problem. Rest would fix it. Tomorrow, she’d wake up fine.
But what if it *wasn’t* a hallucination?
Shiyu shook her head. *Impossible. A real lightning strike carries 3 million volts minimum. I’d be dead.*
"Um…"
A tiny finger poked Shiyu’s back. She turned.
A silver-haired girl stood there, barely 160cm tall. She wore a gothic black dress and gripped a pitch-black scythe taller than herself—its blade gleaming like polished obsidian.
Shiyu flinched backward. *A cosplayer,* she realized, forcing down her panic. "Can I help you?"
Crimson eyes met hers. The girl nodded shyly. "I… need to ask a favor."
"Sure, if I can."
*As long as it doesn’t take too long.*
"Well…" The girl’s voice dropped to a whisper. "Can I… drain you dry?"
"What?!" Shiyu froze, stunned. "Say that again?"
"I… I want to drain you dry…"
*That explains nothing.* "Wait—what does ‘drain dry’ even *mean*?"
"You really care about the wording?"
*Of course I do! Are you talking about blood? Energy? Is this some street solicitation cosplay?!* Shiyu screamed internally.
"I don’t understand."
"Just… literally."
"But *what* literally?!"
The girl’s face tightened with desperation. "Please… let me drain you. It’s *really* important!"
Suddenly, another voice echoed in Shiyu’s mind:
—*"Run! What are you waiting for?!"*
An invisible force shoved Shiyu backward, away from the scythe-wielding girl.
—*"Use the lightning inside you! Strike her back!"*
"Who *are* you?!"
—*"No time! Just do it!"*
The silver-haired girl advanced, scythe glinting. Shiyu stumbled back, heart pounding. "I don’t know how!"
—*"Easy. Imagine electricity surging through you. Then unleash it."*
Shiyu almost scoffed—*this person’s delusional*—but the girl’s crimson eyes held genuine, bone-chilling killing intent. Just meeting that gaze made Shiyu’s spine freeze.
*No choice.*
She pictured lightning crackling in her veins. *Release it.*
—*CRACKLE-SKREEE!*
Visible bolts erupted from Shiyu’s body, screeching like nails on glass. They coiled around her like living wires, then shot forward like a laser cannon blast.
The beam engulfed the silver-haired girl. When the light faded, she was gone.
*I… controlled lightning?*
Shiyu stared at her trembling hands—hands that had just fired a sci-fi weapon. *Am I dreaming?*
Then she noticed something wrong.
Her fingers looked slender. Her arms… pale as porcelain. *Like a girl’s.*
*Why?*
Slowly, Shiyu looked down.
Two distinct curves pressed against her school uniform.
Shiyu jumped back with a gasp. After three shaky breaths, she reached down to confirm the impossible.
*No…*
"What… what’s happening?!"
Why had she… become a girl?
