Chapter Text
There were only three universal truths at Astra University:
- The Biotech building smelled faintly of ethanol and superiority.
- Engineering students thought they were God’s favorite.
- Zayne Li and Sylus Qin were one faculty meeting away from actual manslaughter.
It started freshman year.
Zayne won Best Research Proposal. Sylus won National Robotics Championship. Zayne topped GPA rankings. Sylus broke the interfaculty decathlon record. Zayne published a paper. Sylus built a drone that spelled “COPE” in the sky over the Biotech building.
The rivalry escalated accordingly.
The Incident (Academic Edition):
“Congratulations to this year’s Interfaculty Innovation Finalists!”
The auditorium buzzed. Professors clapped. Students whispered.
Zayne sat front row, posture immaculate, expression cool. Sylus lounged two rows behind him like he’d personally funded the university.
The host smiled nervously.
“And in first place… from Biotech Faculty… Zayne Li!”
The applause was immediate.
Zayne stood, calm as a monk, walked up to receive the medal.
Behind him—
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Slow. Deliberate.
Sylus Qin.
“Impressive,” Sylus called out casually. “Didn’t know lab work required that much emotional support from your supervisor.”
The room went dead silent.
Zayne turned. Smiled politely.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he replied smoothly. “At least mine works without exploding.”
Someone choked in the back.
Caleb, seated beside Sylus, whispered, “Oh we’re starting early today.”
Rafayel was already recording.
Outside the Auditorium: The Daily Ritual
They didn’t talk.They circled. Like two apex predators in overpriced campus sneakers.
“You peak in academics,” Sylus said lazily. “Cute.”
“You peak in sports,” Zayne replied. “Adorable.”
Sylus’s eyebrow twitched.
“You’re fragile.”
“You’re loud.”
“You couldn’t outrun me if your thesis depended on it.”
“You couldn’t pass molecular genetics if your ego depended on it.”
Caleb sighed. “Ten bucks they start throwing hands before midterms.”
Xavier adjusted his glasses beside Zayne. “Statistically likely.”
Rafayel gasped dramatically. “Oh my god. Enemies to lovers arc?”
Both Zayne and Sylus snapped simultaneously:
“Shut up.”
The Sports Problem:
Zayne’s greatest weakness was not Sylus’s mouth. It was Sylus’s physical existence.
Because unfortunately for Zayne—
Sylus was annoyingly athletic.
Interfaculty track meet.
Zayne ran because the Biotech dean said participation “builds character.” Sylus ran because he liked winning.
The gun fired.
Zayne ran like he had a point to prove. Sylus ran like gravity personally apologized to him.
Final stretch—
Sylus overtook him. Won by half a second.
He turned around while still jogging backwards.
“Should’ve studied running form.”
Zayne almost collapsed out of spite.
Later that night, Xavier handed him electrolytes. “You know you don’t have to compete in sports.”
Zayne wiped sweat from his brow. “I refuse to let him dominate all metrics.”
“That’s not how metrics work.”
“It is now.”
The Lab War:
It was a quiet Tuesday.
Which meant violence was imminent.
Zayne entered the shared innovation hall—neutral territory. Engineering and Biotech labs separated by glass walls.
Sylus was already there, sleeves rolled up, forearms illegal. Zayne refused to look.
He looked.
Regretted it.
Sylus glanced up.
“Oh. The lab rat.”
“Oh. The overgrown toolbox.”
Caleb, typing furiously on his laptop nearby, whispered, “Please don’t break anything expensive.”
Rafayel was sketching in the corner.
Xavier was calculating orbital trajectories for an Astronomy elective because he valued peace.
Zayne placed his prototype bio-regeneration module onto the central table. Sylus rolled his mechanical stabilizer forward at the same time.
They froze.
“You move.”
“No, you move.”
“Engineering has priority booking.”
“Biotech filed first.”
“Prove it.”
Zayne pulled out documentation. Sylus pulled out a different document.
Caleb leaned over. “Oh my god you both actually prepared for this.”
“Of course we did,” they said in unison.
They glared at each other.
Xavier muttered, “This is the intellectual version of two cats refusing to leave a doorway.”
The Physical Altercation (Lightly Regrettable):
It happened fast.
Zayne reached to adjust his module. Sylus reached too.
Their hands collided.
Neither pulled back.
Eye contact. Electric. Not romantic.
Hostile.
“Remove your hand.”
“You remove yours.”
“You’re touching my work.”
“You’re in my airspace.”
Rafayel whispered loudly, “Oh they’re gonna kiss or kill.”
Caleb: “Place bets.”
Sylus leaned closer. Zayne leaned forward.
And then—
Zayne shoved. Sylus shoved back.
The table wobbled.
Caleb screamed, “NOT THE EQUIPMENT—”
Xavier caught the bio-module mid-fall with reflexes no one expected.
Rafayel dropped his sketchpad in delight.
Security was called.
Again.
Suspension? No.
The dean had given up.
“Please,” she said, rubbing her temples, “just stop attempting homicide during academic hours.”
Zayne bowed politely. Sylus smirked.
Outside the office—
“You started it.”
“You escalated it.”
“You breathe wrong.”
“You exist wrong.”
Caleb leaned against the wall. “You two are exhausting.”
Xavier nodded. “Emotionally inefficient.”
Rafayel beamed. “Artistically fascinating.”
Academic Revenge:
Midterms.
Rankings posted publicly.
Zayne: 4.00 GPA.
Sylus: 3.98.
The campus erupted. Engineering group chat exploded. Biotech group chat exploded louder.
Sylus stared at the board.
Two hundredths.
Two.Hundredths.
Behind him, Zayne cleared his throat. “Oh? Something wrong?”. Sylus turned slowly. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Zayne tilted his head. “Oh, I will.”
Caleb whispered, “He’s gonna run ten extra kilometers out of spite.”
Rafayel whispered back, “He’s gonna invent a new sport just to win.”
The Festival Disaster:
Astra University’s annual Interfaculty Festival.
Games. Booths. Performances.
Zayne was running a biotech demo booth. Sylus was leading the Engineering obstacle challenge.
It was inevitable.
They ended up in the same competitive event: “Faculty Showdown.”
Obstacle course plus puzzle solving. Teams randomized.
The announcer grinned.
“And we have… Zayne Li and Sylus Qin paired together!”
Silence.Campus held its breath.
Zayne: “I refuse.”
Sylus: “Same.”
Announcer: “No switching.”
Caleb fell to his knees laughing.
Xavier looked genuinely concerned.
Rafayel was crying with joy.
Phase One: Obstacle Course
Sylus sprinted ahead. Zayne kept up, fueled by hatred and caffeine.
Wall climb.
Sylus boosted Zayne without asking. Zayne froze mid-air.
“…Don’t touch me.”
“You want to win or not?”
Zayne climbed. Refused to acknowledge the assistance.
Phase Two: Logic Puzzle
A molecular sequencing riddle combined with mechanical calibration.They stared at the board.
Zayne solved half instantly.Sylus solved the structural mechanism.
They locked eyes.
Realization.
“You’re wrong.”
“You’re incomplete.”
Simultaneously—
They adjusted each other’s sections.
It clicked.Timer stopped. Record time. Crowd erupted.
They stood too close.
Breathing heavy. Not from feelings.
From competition.
“Don’t get used to this,” Zayne muttered. Sylus smirked.“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
They won.
Together.
And immediately walked in opposite directions.
The Quiet Moment (Uncomfortable)
Later that night. Campus empty.
Zayne stayed late in the lab. Sylus returned for his stabilizer prototype.They met at the doorway.
No audience. No friends. Just fluorescent lights and tension.
“You were slower on the second obstacle,” Sylus said casually.
“You hesitated on the torque calculation.”
Silence.
Then—
“You did well,” Sylus added.
Zayne blinked. “…You too.”
It felt illegal. They both looked away.
Meanwhile, The Friends:
Caleb: “They’re going to implode.”
Rafayel: “No. They’re going to combust romantically.”
Xavier: “Statistically speaking, prolonged rivalry increases emotional fixation.”
Caleb: “Translation?”
Xavier: “They think about each other too much.”
All three looked toward the lab building.
Simultaneously.
“Yeah,” they said.
The Final Scene (For Now:
The semester ranking update. Overall Performance Index. Academic + Athletic + Innovation + Contribution.
First place: Zayne Li.
Second place: Sylus Qin.
By one point.
One.
Sylus stared at the board. Zayne stepped beside him.
“You’re slipping.”
Sylus looked at him. Low voice. “Careful.”
“Of?”
“Winning by margins.”
Zayne’s breath hitched for a fraction of a second. “You sound threatened.”
Sylus leaned closer. “I don’t lose.”
Zayne met his gaze. “Neither do I.”
Electric. Dangerous.
Not love. Not yet.
But something had shifted. Not just enemies. Not just rivals.
But two forces orbiting the same center.
Unavoidable.
And everyone knew— this was only the beginning.