Master Kangfu tore his garment and wrap it around the glowing hand. The rough cloth swallowed the glow, dimming it to a faint pulse beneath the fabric. Harry watched the light disappear, his breath caught halfway in his chest.
"What are you thinking?" Harry asked. Master Kangfu didn't answer. He just turned. "Follow me."
Harry followed behind him, still staring at his wrapped hand, half expecting the cloth to burst into light again. Every step felt heavier. The forest seemed quieter now, like it was listening.
They walked back into the academy grounds. Lamps burned low along the paths, throwing weak circles of light that barely touched the dark corners. Harry kept close to Kangfu, afraid to fall behind.
Master Kangfu entered the library. The smell of old paper and dust filled the air. Shelves stretched upward, stacked with scrolls and thick books that looked older than the walls themselves. He moved with purpose, his fingers brushing over spines until he stopped and pulled one out. Without a word, he turned and led Harry to his chambers.
The door shut behind them. Kangfu placed the book on the table and opened it. The pages were yellowed, the ink faded. He flipped until he reached a page and turned it toward Harry.
Harry leaned closer. It was a drawing of a man with a glowing hand, just like the way Harry's hand glowed a few minutes ago. The light in the picture was drawn in thick lines, almost violent, like it was tearing out of the page. "It is called the God Hand."
Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "The God Hand!" Master Kangfu nodded slowly. "It is said to have been lost over five hundred years ago. Legend had it that it sank into a river. But no one knew the exact river nor has any seen it since then. But I guess you just did."
Harry's mouth was wide open. His eyes drifted from the page to his wrapped hand. The cloth seemed thinner now, as if the light beneath it was pushing. "I guess I accidentally claimed it when they threw me into the Alabama river."
Master Kangfu nodded. "I guess so." The room felt smaller. Harry's breathing sounded too loud. He looked at his hand once again. The cloth was warm. Too warm. "What will happen to me now?"
Master Kangfu shook his head. Respect and pity mixed together in one composure. "The God Hand will be both a curse and a blessing to you."
Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "How will it be a blessing?" Master Kangfu smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "You wield the most powerful artifact left by the gods for humanity. If you master it, no one, human or spirit will be able to face you."
Harry felt something rise inside his chest. A spark. A dangerous one. The thought of becoming the strongest man alive excited him. For a moment, he forgot the river. Forgot the ropes. Forgot the way Jerry had begged him to stay away.
"How then will it be a curse?" He add, wanting to know the prize.
Master Kangfu turned and faced the wall. His shoulders looked heavier now. "You will become the target of all wicket creatures. Humans, beasts, Spirits. They will all desire to end your life and wield your power."
Harry flinched back. His wrapped hand twitched. "And if they notice you now that you are yet to Master it," Kangfu added softly, "They will kill you."
Harry felt his heart thunder against his ribs. Every beat sounded like a warning. "Then I do not want it," he said, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "I rather be a nobody than to fight for my life on a daily basic."
Harry began to draw his hand, as if he could separate the God Hand from himself. His fingers dug into his wrist, his breath uneven, his eyes fixed on the glowing memory beneath his skin.
"That is of no use," Master Kangfu said. "For you to be able to pull the Hand off at will, you must learn how to command it."
Harry exhaled slowly, as though letting go of a cliff he had been clinging to. "Then teach me. I have to master it."
Master Kangfu did not answer at once. He stared at Harry, long and hard, the way a man looks at a storm he knows he cannot stop. Even he did not know the road that lay ahead of them, nor the training that could bend something born of the gods. "Go to bed," Kangfu finally said. "Tomorrow we would begin."
Harry turned, ready to leave. His hand brushed the door, but Kangfu's voice cut through the room. "No, Harry. You will no longer sleep there. From now on, you will share this room with me."
Harry froze, then turned back. For a moment he forgot the danger, the glowing hand, the fear. All he saw was the massive bed, the thick covers, the warmth of a room that smelled of old wood and incense instead of damp stone.
He smiled. The thought of sleeping in the big bed and living in the comfortable room stirred something soft inside him. He walked to the bed and climbed onto it like a child who had never been allowed to touch something so fine. The mattress sank under his weight. His bones cracked as he stretched out. Then, slowly, his eyes drifted shut.
Master Kangfu watched him breathe, watched the boy slip into sleep. Then he turned and left the room.
The students' quarters were loud with whispers and uneasy movements. When Master Kangfu entered, the noise died instantly. The Astania boys straightened, their faces pale in the torchlight.
He gathered them to one quarter.
"You must keep whatever you saw with Harry today a secret," Kangfu said. His voice was low, but it pressed down on them like a weight. "If any one of you spill it, you would be expel from this school. Have I made my self clear?"
The boys nodded in unison. "Yes, Master." Their eyes were wide. Some of them swallowed hard.
Master Kangfu turned and left them there, standing in silence. He returned to his quarters. The door closed softly behind him. Harry was still asleep, one arm thrown across the pillow, his wrapped hand resting on his chest.
Kangfu stood there for a long time. Pride and pity tangled inside him, impossible to separate. "Harry," he whispered, more to himself than to the sleeping boy. "You are the future and hope of humanity. I won't allow any harm to come to you."
His eyes drifted to the wrapped hand. He knew Harry would be fighting Andy next day. And he knew what that meant.
"If it glow," Kangfu murmured, "the seven supreme masters would definitely recognise it. I can not allow that to happen. "
The room felt colder.
That night, he did not sleep. As the night deepened, Master Kangfu worked. Tools scraped softly against the floor. Pieces of rubber lay scattered across the table. His hands moved without pause, shaping, stretching, building. Every so often he glanced at Harry, making sure the boy was still breathing, still there.
By the time the morning bell rang, his fingers were raw. A new rubber hand lay on the table, dark and hollow, ready to hide the impossible.
Harry stirred at the sound of the bell. His eyes opened. He sat up, rubbing his face. The room felt strange, too large, too quiet. Then he remembered.
He jumped into the bathroom and took a shower. The water ran over his shoulders, over his scars, over the place where the God Hand waited beneath his skin.
He stood in front of the mirror, putting on his robes. His reflection looked thinner than he felt. His eyes, though, were different. "Today," he whispered to himself, "I will fight Andy. And I will avenge Flozy. He will feel the same pain he had ditched out to others."