Transmigrated Into A Women Dominated World

The possessed professor didn't even flinch even in the face of a hurled desk coming her way. She simply raised one delicate hand and the desk stopped dead in mid-air, inches from her face, held by an unseen power.

A menacing grin formed across her lips as if it to taunt Zaeryn for his failed attack.

With a quiet crackle of dark energy, the entire piece of furniture imploded, shattering into a thousand wooden splinters and twisted metal fragments that rained harmlessly onto the floor.

Zaeryn stared in shock. This was more powerful than he was capable of fighting and he didn't know what next. His defiance momentarily faded as the last of the desk clattered to the floor. The sheer, effortless power was terrifying. This wasn't a fight; it was an execution.

"Pathetic," Pyralis's voice echoed from Tiffany's throat, heavy with ancient, dismissive boredom. "You have the potential to put up a great fight… but you'll never get the chance. You are still just a mortal man, and you will die as one."

The entity lifted a hand again. The invisible force seized Zaeryn, hoisting him into the air as if he weighed nothing. His feet kicked uselessly as the pressure wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air. Dark spots danced in his vision.

"Your strength is an anomaly, a gift from your bond with the woman Ysmeine," the deep voice continued, Tiffany's face now a mask of cold triumph. "But it is nothing compared to true power. The power I offered you."

Outside the now-silent academy, Arya and Mireille waited inside the cruiser. Mireille occupied the pilot's seat, idly swiping through patrol reports on a holo-display, her expression a mask of professional boredom.

Arya, restless in the back, finally broke the silence. "So much for 'no time.' Does ten minutes feel like 'no time' to you?"

Without looking up, Mireille responded, her tone dry. "Give him time. He's probably working his charm on the professor. He seems to have a talent for that."

"Maybe," Arya conceded, though her brow was furrowed with concern. "But what kind of business requires a private meeting after hours?"

"Our job is to watch him, not analyze his social calendar," Mireille said flatly. "As long as he doesn't set off any alarms, it's not my business."

Arya fell silent, but her unease was palpable. She rose abruptly from her seat. "Something feels off. I'm going to check on him."

Mireille let out an exasperated sigh, finally turning from her console. "He's a grown man, Arya, not a child who needs his hand held."

Despite her words, she rose, her movements sharp with irritation. "Fine. Let's go. But if he's just delaying, I'm billing him for the wasted time."

Mireille let out an exasperated sigh, finally turning from her console. "He's a grown man, Arya, not a child who needs his hand held."

Despite her words, she rose, her movements sharp with irritation. "Fine. Let's go. But if he's just delaying, I'm billing him for the wasted time.

Back inside, Zaeryn was still being held up and choked by the mind-controlled professor, and he felt his lungs burn. The pressure on his chest was immense; his ribs were screaming in protest from the earlier impact.

He clawed at his throat, but his hands met only empty air. Through the haze of pain, he saw the golden eyes of the Dragon Lord watching him, dispassionate, like a scientist observing a failed experiment.

'System,' he gasped mentally, 'anything? Any options?'

[WARNING: VITAL SIGNS CRITICAL. HOST IS EXPERIENCING OXYGEN DEPRIVATION. PHYSICAL RESISTANCE IS INEFFECTIVE AGAINST CURRENT THREAT LEVEL.]

'Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious. How about giving me an actual solution? What should I do?'

The entity's voice dropped to a whisper, a sound that vibrated through Zaeryn's very bones. "A shame. You could have been magnificent".

The pressure intensified, his vision narrowing to a pinpoint. This was it? After surviving a bullet to the head and a transmigrated life, he was going to die choking in a professor's office?

'No way!' he declared. He couldn't allow this to be the end, and in one last attempt, not caring about overexertion, he forged a desperate, unstable shield of pure Vitae energy.

A blinding flash of golden light erupted from him, expanding into a shockwave that slammed into Tiffany. The force threw her backward, breaking her grip as she crashed into the far wall.

The pressure around Zaeryn's throat vanished, and he dropped to the floor in a heap, gasping, the precious air flooding his lungs. Zaeryn crumpled to the floor, lungs screaming for air.

However he didn't have time to recover because the mind controlled Tiffany was already getting back on her feet with a flicker of dark energy and she looked pissed.

Suddenly, the reinforced door behind Tiffany exploded inward in a shower of molten metal and sparks.

Framed in the smoking doorway stood Arya and Mireille, their blades glowing with furious energy and their faces set in grim determination.

The mind-controlled professor turned, her golden eyes widening in genuine surprise. She had not anticipated this interruption.

She realized they must have come to check on him when he failed to return outside. The entity controlling her, Pyralis, assessed the two War-Ladies through Tiffany's eyes, its expression shifting from fury to cold calculation. "War-Ladies?" it hissed through Tiffany's lips.

Mireille and Arya glanced at Zaeryn before focusing back on the professor. "Zaeryn, get back!" Arya ordered, her red blade held steady in a fighting stance.

"Careful, she's mind-controlled," Zaeryn warned, forcing himself back to his feet. It was a miracle he could even stand, feeling the overexertion from using his Vitae Weaving ability.

Mireille gave a nod. "Stand down," she commanded, her voice cutting through the tense air. "Whoever you are, you're outnumbered.".

The entity laughed, a sound that was deep and ancient, entirely wrong coming from Tiffany's throat. With a flick of her wrist, a large metal cabinet was ripped from the wall and hurled toward them.

Arya and Mireille split apart in a blur of motion as the cabinet smashed into the wall where they had been standing. Before anything settled, Mireille charged forward, her blue blade leaving a trail of light, while Arya moved to flank, her own red blade held ready.