By the time I made it back to the school, the sun was already gone.
The gym lights spilled out through the doors in ribbons of gold and pink, mixing with the sharp pulse of bass that thudded against the parking lot. Even from outside, I could hear people yelling over the music — laughing, dancing, shouting each other's names. The sound felt far away, like it belonged to another world.
I was an hour late.
The courthouse had taken longer than it should've. I'd sat there for nearly thirty minutes after they dismissed me, staring at the empty table, trying to remember how to breathe. I still wasn't sure what bothered me more — the things they asked or the way they asked them. And through it all, I'd kept thinking about the dance. Sariya. The red shirt. The promise I'd made.
I almost didn't come. I almost went home, changed into something else, and pretended the day didn't exist. But the silence at home felt heavier than this, so I walked back to school.
Now I stood at the entrance, hand on the gym door, the music vibrating through my fingers.
It was strange — that sound used to mean something exciting. Now it just made my head feel like it was echoing.
I pulled the door open.
Warm air and colored lights hit me at once. The place was packed — bodies moving, laughter bouncing off the walls, spotlights cutting through the haze of cheap fog machines. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the crowd.
It felt unreal. Too alive. Too loud.
"Kaleb!"
I turned and saw Malique near the bleachers, wearing a half-buttoned black shirt and that smug grin he always had when he spotted me. He waved me over, holding a cup of punch.
"Bro, where were you?" he asked as I got closer. "You missed, like, three slow songs and the worst DJ transition I've ever heard."
"Traffic," I said.
He raised an eyebrow. "You don't drive."
"I walked."
"From where, Los Angeles?"
I smirked faintly. "Something like that."
Malique studied me for a second, like he wanted to ask more but decided not to. Instead, he handed me the cup. "Drink before it runs out. I think someone spiked it."
"Good to know," I said, setting it down.
Darrell, Ski, and Leon were nearby, sitting on the edge of the bleachers, arguing about who could dance better. It was the kind of meaningless noise I'd missed — something normal, something stupid.
Then I heard her voice.
"Kaleb!"
I turned again. Sariya stood near the dance floor, a few feet away from the stage lights. Her dress was a deep shade of maroon, subtle but elegant, and the light caught in her hair every time she moved. She waved, and for the first time all day, I felt something close to relief.
"You're late," she said as I walked over.
"I know," I said. "I got caught up with something."
Her smile faded slightly. "Everything okay?"
I hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Just… long day."
"Well, you made it," she said, forcing her brightness back into place. "That's what matters."
"Yeah," I said softly. "I guess it is."
The music changed — the beat slowing, the bass deepening into a softer rhythm. She looked toward the floor, then back at me. "So… are you gonna stand there all night, or are you gonna dance?"
I laughed. "I don't dance."
"You said that last year, and I caught you doing it anyway."
"That was peer pressure."
She smiled wider. "Then consider this peer pressure, too."
Her hand brushed mine — light, hesitant — and for a second I forgot everything that had happened today. The courtroom, the questions, the word "Apex" echoing in the back of my head. It all blurred out.
We moved onto the dance floor. The lights spun overhead — red, blue, yellow — the kind of shifting haze that makes time feel slower. It wasn't perfect, but it was something close to peace.
"See?" she said softly. "Not that bad."
"Don't get cocky," I said.
She laughed — that laugh that always cracked a little at the end, like she was trying not to.
For a few minutes, everything was okay.
Then the lights flickered.
It wasn't much — just a quick stutter, barely noticeable. But I caught it . A low static hum cut through the speakers, hidden beneath the music.
The DJ smacked the mixer, and the beat came back in. No one seemed to notice.
"Probably just a power surge," Sariya said, but her voice carried a nervous laugh.
"Yeah," I said. "Probably."
The next song came on — louder, faster — and everyone cheered. The gym felt alive again.
But something in the air shifted.
I didn't know how to describe it. The atmosphere felt thicker, like the air itself had weight. The lights overhead flickered again, longer this time. The crowd murmured, confused but not worried yet.
I scanned the edges of the gym — the doors, the back hallway, the emergency exits. Everything looked normal, but my chest felt tight.
Sariya leaned closer. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I said automatically. "Just… dizzy."
She nodded, concern knitting her brow. "Do you wanna sit?"
"Maybe in a bit."
The music dropped into another bass-heavy rhythm, shaking the floor. The fog machines hissed louder than before, filling the lower air with a strange metallic scent — not the usual sweet-smelling kind they used.
I looked up at the rafters. The lights above the gym flickered again, strobing faster this time, like a heartbeat.
Something wasn't right.
Then the speakers screeched — high-pitched feedback that made everyone wince. The music cut out completely.
A few people clapped and laughed, thinking it was part of the show . It wasn't.
The lights flickered one more time — then all at once, they went out.
A wave of gasps swept the gym. The emergency lights kicked on a second later, dim and red, casting the whole room in an eerie glow.
The fog drifted higher now, illuminated by the crimson hue. Someone shouted from near the stage, "Yo, who messed with the power?"
Then, through the static in the speakers, a distorted voice cut in.
"Now that's more like it."
The crowd froze. The voice was low, electric, carried with a faint echo like metal grinding against itself.
A few students laughed nervously, assuming it was a prank . Then one of the side doors slammed open, the sound echoing through the gym.
A figure stepped in through the fog.
Tall, lean, armored in black with faint green lines tracing through the plating like circuits. His mask covered everything but his mouth, where a single sharp grin glowed faintly through a transparent layer.
He walked with deliberate calm, each step clicking against the gym floor.
Students backed away slowly. Phones came out. Someone whispered, "Is this part of the dance?"
The figure tilted his head, amused. "Part of it? No. But I'm here for the show."
The teachers near the stage stepped forward. "Sir, you can't—"
The man raised a hand, and a ripple of green energy pulsed outward. The microphone stands and DJ equipment sparked violently, shorting out in an instant. The teachers stumbled back, shielding their faces.
The crowd erupted into shouts.
I grabbed Sariya's hand and pulled her back toward the bleachers. "We need to go."
"Who is that?" she asked, voice trembling.
"No idea."
The intruder looked around, scanning the crowd like he was searching for something — or someone. His mask flickered faintly, and his grin widened.
"You kids have no idea how lucky you are," he said, his voice carrying easily through the room. "You get to witness history — firsthand."
"Who are you?" someone yelled.
He chuckled. "Just a messenger."
His gaze swept across the room — and for a split second, it landed on me. H stopped talking.
Something in my chest went cold.
The green lines on his armor pulsed brighter. "Well," he said softly, "that's interesting."
Before I could move, the fire alarms blared, and the sprinklers above the gym burst to life. Water poured down in sheets, drenching everyone, turning the fog into thick steam. The crowd surged for the exits, panic breaking loose.
Sariya gripped my arm. "Kaleb, we have to go!"
"I know," I said, glancing back toward the figure.
He was still watching me.
Even through the chaos, through the screaming and alarms, his voice cut through cleanly."We'll talk soon, Young."
Then he vanished — a shimmer of green static, gone in a blink.
The alarms screamed louder. The floor was soaked. People pushed and stumbled toward the doors.
Sariya was yelling something, but I could barely hear her. The sound in my ears was a rush of white noise — like the world itself had gone underwater.
I looked toward where the intruder had stood. Nothing. No trace. Just burnt circuits and dripping lights.
One hour late.
And already, everything was falling apart again.