Kealix's relief at being back in the real world quickly twisted into a knot of questions that clawed at his mind. That voice—Amyleigh—still echoed in his thoughts, strange and impossible. Her words felt like they belonged to some other universe, one he wasn't meant to understand. But the one word she had spoken over and over again rattled him:
Father.
Why had she call him that? Who was she? What did it mean?
His mind spun, but none of it mattered—not yet. He needed to move. To see. To figure out where he was, because he wasn't the only one caught in that blast.
Come on, body, he willed, frustration tightening his chest. Move.
He clenched his teeth and forced his arms to respond. Cold air bit into his skin like shards of glass. The ground beneath him wasn't solid—it was jagged, uneven, chaotic. Not a floor, but rubble.
Am I still in the classroom? The thought was a desperate stab in the dark. I have to open my eyes.
He pushed himself upward. Every muscle screamed like it had been shredded, torn apart, then barely stitched back together. Worse than any fight. Worse than any punishment.
A groan tore from his throat as he settled onto his knees, breath ragged and shallow. Humiliating. Just getting up left him gasping like a drowning man.
Okay... I'm up. Now—eyes open. Easy, right?
But no. His eyelids felt sealed shut, stitched tight by an invisible thread he couldn't break. He lifted a hand—only to find his arm useless, limp like dead weight.
Minutes stretched as he struggled, until finally, his left eye cracked open. A flicker of hope bloomed inside him.
Then panic came. His right eye stayed shut, stubborn and in place.
Why won't it open? Fear throbbed in his chest. Did I—did It go blind?
His breath hitched, but he forced himself to focus. He needed to see.
With the one good eye, he scanned the wreckage.
Half the classroom was gone. Not broken—gone. Like something had sliced it clean away.
The rest lay in chaos. Desks overturned and splintered, walls scorched and cracked. Bodies—his classmates—lay scattered across the rubble-strewn floor. Unconscious, but broken. Wounded.
Smoke curled through the air. Sparks flickered from torn lights overhead. A low, pulsing hum buzzed beneath the chaos.
Kealix swallowed hard, his heart pounding. He was still on his knees, staring wide-eyed at the ruin.
What the hell happened here?
He glanced down—and regretted it instantly.
His skin was sliced with glass shards, tiny knives embedded everywhere. Blood seeped from dozens of shallow wounds across his arms, chest, and shoulders.
His shirt was shredded, hanging in tatters that barely covered his scraped, bloodied torso.
Fuck... I really shouldn't have sat by that window, he muttered bitterly, the cold sting of regret biting deeper than the cuts.
Kealix winced, every movement a jagged pain. He needed to find his phone—anything to understand what was wrong with his right eye, the stubborn shutter that refused to open. He turned his head slowly, scanning the rubble nearby.
Then something caught him—a sharp, searing tug at his attention. The shimmer in the air, the distortion he'd noticed earlier, had grown... no, it had changed.
A monstrous wound hung in the sky—a tear in reality itself. Forty meters tall, twenty wide, floating like a raw, bleeding rip in the fabric of existence. Inside, colors twisted and churned—deep purples and void-black hues folding over themselves, patterns shifting and folding in impossible ways, like some endless puzzle mocking logic.
The edges burned with electric navy blue, pulsing, humming with power so thick the air trembled under its weight.
Kealix couldn't look away. This energy wasn't the same as the strange realm he'd just escaped, but it was connected—two sides of the same broken coin. Light and shadow. Order and chaos. Life and death.
He felt it watching him—no, seeing him—like something on the other side locked eyes with his very soul.
Then the world shifted again.
The sky—the bright warmth and sun—vanished. Not hidden behind clouds, not fading. Simply gone.
Now, the vast sky had dulled into unnatural darkness, a twilight gloom swallowing the day whole. No stars. No moon. No comfort. Just cold, alien shadow pressing down.
His throat tightened. Panic clawed up his chest.
What the hell is happening? This can't be real.
But a quiet voice inside whispered, steady and sure.
Breathe.
Calm down.
You're back. Don't fall apart now.
Kealix shut his left eye, forcing himself to steady the panic inside. He'd survived worse—he'd made it through that hellish place just a moment ago. Whatever this was, he could face it too.
A bitter grin twisted his lips. "Well... could be weirder," he muttered, voice rough. "Not sure about the 'worse' part, though."
He turned back, eyes searching, and spotted his phone half-buried in the rubble—alongside his torn schoolbag and scattered belongings. A small mercy it had survived this chaos.
Hands trembling, he snatched it up, flicked the screen on, and opened the camera. Switching to selfie mode, he raised it slowly toward his face, bracing for the truth he dreaded.
The image confirmed everything.
His right eye… was gone.
Not shut. Not injured. Gone. Where his eye should've been was nothing but a hollow, scarred socket. And yet, it didn't hurt. At least not that spot. There was no stinging, no burning, no bleeding. Just emptiness.
"My eye..." he whispered in disbelief. "I'm not just blind. It's completely gone... How does that even happen?"
He lowered the phone, his thoughts racing. And then he remembered.
Joshua. Nox.
They had been sitting right next to him before it all went to hell.
Without hesitation, Kealix turned, scanning the ruined room around him. His vision was blurry, but still good enough to make out shapes and faces. He strained to focus.
"Joshua? Nox?! Where are you? Are you alive?!" he called out, voice raw, one eye squinting, teeth clenched from the pain.
No response.
The silence pressed against him like a weight. Fear crept into his gut.
He tried to stand—but collapsed almost instantly. His legs gave out beneath him, sending him hard into the rubble. The pain shot through him like fire.
"Damn it..." he groaned.
Gritting his teeth, he tried again—this time slower, more carefully. On his second attempt, he managed to get up. Barely. He limped with each step, his entire body aching.
But then—movement.
From the corner of his eye, he saw figures shifting. Some of the students were beginning to wake up, groaning, dazed, and confused. Among them... Joshua.
Relief washed over Kealix like a wave.
He wasn't alone.
Not yet.
Joshua wasn't far—no more than five meters away at best.
"Joshua!" Kealix called out, relief flooding his voice. "Man, am I glad to see you. Are you alright?"
There was clear joy on Kealix's face despite the bruises, blood, and exhaustion written all over him. It was the first genuine emotion he'd felt since waking up in the chaos.
Joshua stirred, groaning as he pushed himself slightly upright. "Kealix...? Ugh... is that you? I think I'm fine—what about y—" He stopped mid-sentence, his head turning slowly as his eyes locked onto something next to them.
"What the fuck is that thing?" he said, voice trembling with a mixture of awe and fear.
Kealix limped toward Joshua, each step dragging, muscles protesting—but something was off. The pain that should have screamed from every cut and shard wasn't there, or at least, it was fading. His wounds were closing, the glass no longer biting as sharply into his flesh. It was unnatural. Unsettling.
Wh-What the hell is happening to me?!
"I... I don't know what it is," he said, eyes flicking back to the sky, still drawn to that monstrous rift. "It just showed up. No warning. One second it wasn't there—then it was."
His calm mask had cracked, replaced by something raw: confusion, maybe even fear. He'd seen strange things before. But this? This was beyond anything he could wrap his mind around.
Then a voice broke through the heavy air, sharp and impatient.
"What the hell are you guys talking about? Can't you see I need help getting up too?"
Kealix and Joshua snapped their heads toward the sound. That voice—gruff, familiar.
Nox.
Unlike most who had been thrown down, Nox was slumped against the wall, one knee raised like some cocky hero in the middle of a disaster. The casual pose felt bizarre in the wreckage.
Joshua's face shifted, shock melting into a grin that was all teeth and mischief.
"Well, if you want help so bad, why don't you say please?" he shot back, playful despite the chaos.
"Fuck off," Nox growled, irritation clear in his voice. "I'm injured and you want me to say please? Usually I let your crap slide, but you're really pushing it today, Joshua!"
The scowl on Nox's face left no doubt about how serious he was.
Kealix sighed, rubbing his temple, exhaustion and frustration weighing heavy.
How did it come to this? I'm the damn adult here.
"I can't believe I'm the voice of reason," Kealix muttered, voice low and rough with exhaustion. The words tasted bitter on his tongue. But stop arguing. We don't know what just happened. The weight in his chest tightened. That thing in the sky—it could be dangerous. We need to help the others and get out. Now.
Joshua's grin faded, the corners of his mouth twitching into something serious. Even Nox's scowl softened, the sharp edge between them dulling as the reality of the moment settled in.
Nox's eyes flicked upward toward the darkened sky, shadowed and unnatural. His voice was slow, careful. "I agree. Making sure everyone's safe is the priority. That thing—no warning, just appeared out of nowhere. And we have no clue how the outside world's reacting. Or if they even know."
Kealix locked his gaze on Nox. Concern wrapped tight around his ribs, squeezing with every thought spinning through his head. How bad was this? How deep did this reach? His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, the dry scrape echoing inside.
This isn't over.
"So... you've come to the same conclusion I have?" Kealix's voice dropped to a whisper, each word heavy with dread.
Nox nodded slowly, eyes narrowing. "There's a chance this is some kind of barrier," he said, voice low, dark with worry. "One that isolates this entire area from the outside world. Worst case—no one even knows this is happening. And we won't be able to leave."
The truth hit harder than Kealix expected. Hearing it aloud made it more real, more suffocating. Fear pooled deep, cold, and sharp.
Silence settled between them like a weight.
Then Joshua broke it. Firm. Urgent. "Enough of that. We need to help the others—now. We have to move fast."
Kealix and Nox nodded, muscles coiling, tension easing just enough to focus. Time was slipping away. Whatever was coming, they weren't ready—but waiting wasn't an option.
Then, a prickling sensation crawled at the edges of Kealix's awareness. Not the rift—that terrible wound in the sky was still there, pulsing—but something else. Something nearer. Sharper.
His gaze dropped to the rubble beneath his feet.
A flicker of light—a subtle shimmer shifting under broken tiles and shards of glass.
He knelt, breath catching as his fingers brushed away the debris.
There they lay.
His tarot cards.
But they weren't the same. Each card shimmered with an impossible glow—iridescent colors twisting and folding over one another like liquid light, humming with energy.
Not a phone. Not a screen.
Something different.
Something else.
Kealix froze, eyes locked on the glowing cards. His breath hitched, tight and shallow. The light wasn't random—it pulsed, shifting, as if alive. Like it was watching him.
Or maybe... responding to him.