The students stood frozen, paralyzed by the weight of their fear. Even those who had seemed composed just moments before were now stiff, their eyes wide and glassy, caught in the grip of that unearthly roar. Time dragged. Seconds stretched—it felt unbearable. No one moved.
No one could move.
Kealix's breath caught in his throat, his heartbeat loud and frantic in his ears. Panic clawed at the edges of his mind, scratching, screaming to be let in. He forced it down, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.
That sound...
It hadn't come from anything friendly.
He clenched his fists, trembling, forcing his voice into something steady.
"What the hell are you guys waiting for?!" he snapped. It came out hoarse, more plea than command.
"Get in formation. That thing—whatever it was—won't wait for us to run."
His voice cracked. Still, it worked.
Alora was the first to react, grabbing the nearest student—a younger boy who looked like he might collapse—and pulling him into a group with quiet urgency. Her eyes flicked to Kealix, waiting for his nod.
Joshua stepped up beside her, his expression sharp, the flickering firelight casting wild shadows across his face. "Group of three, now. You and you—move," he barked at two dazed students, physically pulling one by the arm when she didn't respond fast enough.
Others began to stir, uncertain but desperate to latch onto instruction. A few cried softly, muffled sobs breaking through clenched jaws. Still, they moved. The fear hadn't vanished—but now, it had direction.
In the far corner, someone whimpered. A girl curled into herself, rocking slightly. Her friend crouched beside her, not saying a word, just anchoring her with touch—a hand to the shoulder, a shared breath. Slowly, the girl unfurled like a clenched fist and let herself be pulled to her feet. Her limbs shook, and she leaned heavily on her friend, but she walked.
A crash echoed as someone knocked over a chair. Another student helped them up quickly, repeating, "We're okay. We're okay," like a fragile charm warding off chaos. The chant caught on; others mumbled it too, clinging to the rhythm like it might keep them sane.
Kealix swallowed hard. His pulse hadn't slowed. He scanned the room—no one was ready, not really—but they were moving. They were trying.
"We have to move. Now." His voice rang louder this time, firmer, though a tremor still crept beneath it.
No one had time for bravery. Only motion. Only survival.
And survival, he reminded himself, started with action.
He moved quickly, falling in beside Alora and the sharp-eyed boy who'd argued with the rebellious girl earlier. The three of them discussed the quickest and safest route—at least, the best they could manage under pressure, their voices low and urgent, words clipped by tension. Every second wasted felt like a countdown ticking louder in their heads.
And then—
"Crack!"
The sound split the air like a gunshot.
Kealix's head snapped toward the door. Nox had done it—he'd forced it open. The door wasn't shattered, but its frame was warped and the screws had come loose. It shouldn't have opened, not without damage. And yet, somehow, Nox had managed it.
"That's not good…" Nox muttered, voice steady at first, but unraveling by the second.
"What's wrong?" Joshua called, pushing through the crowd from the far side of the class, urgency tightening his steps.
Kealix didn't hesitate. He moved to the front—he had to. He was the leader. It didn't matter how afraid he was. It was his responsibility, bare minimum. Every pair of eyes in that room was counting on him.
And then he saw it.
Fuck.
Now he understood Nox's tone.
The rift's eerie glow still clung to the classroom in that haunting violet hue—but beyond the door, only pitch blackness waited. The power was out completely. No emergency lights, no flicker of backup systems. And with the storm raging outside, even the moonlight had been swallowed.
It was like staring into the mouth of something gigantic.
Just darkness. Thick. Swallowing. Endless.
"I can make a fire to light our way," Joshua's voice rang out—clear and steady, like a thread of hope pulling them forward.
He dug into his bag, pulling out a flint and steel. That bag looked more like a stretch of enchanted cloth than any normal fabric now—somehow, everything he packed had stayed inside, untouched by panic or time. Always the planner.
Those wildlife lessons actually came in handy, Kealix thought.
Unlike Nox and Kealix, Joshua wasn't built for combat. His frame was thin, almost frail. But where he lacked muscle, he'd traded for survival knowledge—the kind meant for emergencies, when brute strength wasn't enough. And right now, it was paying off.
"I just need some cloth to get it going," Joshua muttered, scanning the room quickly. His eyes landed on a busted desk. "Perfect," he added, a quiet excitement in his voice as he tore off its metal leg and wrapped his tattered shirt around the end like a makeshift torch. Someone handed him a small scrap of torn curtain, and he added it for extra kindling without missing a beat.
Kealix watched, tension rising in his chest as Joshua struck flint to steel. Sparks danced in the dark. Once. Twice. Five times. On the sixth strike—
The cloth caught. A small flame bloomed, flickering with life. Dim, but enough.
Enough to cut through the dark. Enough to remind them they weren't helpless.
"Well, well. Looks like my smarts beat your muscles this time, huh?" Joshua smirked, glancing at both Nox and Kealix with mock pride.
For the first time since this chaos began, a faint smile tugged at Kealix's lips—and Nox's, too. It was subtle, but it was something.
Joshua's sarcasm, that familiar bite in his voice, brought with it a strange comfort. Amid the unknown, it grounded them. It reminded them who they were—before the panic, before the roar, before the dark.
"Can you hand it to me? I'll lead," Nox asked quietly, voice calm but steady.
Joshua paused, then shook his head. "That's not a good idea. If it dims or goes out completely, you won't know how to reignite it." He straightened his back, his tone firm, deliberate. "I think I should take point."
His voice had changed—no nervous lilt, no hesitance. It was calm. Confident.
Both Kealix and Nox exchanged a glance. Joshua wasn't the type to lead. Not normally. He was the follower, the observer. But something had shifted. Maybe fear. Maybe instinct. Whatever it was, it had pulled leadership out of him like iron to a magnet.
"Very well," Nox said, nodding. "You make a good point. I'll stay in the back. Make sure no one gets left behind." His voice held a faint smile now.
Kealix couldn't help but smile, too.
Despite everything, their roles had formed naturally. Whether it was instinct, experience, or just some kind of survival logic—it worked. Nox behind, Joshua ahead. And him…
"Kealix, will you take the middle?" Joshua asked, eyes serious and unwavering.
This is going better than I expected.
"I will," Kealix replied, the small smile still lingering on his face.
Satisfied, the group began to move. Joshua stepped toward the door, torch in hand. Kealix's gaze followed him—and something strange caught his eye.
What? Is his color… getting brighter?
Kealix blinked. He hadn't paid it much attention before. Ever since he lost his eye, color had become... different. Fragmented. But now Joshua's deep orange aura had brightened—almost glowing, pulsing like the beat of a drum just beneath his skin. It shimmered around him, subtle but undeniable, like embers drawn to flame.
He squinted, eyes narrowing, as if peering through flesh and soul itself. His pulse skipped. What is that?
"Is something wrong?" Alora's soft voice whispered behind him.
"It's nothing," he replied under his breath, not looking away. But it was something. He just didn't know what.
As the first five groups funneled into the hallway, a sound tore through the air.
"Aaaaarggghhhhhhhh—!"
It wasn't close, but it wasn't far enough either. And it wasn't just a scream. It was a warning. A tearing, agonized sound that cut through the walls like claws on bone.
Everyone froze. Some turned to the rift, hearts thundering wildly in their chests, breaths catching as the terrible sound echoed again.
That sound… It wasn't the same roar they'd heard earlier. No—this wasn't a roar. It was a scream. Agonized. Miserable. It clawed at the air like the desperate cry of a dying beast. Not human, not animal. Something in between. Something profoundly wrong.
Kealix's skin prickled. There was more than one creature in that rift. Prey and predator, locked in a violent struggle neither wanted to lose.
Let's hope they kill each other before they kill us.
Kealix glanced around, but no one else seemed to catch it. The others moved quicker now, driven by raw, unfiltered fear. The last group slipped into the hallway—and in that instant, the rift behind them pulsed.
Brighter. Stronger.
It was growing.
The demons—no, things—inside weren't going to stay contained. Kealix could feel it deep in his bones, the pressure behind his lost eye throbbed in warning.
A battle was brewing. Life or death.
And if it spilled out of that rift…
The victor would be clear.
They wouldn't stand a chance.
Let's hope it doesn't come to that.
Kealix looked back one last time—not at the rift itself, but at the strange colors swirling around it. Something was off. Even as chaos and fear overwhelmed him, that unsettling sensation lingered beneath everything, like a shadow just out of focus.
Beside the rift, people were fleeing their homes, running desperately to put as much distance as possible between themselves and that eerie, glowing wound in the world. The rift wasn't just terrifying to them—it had sent ripples of undeniable fear through everyone nearby.
He looked further, eyes narrowing against the dim light, and saw the barrier's edge nearly twenty kilometers away. If the rift marked the center, then the barrier stretched at least forty kilometers across—vast, suffocating, and impenetrable.
Great... a starless day with no light, trapped beneath a strange barrier that didn't belong here.
Wait... why can I see where the edge of this barrier is? Kealix whispered under his breath, the cold air biting at his skin.
No time to think about that.
We have to hurry—before whatever is inside breaks free from the rift.
Kealix clenched his jaw, swallowing the lump in his throat, and followed the flickering light of Joshua's torch into the suffocating dark. Every step forward felt heavier, but there was no turning back now. The fight for survival had already started.