The previous day's events weigh heavily on my mind as I make my way to my first class. Try as I might, I can't stop thinking about the strange episode I experienced - the vivid dream, the haunting voice, the agonising sound that had sent me reeling. What is happening to me? As I enter the unfamiliar classroom, I am distracted, constantly drifting back to everything. I barely register the teacher's arrival, my gaze fixed on the desk's surface as I try to make sense of history. The teacher, a middle-aged man with a perpetually anxious expression, clears his throat and begins to speak. But his voice is shaky, and I can't help but notice how his eyes dart around the room as if expecting something to jump out at him. I snort bitterly. Zane's violent outburst against a teacher has left an impact, and the poor man seems too afraid even to begin the lesson. "Um, class," the teacher stammers, his fingers shaking nervously. "Today, we'll be discussing... the relationship between th

I stood in the dimly lit room and watched the exchange between Ande and Everett unfold through the CCTV screens. My jaw was clenched tight, the muscles in my neck taut with tension.Ande was relentless, his questions probing and his demands unwavering. Everett, on the other hand, looked weak (something I never once considered the precocious girl), her injured arm cradled protectively against her chest.As I watched the exchange between Ande and Everett unfold on the monitor, a simmering rage began to boil within me. How dare that insolent boy pry into matters that are beyond his understanding!The secrets of the Other Side are not his to uncover.Just then, the new teacher - Mr Blackwood - enters the room. He fixed me with a piercing gaze, a sardonic smile on his lips."Trying to keep your little pawns in line, I see," the teacher said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Though it seems young Ande is proving to be quite the troublesome piece."I clench my jaw, my grip tightening

I quietly close the door, nodding to the students waiting outside before making my way down the dimly lit hallway. My mind is still reeling from the conversation I just had with Everett. I can't believe she was so forthcoming with the answers I needed. But it's all so….. convenient. Everything about this situation makes me feel... suspicious. Something doesn't feel right.As I approach my room, I see Chris leaning against the door, waiting for me with a laid-back expression on his face. He straightens when he sees me, shoving his hands in his pockets casually.''So…, How did it go?" he asks, his tone passive.Walking past him, I grimace, unlocking the door and stepping inside. "It was... something," I murmur, collapsing onto my bed. Chris follows me in, sitting in the chair by my desk."Are you sure going to see her again is a good idea?" he asks, his voice laced with uncertainty. I don't even know how he knew where I was going.I shrug, pinning him with a hard stare. "It doesn'

The world around me warps and distorts, the training room melting away as I'm plunged into a vivid hallucination. Suddenly, I find myself on a sprawling battlefield, the air thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder and the cries of wounded soldiers.Before me stands a Destitute, his features blurred and indistinct. But there's something familiar about him, something that tugs at the back of my mind. I don't hesitate, my training kicking in as I charge forward, my fists clenched and ready to strike.The Destitute raises his hand, his eyes wild with fear. "Ande, it's me!" he shouts, his voice desperate. Ande? My name echoes in my mind, but in this haze of battle, I can't place its significance. All I know is that I've been trained to destroy the Destitutes, to eliminate them at all costs.I tackle the Destitute to the ground, my blows raining down with a primal fury. I feel his bones crack beneath my knuckles, his cries of pain fueling my onslaught. This is what I was made for, what

As the game is about to begin, I glance around the room, searching for a familiar face. But Chris isn't here.I scan the crowd again, searching for any sign of the other boy. But he's nowhere to be seen, and a pang of guilt twists in my gut. I pull a nearby student aside, and my grip was tight on their arm."Where's Chris?" I demand, my voice low and menacing.The student's eyes widen, and they stammer, "H-he's still in the hospital. He couldn't play today."I feel a surge of relief and regret. Relief that Chris is safe, for now, but regret that I was the one who put him there in the first place. Without him here, I don't know how much he has in points, and I can't risk him being eliminated. I can't just let that happen.Steeling my resolve, I approach the instructor, the chip still hidden under my tongue. "I want to use some of my points to help Chris pass this round without being eliminated."The instructor raises an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flickering across his face. "Are you