I woke up to the annoying sound of my alarm. "Ughh."
The alarm I set was a loop of my favorite line from the song Demons Hide. It blared: "Some of you may be afraid. That is natural. But fear is only a shadow cast by the unknown. Soon, you will learn. You will grow. And you will surpass even our own expectations." Over and over again.
After months of this same line tearing through my sleep, I had come to loathe it.
I swiped my hand across the alarm screen and groggily sat up. I had pushed my wake-up time as far back as possible—just thirty minutes to get everything done before heading out. That was way more than enough time.
I went through my morning routine: shower, brushing, dressing. By the time I made it downstairs, my mom was sitting on the couch in the hallway, eyes glued to the rollable screen displaying the news. A look of shock was frozen on her face.
"Morning, Ma," I said, heading to the kitchen to grab my meal.
"Good morning, dear," she replied, still transfixed by the screen.
As I sat down to eat, my eyes flicked to the TV. The broadcast showed images of smoking ruins, crumbling buildings, and people wailing in the streets.
"What's the headline, Ma?" I asked.
"Oh, the news? It's terrible. A city was wiped out yesterday. Reports say it was an old blood feud between two monster clans—Barpoi Clan and The Yoners. Apparently, the Yoners ambushed them during a grand event. One of the Barpoi Elders was celebrating the naming ceremony of their grandchild when it happened."
I sighed, tapping my fork against the plate. "The world keeps getting more twisted."
Barpoi Clan was one of my favorites. They always pulled off the craziest stunts in Clash of Clans—not the game, but the real-life battleground where clans waged war to prove their dominance. It wasn't just sport; it shaped political power, economy, and legacy. The strongest clan earned the title of Best Clan of the Decade, a position that guaranteed influence over the world's shifting tides.
Before I could think too much about it—
Knock! Knock!
"Areim is already here, and you haven't even put on your uniform yet!" my mom complained, turning to look me in the eye.
Areim was a good friend of mine. His house wasn't far, and since mine was along the way to school, we usually went together, picking up our other friend, Trionk, on the way.
I bolted upstairs, threw on my uniform, and rushed back down.
"Let's go, Areim! Bye Ma!" I dashed out the door before my mom could say another word.
Areim followed at a steady pace. "Why are you even rushing? You know we'll just get stuck waiting for Trionk."
"We're always late," I shrugged. "I just hope they don't write our names down again today."
"Yeah, no cap, I really don't want to do manual labor today." Areim sighed.
"So let's hurry the f up."
We reached Trionk's place. His mother's shop sat right in front of their house, packed with fresh produce and other goods. The market was in full swing—vendors calling out, haggling voices overlapping, the rich scent of spices and baked goods mixing in the air.
"Oh, my children have arrived!" Trionk's mom greeted us with a warm smile. Then, her voice shot up like a war horn. "BUUBAA!!"
"Yes, Ma!?" Trionk's groggy voice echoed from inside.
"You lazy good-for-nothing! Your friends are waiting for you! What do you even do in there? You don't work, you don't help, you just sleep, sleep, and sleep! Your sister does everything in the house but still goes to school before you! What kind of son did I even raise!?"
"Ma… Ma… I'm here," Trionk sighed, stepping out with the look of a defeated man.
Areim and I barely held in our laughter.
His mom shook her head, then handed each of us a lunchbox. With a swirl of her hand, a soft orange glow enveloped them. It was her ability—an enhancement technique that improved the taste, texture, longevity, and nutritional value of food. It was a rare and coveted gift.
We took the meals eagerly, grinning like little kids.
"Grow big and strong for me, okay, my boys?" she smiled.
"Yes, Ma," we replied in unison.
We raced out into the streets. Since today was a Wednesday—market day—the roads were packed with vendors, carts, and people moving in every direction.
I checked the time. 7:15.
"We are so dead," I muttered.
"Then let's take the shortcut," Trionk smirked. He was the tallest of us, and his long legs made him a natural at running.
"You sure?" I grinned back devilishly, already knowing the answer.
"Doesn't look like we have a choice. Ha!" Areim laughed.
"Well, off we go!" Trionk pumped a fist.
We made a sharp left turn, heading for an alley blocked by a tall wall. Without hesitation, we kicked off the side, running up before grabbing the ledge and vaulting over into Big Jay's compound.
His dogs were already barking and charging toward us. We didn't slow down. The trick was to not hesitate. We reached the far wall, leaped, and pulled ourselves over before the dogs even got close.
From there, it was all rooftops.
We moved in sync, our bodies flowing through each jump, roll, and grab. I vaulted over a clothesline, using it to swing onto a higher platform. Trionk landed hard on a wooden beam, using his height to propel himself forward. Areim, the fastest, effortlessly transitioned between ledges and gaps. The city blurred beneath us as we took the straightest path toward school, dashing across the skyline like specters.
An hour-long walk through the streets turned into a fifteen-minute sprint.
The school bell rang.
7:30 sharp.
We landed in the courtyard just as the last few students shuffled into assembly.
"Just… made it…" I panted.
"No manual labor today," Areim grinned.
Trionk smirked, fixing his uniform. "Another day saved by the shortcut."
We fist-bumped before slipping into line, hearts still pounding from the rush.